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Author Topic: Shaena O'Leary  (Read 575 times)

Shae OLeary

    (01/12/2011 at 16:00)
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Shaena O'Leary

Secret Phrase:
Correct! -ECV

Former Character's Name (if you had one):

House Request:

Sort me as you please!

Third or fourth year

Pureblood father, halfblood mother.

Magical Strength (pick one: Divination, Transfiguration, Charms, Conjuring/Summoning):

Magical Weakness (pick one: Divination, Transfiguration, Charms, Conjuring/Summoning):


They say that the most impactful experiences leave the strongest memories. This was definitely true for Shae O'Leary when she discovered her family history.

Throughout the easy, carefree years of early youth, Shae and her brother Sean were inseparable. Born less than ten months after her brother, Shae became closer to Sean than she was to her younger brother Shannon. Most people thought Shae and Sean were twins when they saw the same tangled strawberry blond hair and curious hazel-green eyes.

For years, Shae and Sean enjoyed causing havoc in their old Colorado home. It wasn't until the move that they made their biggest discovery.

Vermont was much different than Colorado, and Shae loved exploring the area. The new house was located in a small town, a stark contrast in relation to the suburban city she was familiar with. Mostly, she explored outside, often playing in the nearby woods.

Three weeks after the move, when her parents Brady and Tara were away (for some sort of big promotion dinner celebration), Shae and Sean realized they had yet to explore the attic. In their old house, the attic had been off-limits, but here, there were boxes stored above the narrow staircase that had yet to be unpacked, so the door remained unlocked. It was time to explore.

The attic shone with moonlight that crept through the large, round window. Shae and her brother stepped carefully across the floorboards, trying not to wake Shannon, who would definitely tell on them. It wasn't very late, but Shannon was only five so he went to sleep early while the nine-year-olds could fight the slumber for longer.

"How do we get through all these boxes before Mom and Dad get home?" Sean whispered, looking around with wide eyes. There were six of them, and some were even stacked on top of each other.

"We just have to hurry," responded Shae impatiently, peeling the tape off the nearest box and prying open the flaps. "This one's just full of clothes. Why aren't you opening any? Help me lift this box down, it's heavy."

Shae grunted as they put the heavy box on the dusty floor. "Open that other one while I get this one," she instructed, then wrinkled her nose and drew back. "Books. Here." She hated books, but her brother adored reading. She'd let him have his fun.

She found nothing interesting in the other boxes. She'd discovered an old lamp, some musty quilts, and the Christmas decorations, all while listening to Sean prattle about his finds. It had all faded into the background until Sean went quiet, and his silence was louder than any of his chatter.

"What?" she prompted, frustrated with her mundane finds. She wasn't normally so irritable, but she'd been waiting to find out what was in the attic so long, and she was disappointed that there was nothing to be found. Maybe their parents really did keep the door locked "for safety reasons" instead of secrets, like they said.

"I…" Sean looked up from the book he was holding and looked Shae in the eyes. "I found something."

Suddenly, the light outside got brighter.

"Headlights! They're home!" exclaimed Sean. He looked down wistfully at the book in his hands.

Though Shae knew they'd be in big trouble if the book was discovered missing, she didn't want to miss out on the opportunity to see what it was. "Take that with us. But help me fix the boxes first!"

It was days later before Shae and Sean got to look at the book. Her first impression was that it was old and big. The cover was brown and the pages were yellow and it even smelled old. It creaked when they opened it. From cover to cover it was as wide as her hand and it was as big as a photo album.

The first two pages had names and dates written all across them, the wrong way, with lines connecting them. "What is it?" Shae asked.

"That's a family tree," said Sean after turning to the third page. "Look, there's Dad." It read Brady O'Leary, 1935 –      . "When he dies, the year goes in that blank spot." Shae nodded. Sean saw that she was following and kept talking. "These lines go all the way back to here…" He pointed to the first name on the first page. "Conor O'Leary, 1656 – 1692. I wonder how he died; he was only… only thirty-six."

Her family history! Shae felt excitement boiling in her gut. "Can I see?" she squealed, hardly waiting for a response before she took the book into her hands. She carefully turned the delicate pages, feeling how brittle they were under her fingertips. These pages were three hundred years old!

There was writing on the next few pages but Shae couldn't read it. It looked like a different language. "Sean, what is it?"

Sean squinted at the page. "I think it's Irish 'cause Mom and Dad said that's what we are and they're both in here."

The spent the next couple hours flipping through the book, and they found more than just words. There were pictures, wonderful sketches of fantastical creatures. Sometimes writing on the pages looked like recipes her mom used, but there were pictures of flowers and plants. On other pages there were strange artifacts.

Shae was immersed until her brother tugged at her sleeve. He wasn't looking at the book; he was looking at her and he looked upset. "Shae, I don't think this is a good idea. This looks like a witch book."

Immediately, Shae opened her mouth to protest. But as thoughts flooded her mind, she closed it again. She knew her brother; once he was set on something, he didn't change his mind. Well, she was just as stubborn! She loved the book and she wanted to look at it. If it was a witch book, and if it was her family history, that probably meant she was a witch. That meant her parents were magic too! Why didn't they tell her? She wanted to ask but what if she got in trouble for looking in the attic? If they hadn't told her by now they probably weren't going to tell her.

Her hazel-green eyes met her brother's and she forced herself to sound worried. "You're right. I'll take it back."

She studied the book as often as she could, pushing away from her family as she devoted time to her secret. About a week after she discovered the book, she found out something shocking and special.

"Ugghhh!" she said out loud, safe in her private haven in the woods near her house. The pictures were great but she wanted to be able to read the words. "Why can't you be in English?" she asked the book, poking it. Suddenly the book was in English.

By the time she was eleven, she'd read the whole book. She didn't understand a lot of it, but she had read it. When she got her letter, she braced herself to tell her parents.

She was a witch.



Option II:

“Oh, come now!"

Astrid Bixby’s voice carried down the corridor, the tall blonde girl not far behind. Her interviewee – or victim, depending on perspective – turned a corner and she frowned. They were always so elusive when she needed them. Sure, they would talk as if there was no tomorrow during class, but once she actually needed them to say something, they were nowhere to be found. Gryffindors.

Flustered, Astrid stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared, her parchment hanging limply from her hand. She was a good reporter, really, and she always did her best to make sure that everything she wrote was accurate. She glanced down to the quill, eyeing it with disdain. It wasn’t her fault if her quill misquoted. How was she supposed to know? It made for interesting articles, at least, and if she had misquoted the Head Boy last term as saying he had a love for stuffed animals, then that gave him personality. Astrid sighed.

A pout formed on her lips as she turned away, discouraged. The corridor was mercifully empty, though the doors to The Spellbound – the school newspaper – were ominously closed. Corbridge was a mercifully sweet editor, but Astrid was terrified of disappointing her all the same. She had to come back with quotes.

Her eyes, blue, trailed her surroundings before choosing a new path, and she turned down a new corridor. A figure was ahead, and her eyes lit up, an impossibly rosy smile blossoming across her lips.

“Hey!” Astrid called, her voice light and singsong. She trotted to catch the person, her shoes clicking on the stone floor. “Wait up! It’s for the paper!” Her legs aided her admittedly poor running, and Astrid gasped as she came closer. “What do you think about serving frog legs at lunch? Some say it’s a delicacy, but others think it’s plain gross.”

Sample Roleplay Response:
It had been a dreadfully long day for Shae. She still had one more class, to which she was already late, and her stomach growled. Why hadn't she eaten more for lunch? She couldn't even remember. Her mind was so cluttered with the list of things she still had to do before dinner.

"Hey!" she heard from down the hall. She turned and saw a familiar girl trying to run toward her, and the sound of her shoes echoed in the empty space between them. It was that one girl, the one who was interviewing students. A few of her friends had been misrepresented by her publishing. "Wait up!" that girl continued. "What do you think about serving frog legs at lunch?"

Was that why she hadn't eaten at lunch? Shae thought back. She couldn't remember any frog legs. She felt her nose wrinkle in concentration as she reminisced. It was only an hour or two ago, so why couldn't she remember?

"…it's plain gross," the girl finished.

"Um. Yeah, some people might think that," volunteered Shae. She'd never had frog legs in her life, but at this point, her stomach would have taken anything as long as it could be filled. Food was worth missing her next class for; it was half over anyway. "Look," Shae addressed the reporter girl, rubbing her own stomach with both hands, "what's your name again? Do you know any nearby passages to the kitchens? I don't remember eating at lunch."

« Last Edit: 01/12/2011 at 17:09 by Esme Vartan »

Esme Vartan

    (01/12/2011 at 17:10)
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Miss O'Leary,

Congratulations, your application to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been accepted.

Term begins 01 January. Currently, students have gathered at the Summer Campus. Your admission is joint for both the school and the summer campus, and we encourage you to spend your summer there. Should you choose, you may also visit our Elsewhere board via the Floo Network to visit or purchase school supplies. We look forward to seeing you at the Castle.


Keeper of the Keys