|Full name||Lilith Carlisle, nee Ricardus|
|Born||18 September 1925|
|Birthplace||Ricardus Hall, Freethorpe, Norfolk, UK|
|Blood Status||Pureblood, The Ricardus Family|
|Education||Beauxbatons Academy, Charlemagne (1936-1939)|
Hogwarts School, Slytherin (1939-1943)
|Parents||Jarvis Ricardus, Ainia Ricardus|
|Siblings||Medea Ricardus (b. 1927), Evelyn Ricardus (b. 1929), Apollonia Ricardus (b. 1934)|
|Other Family Members||The Ricardus Family|
Being the first of five girls was only a real job if you let it get out of hand, and Jarvis and Ainia Ricardus had soon discovered that their oldest daughter was a natural when it came to being responsible. Perhaps it was because of the way that she had been brought up, the family into which she had been born. Perhaps it was because her father ruled them with an iron hand and in turn was ruled by a hand made of the clearest, coldest steel. It was no joke being a Ricardus - it was hardly the place to go for warmth and love, but it was family, and it was family of the purest, of the most high class.
They were priviledged and she knew it.
Some day would she make a good wife, but she was strong willed, and that was perhaps her greatest weakness.
"I said don't."
There was a sharpness to her voice, an edge in her words, that made Medea look at her, retracting her hand from their infant sister. The baby had been left in Lilith's care for a moment while mother attended to different business. The baby was sleeping, and she was going to stay that way, despite Medea's curiosity. The Ricardi didn't like crybabies. And Father was in the room next-door. He didn't need another reminder that his fifth child had been a girl as well.
She knew what he wanted. She knew a lot of things. Being first-born meant nothing when you were a girl, except perhaps that she was expected to be more responsible than Medea, more responsible that Evelyn and definitely more so than Apollonia. Rosalie could hardly be blamed, only days old, yet still the source to a great deal of anger.
It was best keeping as quiet as possible.
Smart girls learnt quickly that it was best not to look Father, or uncle Loxias, or Grandfather directly in the eyes unless you were told so. In some ways she looked to them with awe, in others with fear, for they were stern men, each and every of them. All of the children were taught proper Etiquette from very early on, and perhaps that was why she had been sent to Beauxbatons - the French were very proper in their ways and Hogwarts could be wild at times, or so had she heard. Father said Beauxbatons was a good school for girls. Sometimes she wondered what he meant by that, but she rarely opposed him. Uncle Loxias didn't seem too impressed, but then again, he never did, and Lilith preferred to stay as far away from him as possible. It was a long time since now, that she'd understood that there was a lot of cold blood between Jarvis Ricardus and his brothers.
It rubbed off to them, onto his children.
Somehow it was their fault for being girls. Yet sometimes she spotted a soft spot in her Father. She almost dared to love him then.
Perhaps it was funny, that at Ricardus Hall, while everybody lived together - uncle Loxias had eight sons and Lilith had four sisters - that they somehow seemed so distrant. Ironic, perhaps, that so many of them enjoyed their privacy while they chose always to be together. She liked it though, especially living with her cousins. Many times had she followed Salazar around, sometimes hiding from him, sometimes being completely obvious in her intentions. Then there was Emeric, whom she found fascinating, and Antioch, Herpo and Merwyn, all of them close in age with herself. Boys made good conversation.
Medea finally stumbled off, realizing that her big sister held no interest in hanging out with her. Lilith got up then, carefully making her way over to the cradle, clear blue eyes staring down at the wrinkled creature inside.
Babies were ugly. Lilith really couldn't see how some people found them cute.
She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined, hard, her little sister as a little brother. But when she opened them again nothing was changed.
She wondered if life would have been different.
Then she sat back down and continued knitting.