Primrose Amelia Dwyre

[P. Amelia Dwyre]

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name: Primrose Amelia Dwyre
Gender: Female
Age: Nine years

Education: 
Constanza Burbage’s School for Girls, 1967 - Present

Community Applying To:
Hogsmeade

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
No

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (example St Mungo's, Children's Home, the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?
Rose Cottage

Special Phrase: Tibble’s Beard of Power

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
Prim pursed her lips.

She did not want to go to daycare. Daycare was for babies and Primrose Amelia Dwyre was anything but a baby. At least, in her opinion. From where Prim stood it seemed a reasonable request to her mother that she simply be allowed to stay home alone after school. She was nine years wise, nearly ten, and surely that was enough to signify she was perfectly old enough to look after herself. Her mother however, steadfastly refused.

It was quite unfair.

Tucking a stray piece of mousy brown hair behind her ear, Prim rose turned from her mother who was heavily engaged in conversation with some woman behind the desk. Turning in a circle she looked around, taking in the whitewashed walls, the landscape painting and the shelves filled with neatly stacked books. Prim didn’t like it. The whole place was too goody goody. Too many roses and not enough dirt. Too many watchful eyes.

Prim glanced behind her shoulder. The grown ups were still busy talking. She kicked the bookcase softly for good measure.

Dumbos.

Of course, it was her fault she was in this mess. Prim knew that well enough. The child had sensed upon appointment of her last nanny that it would be the final time her mother filled the position. Of course her mother, upon every appointment, threatened to send her to day care if the position was vacated due to her naughtiness. But the employment of Madame Schmidt had been different. When Aingeal Dwyre had turned to her daughter and warned her about creating mischief, she had done so in a quiet, cool manner. Quite different  from her usual yelling and scolding. Prim had thought then that this time she might actually mean what she said.

Primrose tested the waters anyway. After three weeks of name calling, insolence, tantrums and tears, a particularly horrible brew of Itching Potion saw Madame Schmidt exiting the Dwyre home, scratching madly and howling against the evilness of small children.

Needless to say, she was Prim’s last nanny.

The chatter of the adults had finished. Prim did not need to hear the call of her name to know it was time to go. Looking up, the little girl stepped forward to stand next to her mother, for the first time catching sight of the woman that would be her carer. Brown hair. Soft face. She would be easy prey.

“Le temps d’aller, Mama?”



ROLEPLAY
Reply as your character to the following:

It was impossible for Dianne to stay out of trouble. It wasn't that she was looking for trouble, it's just that trouble always managed to find her. Today she wished she could find something equally familiar but more comforting.

The five-year old girl hugged her puffskein closer to her and brushed her face in its soft fur for comfort. She had named him herself and he was always her special pet. No she was certain she had never gone down this side street before. Her anxiety increased every second as darkness fell as she walked down the road. A loud noise came to her left and she buried her face in her pet's fur completely. The scared girl bolted the opposite way slamming the both of them into the wall of the nearest building. Tottering back a few steps she found a door a few feet to her right and ran to open it. What light there was inside spilled out into the darkness and she spilled into the room.

Once in, she was caught between the impulse to curl her cloak up more tightly around her and loosen her grip on it. She wasn't alone anymore but she was now among strangers instead, which was nearly as terrifying. Her puffskein had recovered from the shock of the wall and now was purring contentedly as the girl hugged it, causing a mildly calming effect on the girl. Gathering her courage, she marched up to the nearest person, pulled on the nearest clothing hem and blurted out in a loud voice:

"I'm lost and it's dark and I wanted to know where I am but I'm not scared but I am worried that Sambundeakin is scared because he's little and needs something to eat and wants to go home."

She paused to draw a breath in her nearly never-ending sentence, "He misses my and his mommy."

To explain the scared girl held up the custard-colored puffskein. Sambundeakin the puffskein, however simply purred as if nothing on earth was wrong in the world.

Roleplay Response:
Primrose Dwyre was not a puppy.

She did not have leash. There was no collar around her neck. Her intelligence was most definitely superior to that of a dog. Yet still, her mother insisted on dragging her around the shops like some prized Labrador.

At least she had been promised ice cream.

Primrose mused on the flavour she would get as she walked around the store, absent mindedly rifling through the odd book or two. Lavender was her favourite, and it went well with vanilla. But she got that al the time so she wondered if maybe, today, she should try something different. Her mother was always going on about trying new things. Learn Spanish she would say, or, make new friends. Eat vegetables. At the thought, little Prim’s nose wrinkled.

She would most definitely stick to lavender.

It was upon picking up a copy of Furbles Most Fascinating Finds that Prim felt a tug at her sleeve. Turning around, brown eyes wide, she came to face a small girl holding what looked to be a ball of fluff. She talked.

"I'm lost and it's dark and I wanted to know where I am but I'm not scared but I am worried that Sambundeakin is scared because he's little and needs something to eat and wants to go home."

Now, Prim was not always an unkind child. She, like any other girl, had her moments of affection and could even be quite sweet at times. But today she was already a little annoyed at having to follow her mother around the shops. Being interrupted from her pointless browsing from some crying tot was only asking for trouble. Poor little Dianne would have no luck on this occasion.

“Naw, poor wibble baby lost it’s Mum-mum?” Prim cooed in a mean, mock baby voice. Her eyes narrowed and the corners of her mouth rose in spiteful glee.

“Why, has she abandoned you like a little urchin then?”

[Professor Tibble]

Accepted.