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Maud Kennedy

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Maud Kennedy:
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Application for Hogwarts School

→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.

Name: Maud Kennedy

Birthday: September 3, 1959

Hometown: Keswick, Cumbria, England

Bloodline: Pureblood

Magical Strength (pick one): Charms

Magical Weakness (pick one): Conjuring & Summoning

Year (pick two): 3, 4

Biography:
"To understand is to perceive patterns." — Isaiah Berlin
She stood on tiptoe at the counter, arranging the teacups in perfect symmetry—two inches apart, handles all aligned at the same precise angle. The tin of loose-leaf tea, embossed with curling silver script, sat in its rightful spot next to the sugar bowl.

Her mother sat at the table, engrossed in correspondence, the faint scratch of her quill and the bitter tang of tobacco smoke her backdrop. Maud scooped the tea leaves with steady hands, her heart quieting as she focused.

One teaspoon for each cup, no more, no less.

The kettle erupted in a sharp, singing whistle. Maud quickly seized the pot, her small fingers clutching the handle with serious determination. Steam billowed, fragrant with bergamot, as she poured the water in careful arcs.

When the cups were ready—exactly five minutes—Maud carried them to the table. Her mother didn't glance up until the cup was set before her.

"Thank you, Maud," her mother said, her voice even, but her eyes quickly returned to her letter even as she took the cup in her hand. Maud watched her take the first sip, her shoulders relaxing fractionally.

The tea was right.

Everything was right.

"What we know is a drop; what we do not know is an ocean" — Isaac Newton
The morning dew clung to the hydrangeas outside the window, their heavy blossoms bowing under the weight of it. Maud sat stiffly at the breakfast table, her fingers curled around the edge of her chair. The letter lay in front of her, its pristine parchment stark against the polished mahogany.

Her mother had insisted on a proper breakfast to mark the occasion, though Maud could not bring herself to even sip her tea. It was over-steeped—too bitter—and it just wouldn't do.

The letter's edges were perfectly straight, unmarred by creases or smudges. Maud traced her name with her eyes for the hundredth time: Miss Maud Kennedy. Each curve of the ink felt deliberate, significant. Her heart raced with equal parts excitement and dread.

"Go on, open it," her father prompted, his voice warm yet commanding as he sat back, his long black pipe hanging precariously out the corner of his mouth. Bea clapped her hands in delight, while Julian leaned against the doorway, watching with an infuriating smile.

Maud slipped her finger under the wax seal, feeling its resistance before giving way. The parchment unfolded like a map to a world she had only imagined. Hogwarts.

Later, alone in her room, she sat cross-legged on the floor with her trunk half-packed. Her robes were folded with precision, the creases perfectly aligned. She stared at the empty space left for her books, her mind churning with lists: what to bring, what to study.

What to become.

"I am, I am, I am" — Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
The drawing room was ablaze with golden light, the chandelier throwing fractured rainbows across the vaulted ceiling. Guests milled about, glasses of elf-made wine glinting in their hands, their laughter swelling and receding like waves. Maud sat perched on the edge of a silk-covered armchair, her school robes exchanged for a demure emerald gown her mother had chosen.

She kept her posture composed, her back straight and hands folded neatly in her lap, though her heart beat against her ribs like a restless bird. Her grades, perfect in every category, had been handed over to her father hours ago. The parchment was likely already buried beneath a stack of correspondence, forgotten.

But then she heard it. Her father's voice from across the room: "Yes, yes, she is bright." Heads turned toward her, and she sat up straighter, the picture of poise, though her heart raced beneath its surface. His words, brief as they were, swelled in her chest, and a smile — soft and genuine — lifted her lips.

"But Julian," her father continued, his tone shifting into something warmer, fuller. The smile faltered, her chest tightening as he crossed the room to where her older brother stood, surrounded by adults whose laughter now seemed too loud. "Julian has secured an internship at the Ministry. An impressive feat at such a young age."

Her father's hand landed on Julian's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze as he pulled him closer.

Maud's hands curled into the fabric of her gown, the material bunching under her fingertips. But even that was too much, and she quickly flattened the material back down. Her gaze dropped to the crystalline decanter on the drinks table, its refracted edges glittering too brightly. She focused on counting the facets: one, two three four—

"You look bored."

The voice was bright and suddenly right next to her. Maud flinched, her head snapping toward the sound. Bea, her younger sister, stood beside her, curls in wild disarray and her cheeks flushed red. "Do I?" was all she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bea nodded, her expression solemn and certain. "Come with me. It's dull out here."

Before Maud could protest, Bea slipped her smaller hand into hers and tugged. Maud's fingers tensed at the contact, her instinct to pull away warring with the strange comfort of Bea's warmth. The precise folds of her gown wrinkled beneath her grip, but she let it happen.

Maud let herself be led, her steps slow and hesitant at first, her mind still tangled in the moment before. But as Bea’s chatter filled the space between them and the noise of the drawing room faded behind her, she felt the tightness in her chest begin to loosen. “Where are we going?” Maud finally asked, her voice softer, steadier.

“Anywhere but here.” 


→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request: Ravenclaw

Personality:
Maud is driven and meticulous. She's not shy—just quiet. Finds comfort in structured logic and facts. Her perfectionism drives her to excel, but it also makes her hyper-aware of her flaws and shortcomings. May come across as terse or judgmental but she is just extremely blunt and doesn't understand why that would be a problem.

Appearance:
At roughly 5'2", Maud is small with a slight frame that gives her an air of delicacy. Her thick, wavy brown hair often falls in neat cascades around her shoulders, though she keeps it tightly braided during school hours to maintain a sense of order. Her pale complexion is dotted with light freckles across her nose and cheeks. Maud's most striking feature is her piercing blue eyes. She is always impeccably dressed. Her school robes are ironed, her tie perfectly knotted. 

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character. Remember, you can only roleplay your own character's actions, not Evangeline's or Hugh's.

Option 2:

That rat of his was in for it now.

The gray little rascal had disappeared from his clutches at breakfast. Again.

Before Hugh even knew what was happening, Merlin had shot across the floor, somehow managing to avoid all the feet walking across the hall and had escaped through the open doors.

Which meant that Hugh was now stomping through rows of flowers and other various flora, searching for the small creature. It was like the rat knew Hugh was allergic to most flowers. Merlin always chose to run to the gardens whenever he got away from Hugh. It was as if the rat did not want to have him for an owner.

Hugh had named his pet Merlin because he had hoped the powerful name would give the rat more incentive to be more than a rat. Not that he expected Merlin to change into a wizard or anything, but rats were just so...useless, for the most part. With a name like Merlin, Hugh thought it might give the rat purpose.

The only purpose Merlin seemed to have was getting away from Hugh as often as possible.

As the fifth year trudged into the second row of flowers, not taking much care to avoid trampling the first row, he felt the first sneeze building up pressure in his nose and behind his eyes.

"You blasted rat! Where are you?"

He pulled apart a section of bright red flowers; he didn't know what they were called because he despised flowers, and ducked his head low to peer into the depths of the flowerbed. It was moving closer in proximity to the flowers that finally did it. Hugh took in three great breaths and then let out an almighty sneeze. It was strong enough to disturb some of the dirt on the ground before him.

Groaning, he stood up again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. It was as he was turning his head, his nose running up and down his arm, that movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Normally one who preferred to put his best face forward, Hugh was a bit embarrassed to be caught wiping his runny nose on his robes.

Nevertheless, Hugh put on his best haughty voice. albeit a bit thickly with his plugged nose and said, "Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."

Roleplay Response:
Maud sat on the weathered stone bench, her lap weighed down by her copy of Advanced Magical Theory: Hexes, Curses, and Counter-Charms, the sun high and solitude comforting. She relaxed into the rhythm of her quill as it scratched across parchment, each line precise, the ink applied in an even, perfect flow. The air was heavy with the heady perfume of blooming flowers, their sweetness weaving through the faint tang of ink.

Until the quiet was broken by a voice, loud and grating.

”You blasted rat! Where are you?”

Maud’s quill froze mid-stroke, her focus shattered. She exhaled sharply through her nose and turned her head toward the source. Through the shifting dappled sunlight, she spotted Hugh, arse up in the flowerbeds, ripping out stems and roots with all the delicacy of a rampaging troll.

Her lips pressed into a firm, disapproving line. Dirt sprayed in every direction as he clawed at the flowers. It was chaos—ugly and repugnant, and it grated against every one of her senses.

Then came the sneeze. Loud and violent, it erupted with the force of a thunderclap, shattering the thin thread of calm that had remained in the garden. Maud winced, her shoulders jerking upward as though the sound physically jolted her. Her grimace depended as Hugh, entierly unabashed, wiped his nose on his sleeve, leaving a glistening streak behind.

Disgusted, her gaze flicked back to her parchment—and the inkblot. A dark, jagged stain spread across the page, its edges bleeding outward, consuming the once-pristine surface. Her chest tightened at the sight. A faint tremor ran through her fingers as she clenched the edge of the book tightly in a desperate attempt to ground herself against the rising tide of frustration.

The trampled flowers. The ruined notes. Hugh’s presence. Everything was too loud, too messy, too wrong.

Another loud sneeze tore through the air, louder than the last.

Maud’s movements were stiff, almost mechanical, as she capped her ink and slid her quill into its proper slot in her bag. She tucked the stained parchment and her book into her bag. A slow, controlled breath studied her as she rose to her feet, her posture impeccable—shoulder's back, spine straight.

”Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare,”

Her gaze, cold and unyielding, locked onto him. “Help me? She repeated, each word clipped and deliberate. One dark brow arched, her eyes cutting briefly to the ruined flowerbeds before returning to his snot-filled face. “Perhaps start helping yourself to a single shred of decorum, if you can manage.” Her tone was clipped, polished, her vowels sharp.

She stepped forward, her shoes crunching lightly against the gravel path but never touching the soil. “Though I imagine your rat has the better sense of the two of you.”


→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have  on the site (current and previous): Esther Harlow, Angel Malvaux, et al.

How did you find us?: Google probably

Florence Olivewood:
Dear Miss Kennedy,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Term begins on 1 January. Currently, students have gathered at Camp Loki, 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.

Yours sincerely,

Deputy Headmistress

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