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Messages - Lydia Blackwell

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App - Lydia - Castle

Application for Hogwarts School


Name: Lydia Dionne Blackwell

Birthday: September 8, 1954

Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts


Magical Strength (pick one):
Conjuring & Summoning

Magical Weakness (pick one):

Year (pick two):
First (please!), Second

Lydia came into the world screaming as loud as her little lungs would let her. The only child of James and Mary Blackwell, the girl would grow up with a silver spoon in her mouth. She never had to want for anything, and the things she did want only required she ask once. Life was easy for the only child; her father was Chief Operations Officer of the Americas for the Blackwell's family company. His brother Alec was CEO and the face of the company.

In early summer 1966, James received a message from his brother’s wife explaining that Alec had passed away suddenly in his sleep. Who did Alec appoint as his successor? James, of course. He and Mary packed their family's belongings and moved to London, where the new phase of their lives would begin.

Lydia, who always got what she wanted, didn’t get what she wanted this time; she wanted to stay in Boston with her friends and go to Ilvermorny. However, she was now located in London and Hogwarts had sent her a letter.

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

House Request: Gryffindor (please!)


Lydia loves her long brown hair, and swears that she will never wear it short. Even at eleven, she uses a small amount of makeup to make sure her face looks smooth at all times. She always has a light amount of mascara on, and typically goes for lip gloss instead of lip stick. Every hair on her head is always in its rightful place, and she always carries beauty products with her wherever she goes.

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."

Lydia Blackwell seemed to have fallen into a routine of sorts, and that routine often found her in the gardens after classes. Ever the studious first year, she had a particular tree that she loved to sit under and read her books or notes, or whatever she may need to study that particular afternoon. She wanted to impress her parents with her grades, and insisted on studying as much as possible.

She knew that some of the lessons went way above her head, but she would continue to study so she could do the best she possibly could. She hoped that the clueless feeling she sometimes had in class was a common feeling amongst the other firsties at Hogwarts, though she didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask. All she knew is that she was trying her hardest.

Just as she turned the page in her herbology text book, Lydia’s train of thought was interrupted by a yelling boy. She watched for a moment as he hollered about a rat. She shuddered, then quickly picked up her belongings to stand up from the ground. If there was a rat loose, she definitely didn’t want to be low to the ground if it happened to find its way to her.

Why did anyone like rodents anyways? She had a pygmy puff, which was a lot better than a rat. At least Winston was pretty. Rats were just… gross.

After standing and straightening her robes out, Lydia watched as the boy bent down and looked in one of the many flowerbeds in the garden for his pet. Then he sneezed so intensely that she swore she saw some dust come up from the red flowers. The brunette continued watching the much older boy and her mouth fell open as he wiped his nose on his robes.

Lydia was astounded, and not in a good way; she treated her own robes with utmost respect. It was the same with her wand, and her books, and literally anything she had gotten related to being a witch. She was proud of her things.

“You really shouldn’t treat your robes like that,” Lydia said, crossing her arms over her chest. “And your rat best stay away from me.”


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