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Archived Applications / Arianna Beatriz Richards
« on: 28/04/2013 at 18:26 »

Application for Hogwarts School

Name: Arianna Beatriz M. Richards

Birthday: 15 August

Hometown: Old Ford, London

Bloodline: Muggleborn

Magical Strength (pick one): Transfiguration

Magical Weakness (pick one): Divination

Year (pick two): fourth or fifth


Even when she was a little girl, Ianne Richards knew that she was not like the other children in her neighborhood. Although they went to the same school and played the same games, Therese and Celine did not blow up balloons with an angry stare, or cook eggs by shouting at them. Being a witch in Muggle London was not easy, but she’s never known a different life, and she looked up to her mother, who was also a witch but rarely ever used magic.

Helena worked as a nurse at the children’s ward of The London Hospital. And she was a brilliant nurse. Even without healing charms, she had a way of soothing patients and nursing them back to health. Ianne’s father, on the other hand, was a Muggle through and through. Robert was knowledgeable of Helena and Ianne’s abilities, and accepted them fully. He worked at a motor factory, although before that he served in the British Army during the First World War, and between his and Helena’s salary, they managed to make ends meet. 

The rules at home were clear – no magic where Muggles can see you. As much as possible, no magic at all. “Relying too much on magic makes you lazy,” her mother would always tell her. As soon as Ianne showed signs of magical ability – shrinking her mother’s clothes and shoes while playing dress-up when she was seven -- her parents had a tutor come and help her control her magic. Catalina was her mother’s friend and someone who worked at the Ministry of Magic. For the next four years, she visited the Richards’ London home during the weekends and taught Ianne how to concentrate her magic and restrain it whenever she felt it pushing out.

During one of their sessions when she was nine, Ianne asked her mentor, “Miss Catalina, wouldn’t it be easier to just live with other people who have magic? Why did mama choose to stay here?” Catalina just smiled and told her before leaving, “Magic isn’t the answer to everything, hija. Your mother has her reasons for doing what she did. If you want to know more, you’ll just have to ask her yourself.” And so Ianne did. And her mother’s answer was always the same: “Here they judge me because of what I can do, not because of what blood I have.”

Ianne would constantly think about those words and make no sense of them, even as she continued with her magic lessons while living the “normal Muggle life.” She attended a public school with most of her neighbors, and while she was not an exceptional or popular student, she got along well with her classmates and managed to keep under the radar from the more terrifying teachers.

A week before her eleventh birthday, Helena took Ianne aside and told her that she will not continue having lessons with Catalina anymore, and instead, she’ll be going to magic remedial lessons with a woman called Madame Lillian. She wasn’t allowed to use magic outside a magic school, her mother explained, but Madame Lillian has obtained special permission from the Ministry to teach those who prefer not sending their children to one.

“But why attend a special class, mama? I can control my magic fine, and we don’t use it here in Muggle London anyway.”

“The older you get, the harder it will be to reign in your magic, love. This is the best way for you to learn.”

So the day she turned eleven, Ianne made her way to wizarding London for the first time. Her mother had her wear a heavy robe that made her itch all over, and reminded her to stay close as they walked through the narrow alleyways. What Ianne knew of the magical world she only got from stories her mother and Miss Catalina told, and was surprised to find that it was much similar to a Muggle marketplace, albeit with more uncomfortable clothes and magic present in every nook and cranny.

First stop, Ollivander’s.

Ianne and her mother were greeted by a man with twinkling eyes, who took her hand measurements and proceeded to hand her a short, deep purple wand. When she swished It about, Ianne gasped as she felt magic flow from her hands to the wand, causing beautiful sparks to fly out from the end. “Perfect!” Mr. Ollivander exclaimed, wrapping her wand in an intricate box and waving quite enthusiastically as they left the shop.

As soon as Madame Lillian opened the door to her home, Ianne warmed up to her instantly. She had a friendly smile and a warm embrace. The woman gave a tut-tut and glanced disapprovingly at her mother when she discovered Ianne did not know any spells at all, but assured the young girl she’ll catch up easily with her peers. After a few incantations and waves of her wand, the Madame wrote a few things on her parchment before sending them home. “Every weekend starting next week, don’t forget!” she said as she gave Ianne a big, wet kiss on the cheek.

And so her magic lessons began.

On her first day, Ianne met other children attending the same class as her. It was also the first time she learned about the blood status her mother so clearly resented.

“So, are you a Half-blood or a Muggleborn?” Georgina asked her immediately after they were introduced to each other.

“A what?”

The blonde gave her a disbelieving look, and swept her hand across the room. “You know? Half-blood, muggle mom, wizard dad, or something of the sort? Or Muggle parents? I don’t think any Pureblood will have classes with us anyway.”

As Ianne continued to learn spells and charms, mixed potions and learned about the history of magic, she also gained a deeper realization of what possibly motivated her mother to return to stay in Muggle London. The young girl found out that her mother was a Muggleborn, and was fired from being a Healer at a wizarding hospital because she spoke back to a high-profile Pureblood wizard who insulted her. Unable to find a job after, Helena decided to go back to her Muggle roots, where she met Robert while he was a patient in the hospital she worked at.

In some way, Ianne understood her mother’s bitterness. Throughout their lessons, Madame Lillian, a Half-blood herself, and her classmates always talked about how equality was a farce and shared stories of mothers and fathers, relatives and friends who suffered prejudice because of their blood. She enjoyed her lessons, but dreaded the tense atmosphere she felt when navigating around the wizarding community.

For two years she continued to live her double life, performing more complex spells while studying her maths and literature. As she neared her third year of magical schooling, Helena brought Ianne to a place she had never been before. The big, imposing building loomed over her, and her mother shuffled her in with a nervous urgency.

“Mama, where are we?” she whispered, clinging to her mother’s arm tightly.

Helena gave arm a light squeeze and smiled lightly. “The Ministry of Magic, Ianne. We need to register our blood status. Don’t worry, this won’t take long.”

Ianne quietly stood in line and spoke her full name softly when she reached the counter. After signing a parchment handed to her, the bald attendant pointed his wand on her chest and spoke an incantation she did not recognize. When she went out of the building, she, along with many others, bore an insignia on her robe that stated, M. Her mother had one too, with the same mark. Helena’s lips were pursed in distaste as they went back, and an uncomfortable dinner followed that night. Nevertheless, Ianne continued her lessons, painfully aware of the condescending stares from those unmarked as she visited Diagon Alley every weekend.

Because of her preoccupation with balancing her Muggle and magic life, Ianne was blissfully unaware of the talks of war that were spreading across the continent. Her parents, on the other hand, were preparing for every eventuality.

“You know I will not leave, Helena. Whatever happens, I will defend my country as I did before,” Robert told his wife one night as they lay in bed. Helena took his hand and leaned on him, responding, “I know, love. And I will stand by you whatever happens. But Ianne…” Robert looked at her with a somber expression. “Cannot stay here. I understand. But are you sure about this?” Helena’s voice broke. “No. But if there is a place where she’ll most probably be safe, it’s Hogwarts.”   

May of 1938 sealed their decision. It was then that Madame Lillian announced that her license was revoked by the Ministry, and she cannot teach her students anymore. Ianne could not understand why her mother cried and her father was near tears when they got home and told him the news. She tried to comfort them, saying, “It’s ok, mama, papa. I don’t mind not having magic classes anymore.” Helena shook her head as she hugged her daughter. “We want you safe, Ianne. And this is the best choice we have.”

They handed her a letter from Hogwarts.

“You’ve been getting one every year,” her mother explained, as Ianne sat dumbfounded with the envelope on her hands, “But we decided then that it was better for you to stay here. But these are dangerous times now, love.”

“But you hated it there! Why are you sending me?” Helena shook her head. “I didn’t hate it, it was a beautiful place. Ianne,” her mother stroked the young girl’s hair, as she was now silently crying while looking at her parents in defeat. “If there was any other way to let you stay here, we would have done so already. But we don’t have the power to keep you safe.”

Ianne shook her head, sobbing louder. “But I want to stay with you.”

This time it was Robert who went on his knees and took his daughter in his arms. His voice was thick with tears as he spoke. “And we want you to stay. But nothing will make us more at ease than knowing you are safe. The wizarding world may have its own problems, but within the confines of your school you will be protected from them. Please, love.”

Ianne cried herself to sleep that night, and was silent over breakfast the next morning. Since it was a weekend, the young girl locked herself up in her room and thought about the matter over and over in her head. She certainly did not feel motivated to study in a magic school, just by everyone’s stories it seemed like a horrible place to be. But it was unthinkable for her to disobey her parents’ wishes, and the thought of their sacrifice for her strengthened her resolve. By evening, she slowly padded to her parents’ room and entered, clutching the much-read letter to her chest.

“I’ll go,” she whispered, “If that’s what you want, I’ll go to Hogwarts.”

And so enrollment papers were sent, school supplies were bought, goodbyes were given, and in three months’ time Ianne was on her way to her new school, and her new life. Her mother held her tight, and told her before she boarded the train, “Be strong, Ianne. I cannot promise things will be alright, but I know you can do this.” Her father brought out his identification tag in the army and wore it around her neck, and Ianne had to hold back tears as she clung to him and whispered, “I love you, papa. I’ll do my best, I promise.”

As she entered the train, Ianne looked back once more towards her parents. She did not know what lay ahead of them, but as she gave them a reassuring smile and wave, she hoped and prayed that they made the right decision.

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

House Request: None

Ianne is very compliant and is generally passive, rarely complaining and keeps her thoughts to herself most of the time. She finds it awkward to initiate conversations, but can interact well with others. She is slow to warm up, but very friendly once she becomes comfortable with her companions. Because she lived in Muggle London most of her life, Ianne learned not to reveal too much of herself to other people.

Most of Ianne’s friends describe her as very uptight and someone who gets easily anxious, as she is wary of authority figures and is afraid of punishment. As a result, she religiously follows rules and avoids getting involved with activities that may get her in trouble.  In the same way, Ianne hates confrontations, and tends to be very evasive and safe, especially when arguments get heated. She has a very sensitive nature, and can be emotional at times, but tries very hard not to let her frustrations show. Instead of lashing out, Ianne vents out on her needles and yarns, making different stitches and pulling them out after she covers a whole fabric.

When Ianne stays silent, that only means that she is busy working on something or she is observing what is happening around her. She likes to read people and situations, trying to assess and make inferences about them.

Ianne has almost none of her mother’s features, except for her eyes and small build. Everything else, from her skin to her hair, she got from her father. Ianne is short, a mere 4’6’ in height, and her thin frame results to a lack of body strength and stamina, although this does not bother her because she never found interest in athletics. Sometimes she has a difficult time navigating through a crowd, as she is easily jostled by those much bigger than her, and her preference for long dresses and skirts dwarf her image further.

Ianne’s blonde hair reaches down to her shoulder blades, while short strands of bangs usually fall loose from the bun she often wore. Her dark blue eyes contrast sharply with her fair skin, and no matter how much time she spends under the sun, her complexion would always return. She likes staying outdoors – reading a book, doing crafts, or having picnics with her friends – a sort of personal dare to see how much exposure she can take before tanning. As is turns out, she did tan easily, but it disappeared just as fast as well.

Her mother always said that she has small hands, but that they are deft and nimble in any sewing or embroidery tasks set upon her. This was what she enjoys doing the most, embroidering complex patterns on handkerchiefs or making lovely bonnets for her friends. This is how she passes time, sitting quietly while her hands are busy, sometimes even spending hours just completing a project. And when she is done her face would break into a smile, with her eyes turning into crescent slits. Her soft features reflect her gentle nature, but deceive many into thinking that she can easily be fooled.

Ugly, mean, nasty cat!

Ianne almost skated across the hallways, carefully laying out a small piece fabric on both her palms. A low growl rumbled in her throat as she tried to keep her temper in check. She swore she never did anything to Gwednolyn’s cat, so she could not understand why her roommate’s pet disliked her so much and just this morning made a scratching toy out of her current project.

And to think I was going to make him a plush toy!

A reparo did mend the split edges together, but now the design was all wrong and looked hideous, with the threads weaving in different directions. Even more vexing was Sniffles’ triumphant mew as Ianne groaned in frustration at her botched work. I swear that cat did something. That reparo was perfect!

The blonde was on her way to the Library, impatient to find a way to fix her problem. She barely noticed her surroundings, staring forlornly at the limp cloth she held while walking through corridors with practiced familiarity. As she turned a corner, Ianne hurried her steps, and almost ran into someone, had he not turned round and screamed right in her face.

Ianne squeaked in surprise, letting go of the fabric as she jerked her hands towards herself and looking utterly bewildered as the boy, who seemed to be the same age as her, finished his tirade. She had to purse her lips and furrow her brow to keep herself from smiling at how weird her day was going, but failed as a snort unintentionally escaped. She clamped her mouth apologetically while picking up the source of her troubles. “I’m sorry,” she started, clasping her hands together, “I didn’t mean to laugh.” He looked very upset, and suddenly Ianne felt bad for how she reacted. “But I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. My roommate’s cat from hell just destroyed two days’ worth of embroidery, and I can’t seem to mend it properly. So since it’s clear we’re both having a bad day,” she lifted and waved the cloth, “Can I go to the Library, and I’ll…let you do whatever it is you want to do?” The young girl shrugged and added, “You can even come, if you want. Just change your clothes first, you look like a mess.” 


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