| Lindsay Thatch
September 6, 1962 | Ayla Browne | Friendly | Tomboy | Adventurous
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Lindsay Thatch was born on a brisk autumn morning in 1962, the eldest child of Quentin and Bridget Thatch. Quentin, a charming but absent-minded historian, and Bridget, a skilled herbalist with a knack for gardening, lived in a cozy but somewhat chaotic flat in North London. From an early age, Lindsay was an energetic whirlwind—a bright-eyed girl with a shock of golden hair who loved climbing trees, chasing after stray cats, and exploring every nook and cranny of her neighborhood.
Lindsay’s boundless energy made her a hero to her younger brother Wally, born when she was three. She affectionately dubbed him her “little explorer,” and the two were nearly inseparable. Together, they built forts, dug holes in the park in search of “hidden treasures,” and made up grand stories of knights, dragons, and brave heroines. Seven years after Lindsay’s arrival, Ciara was born—a tiny, red-cheeked bundle. Lindsay took one look at her baby sister and declared, “She’s mine to protect.”
As Lindsay grew, her penchant for adventure and a kind heart endeared her to everyone around her. Though she was often covered in mud or sporting scrapes from her latest escapade, Lindsay was the first to comfort a hurt friend or share her lunch with someone who’d forgotten theirs.
When Lindsay was around seven, strange things started happening. Once, while playing in the garden, she tripped and fell, only to find herself hovering inches above the ground. Another time, she accidentally turned the neighbor’s ginger cat bright blue after an argument about her “borrowing” its favorite spot. Her parents, who had always suspected magic in the family but kept it quiet, exchanged knowing looks and decided it was time to prepare her.
It wasn’t until the summer of her eleventh birthday that Lindsay’s magical heritage became official. On an ordinary afternoon, she heard a strange tapping at the window. Peeking through, she saw an owl—a magnificent tawny creature with a scroll clutched in its talons. As Lindsay opened the window, the owl dropped the letter into her hands and hooted once before flying away.
Her hands trembled with excitement as she unfolded the thick parchment, her bright blue eyes scanning the elegant green script:
Dear Miss Thatch,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Lindsay let out an ecstatic whoop, startling her mother, who dropped a watering can. Quentin burst into the room, and Wally came running, clutching his wooden sword. Lindsay waved the letter triumphantly, unable to contain her joy. “I’m a witch! I’m going to Hogwarts! This is the best adventure ever!”
The next weeks were a blur of preparation. Bridget and Quentin took Lindsay to Diagon Alley, where she gazed in awe at the shops selling robes, potions, and spellbooks. She nearly passed out from excitement when she chose her wand—a sturdy length of chestnut with a phoenix feather core.
As the summer days melted away, Lindsay eagerly told Wally and Ciara all about what she imagined Hogwarts would be like: secret passageways, grand feasts, and, of course, magical creatures. Though Wally pretended to be unimpressed, he listened intently, already dreaming of his own letter in a few years.
When the day finally arrived, Lindsay boarded the Hogwarts Express with her new robes, wand, and a head full of dreams. As the train pulled away, she waved wildly at her family, feeling a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. Hogwarts was calling, and Lindsay Thatch couldn’t wait to answer. |
