Post by saoirse on Sept 23, 2008 16:42:16 GMT -5
Name
Saoirse Maeve Hartnett [SEER-sha MAYV HART-net]
D.O.B./Age
March third, 1980; seventeen.
Year
Seventh.
House
Gryffindor
Bloodline
Unknown/Debatable
Orientation
Bisexual, with a clear preference for females.
Wand
Twelve inches; willow; phoenix feather core. Rather rigid, and good for Transfiguration.
Patronus
It's hard to discern. She's never made a really stellar Patronus, but it appears to be a bird of some sort, perhaps a hawk.
Family History
Saoirse has had rather a boring life, save for the very beginning. She was born to parents Aidan and Maeve Hartnett one chilly March morning, and with her birth came her mother's death. Saoirse's birth was a long, exhausting ordeal, as her head was turned to the side as she crowned; this effectively ripped her mother to shreds, and the wounds of her mother were too severe. She died of blood loss not long after Saoirse was out of the womb, and Aidan was left to raise his daughter by himself.
For the first eleven years of her life, Saoirse led a normal life, attending Muggle school and living in a flat with her father. The pair always got on well, and had a clearly close bond. Both were completely and utterly shocked when the letter from Hogwarts was delivered to them. Her father certainly hadn't been a wizard. So was her mother secretly a witch? Or was Saoirse one of the rare Muggle-born witches? Saoirse still burns with the desire to know, and the fact that she never will is a torturous thought indeed.
However, it was evident that Saoirse was not a normal child from the time she was mobile. Objects that had been in her possession moments before mysteriously found themselves misplaced upon high shelves. There was a time when she was about six in which there was a mild infestation of rather large spiders in her apartment, and her resounding scream had driven all spiders from the building permanently. She was always rather bright for her age, but of course, none of these things were attributed to magic, and rather to her normally clever nature.
Other Family Members and Pets
Maeve Hartnett (deceased)
Aidan Hartnett (living on the outskirts of Dublin)
Hickory, a brown tabby cat Saoirse has at school.
Physical Description
Saoirse is, in a word, tiny. Very short and very thin, she possesses hardly enough curves to indicate femininity and stands only at about five foot one. Making her appear even smaller is her mass amount of thick brown hair with a reddish tint. It hangs somewhere a few inches past her elbows in subtle waves, and a sidebang frames the pale face that's faintly splattered with freckles. Hazel eyes, black-framed glasses, and a small nose and lips make up the features of her face. Her ears are pierced multiple times, but obscured by her hair, and frequently adorned with dangly earrings of any sort. Hers is a face one might consider pretty, but she is of the opinion that being a "midget" (her own words) is a terrible, most embarrassing thing. She is frequently seen in plain jeans and a cute T-shirt, with something witty or amusing scrawled across or drawn on it. She is a rather practical dresser and wears clothes for comfort, not fashion.
Personality
Saoirse is a rather loud, outspoken type of girl, her opinion not often going unheard. Incredibly stubborn and strong-willed to a fault, she is not easily swayed on her opinions. One could say she is a bit narrow-minded, but she's struggling to get rid of this perception. She's caring to those she knows, and it doesn't take much at all to get her to open up. Despite this, while she has a wide circle of acquaintances and sort-of-friends, she lacks many close friends, as her opinions tend to be rather intimidating and she's a bit pushy. She does have a rather witty, dry sense of humor though, and being around her for too long will make one see that she's spectacular at making light of any situation by cracking a joke. She does this even if it is an extremely inappropriate time to do so, and often receives a few raised eyebrows in response to her comments. However, it's clear that she means well most of the time, and although she'll certainly tell you if you're an idiot, she will not say so unless she is reasonably certain that this is the case.
She's also rather a bright girl, and the hat considered her for Ravenclaw before putting her in the house of the brave. However, it's obvious that she can't hold a candle to Hermione Granger, because otherwise she'd receive a bit more recognition. However, she's not bitter about this; she figures school is a get in, get out, get going type of business and the sooner she starts a career the better for her. Speaking of career, she's quite an animal-lover and would ultimately like to make her way into one of the Ministry of Magic's magical creatures divisions.
For the record, she's very against Voldemort and could probably be persuaded to become an Order member if she'd been out of school at the time. As it stands, though, she has a quiet hatred for the Dark Arts and would be interested in joining Dumbledore's Army.
Favorite Classes
Obviously, she's rather fond of Care of Magical Creatures. She is also adept at Transfiguration, although she wouldn't call it one of her very favorite classes. Potions also comes naturally to her, but seeing as every year she's had it with the Slytherins, her decent work had simply been glazed over by Snape.
Likes
Hickory, her cat; winning; being praised; animals in general; mythology; hospitals; cold coffee; hot tea.
Dislikes
Gaudy jewelry; cold tea; hot coffee; stuck-up people; losing; Dark Arts.
Roleplaying Sample
Clammy. Her hands were incredibly clammy, and she could feel the pressure of her fingernails being dug into the palms of her hands, but not the pain. She could hardly remember being so nervous in her life; sure, the few times she'd scored badly on a test had wracked her nerves, but that was nothing compared to what she was going through. She had wondered at first if the entirety of Hogwarts had been a joke, a ploy, but one look around the elaborate castle and the hundreds of students within had told her otherwise. Magic... was what she'd been doing for all these years magic? She could still hardly believe it. It seemed so surreal, so unbelievable. But here she was, standing up in front of hundreds of people.
Her face went, if possible, paler still as she realized Professor McGonagall had called her name.
"Hartnett, Saoirse."
Saoirse's heart lept, and she stumbled forward in utter terror. The hem of her black robe had gently touched the back of her leg, and she had to stifle a gasp as it made her jump. She was rather paranoid at the time, as could easily be seen by her pallor and demeanor.
And without even realizing it, the tiny girl had made her way up to the stool. She lowered herself onto it, heart thumping painfully against her chest. And then the hat was placed over her head. Immediately the world became the inside of an old, patched, somewhat musty old wizard's hat.
Nervous? muttered a tiny voice in her ear, filled with amusement.
It's talking to me, thought Saoirse wildly.
Of course. How to you expect me to Sort you if I can't get to know you? demanded the Hat inside her head. Anyway, let's get on with it. You're... rather intelligent, yes? I can see that. But you're very outspoken and unafraid of others. And you're more than willing to give your all to prove yourself, I see. Now... where would you like to go...?
The hat was asking her?
You're supposed to Sort me, I'm not supposed to sort myself, responded Saoirse mentally.
True! the hat mused. Suppose I ought to place you fast then. Better be...
"GRYFFINDOR!!"
Somewhat numb, Saoirse hopped off the stood and went to sit at the cheering Gryffindor table, and sunk down between two other girls that seemed much older than her. It had been a lot less painless than she'd previously thought. And she was in the most favored house, if she remembered correctly.
***
And immediately as the last cheers subsided, Saoirse was yanked out of her daydream from the past and focused on the current Sorting - except it was over. And the headmaster had already given the speech?
"Wow. I zoned out," she muttered sheepishly, helping herself to the mountains of food before her. Hopefully this year would be as productive as the past six.
[/center]Saoirse Maeve Hartnett [SEER-sha MAYV HART-net]
D.O.B./Age
March third, 1980; seventeen.
Year
Seventh.
House
Gryffindor
Bloodline
Unknown/Debatable
Orientation
Bisexual, with a clear preference for females.
Wand
Twelve inches; willow; phoenix feather core. Rather rigid, and good for Transfiguration.
Patronus
It's hard to discern. She's never made a really stellar Patronus, but it appears to be a bird of some sort, perhaps a hawk.
Family History
Saoirse has had rather a boring life, save for the very beginning. She was born to parents Aidan and Maeve Hartnett one chilly March morning, and with her birth came her mother's death. Saoirse's birth was a long, exhausting ordeal, as her head was turned to the side as she crowned; this effectively ripped her mother to shreds, and the wounds of her mother were too severe. She died of blood loss not long after Saoirse was out of the womb, and Aidan was left to raise his daughter by himself.
For the first eleven years of her life, Saoirse led a normal life, attending Muggle school and living in a flat with her father. The pair always got on well, and had a clearly close bond. Both were completely and utterly shocked when the letter from Hogwarts was delivered to them. Her father certainly hadn't been a wizard. So was her mother secretly a witch? Or was Saoirse one of the rare Muggle-born witches? Saoirse still burns with the desire to know, and the fact that she never will is a torturous thought indeed.
However, it was evident that Saoirse was not a normal child from the time she was mobile. Objects that had been in her possession moments before mysteriously found themselves misplaced upon high shelves. There was a time when she was about six in which there was a mild infestation of rather large spiders in her apartment, and her resounding scream had driven all spiders from the building permanently. She was always rather bright for her age, but of course, none of these things were attributed to magic, and rather to her normally clever nature.
Other Family Members and Pets
Maeve Hartnett (deceased)
Aidan Hartnett (living on the outskirts of Dublin)
Hickory, a brown tabby cat Saoirse has at school.
Physical Description
Saoirse is, in a word, tiny. Very short and very thin, she possesses hardly enough curves to indicate femininity and stands only at about five foot one. Making her appear even smaller is her mass amount of thick brown hair with a reddish tint. It hangs somewhere a few inches past her elbows in subtle waves, and a sidebang frames the pale face that's faintly splattered with freckles. Hazel eyes, black-framed glasses, and a small nose and lips make up the features of her face. Her ears are pierced multiple times, but obscured by her hair, and frequently adorned with dangly earrings of any sort. Hers is a face one might consider pretty, but she is of the opinion that being a "midget" (her own words) is a terrible, most embarrassing thing. She is frequently seen in plain jeans and a cute T-shirt, with something witty or amusing scrawled across or drawn on it. She is a rather practical dresser and wears clothes for comfort, not fashion.
Personality
Saoirse is a rather loud, outspoken type of girl, her opinion not often going unheard. Incredibly stubborn and strong-willed to a fault, she is not easily swayed on her opinions. One could say she is a bit narrow-minded, but she's struggling to get rid of this perception. She's caring to those she knows, and it doesn't take much at all to get her to open up. Despite this, while she has a wide circle of acquaintances and sort-of-friends, she lacks many close friends, as her opinions tend to be rather intimidating and she's a bit pushy. She does have a rather witty, dry sense of humor though, and being around her for too long will make one see that she's spectacular at making light of any situation by cracking a joke. She does this even if it is an extremely inappropriate time to do so, and often receives a few raised eyebrows in response to her comments. However, it's clear that she means well most of the time, and although she'll certainly tell you if you're an idiot, she will not say so unless she is reasonably certain that this is the case.
She's also rather a bright girl, and the hat considered her for Ravenclaw before putting her in the house of the brave. However, it's obvious that she can't hold a candle to Hermione Granger, because otherwise she'd receive a bit more recognition. However, she's not bitter about this; she figures school is a get in, get out, get going type of business and the sooner she starts a career the better for her. Speaking of career, she's quite an animal-lover and would ultimately like to make her way into one of the Ministry of Magic's magical creatures divisions.
For the record, she's very against Voldemort and could probably be persuaded to become an Order member if she'd been out of school at the time. As it stands, though, she has a quiet hatred for the Dark Arts and would be interested in joining Dumbledore's Army.
Favorite Classes
Obviously, she's rather fond of Care of Magical Creatures. She is also adept at Transfiguration, although she wouldn't call it one of her very favorite classes. Potions also comes naturally to her, but seeing as every year she's had it with the Slytherins, her decent work had simply been glazed over by Snape.
Likes
Hickory, her cat; winning; being praised; animals in general; mythology; hospitals; cold coffee; hot tea.
Dislikes
Gaudy jewelry; cold tea; hot coffee; stuck-up people; losing; Dark Arts.
Roleplaying Sample
Clammy. Her hands were incredibly clammy, and she could feel the pressure of her fingernails being dug into the palms of her hands, but not the pain. She could hardly remember being so nervous in her life; sure, the few times she'd scored badly on a test had wracked her nerves, but that was nothing compared to what she was going through. She had wondered at first if the entirety of Hogwarts had been a joke, a ploy, but one look around the elaborate castle and the hundreds of students within had told her otherwise. Magic... was what she'd been doing for all these years magic? She could still hardly believe it. It seemed so surreal, so unbelievable. But here she was, standing up in front of hundreds of people.
Her face went, if possible, paler still as she realized Professor McGonagall had called her name.
"Hartnett, Saoirse."
Saoirse's heart lept, and she stumbled forward in utter terror. The hem of her black robe had gently touched the back of her leg, and she had to stifle a gasp as it made her jump. She was rather paranoid at the time, as could easily be seen by her pallor and demeanor.
And without even realizing it, the tiny girl had made her way up to the stool. She lowered herself onto it, heart thumping painfully against her chest. And then the hat was placed over her head. Immediately the world became the inside of an old, patched, somewhat musty old wizard's hat.
Nervous? muttered a tiny voice in her ear, filled with amusement.
It's talking to me, thought Saoirse wildly.
Of course. How to you expect me to Sort you if I can't get to know you? demanded the Hat inside her head. Anyway, let's get on with it. You're... rather intelligent, yes? I can see that. But you're very outspoken and unafraid of others. And you're more than willing to give your all to prove yourself, I see. Now... where would you like to go...?
The hat was asking her?
You're supposed to Sort me, I'm not supposed to sort myself, responded Saoirse mentally.
True! the hat mused. Suppose I ought to place you fast then. Better be...
"GRYFFINDOR!!"
Somewhat numb, Saoirse hopped off the stood and went to sit at the cheering Gryffindor table, and sunk down between two other girls that seemed much older than her. It had been a lot less painless than she'd previously thought. And she was in the most favored house, if she remembered correctly.
***
And immediately as the last cheers subsided, Saoirse was yanked out of her daydream from the past and focused on the current Sorting - except it was over. And the headmaster had already given the speech?
"Wow. I zoned out," she muttered sheepishly, helping herself to the mountains of food before her. Hopefully this year would be as productive as the past six.