Post by Deleted on Jan 3, 2014 16:49:22 GMT -5
georgia marilyn macdermott
CANON OR ORIGINAL: original
AGE: fifteen
FACE CLAIM: barbara palvin
YEAR: fifth year
HOUSE: ravenclaw
OCCUPATION: not available
BLOOD TYPE: halfblood
WAND TYPE: a delightful eight inches, the wood of a cherry tree and with dittany stalk at its core.
PETS: a great gray owl, called sir. he fluffy and enormous, and he looks like he pays taxes.
ABILITIES: she's horribly interested in wandless magic and non-verbal magic. but, she's not quite old enough, just yet. and, you mustn't tell anyone. but, she and her twin sister, eugena, have a bit of telepathy.
freestyle
The golden handles of Georgia MacDermott's trunk were peeking out from underneath her duvet. She was dreading going through it, perfectly content to leave the rotten thing in it's place. She'd been back from school for two weeks, however, and it really was an eye sore. She couldn't count on one hand the amount of times she'd run into it or stubbed her toe on the way out of her small bedroom. With a huff of annoyance, Georgia stood, setting down the well-worn copy of Dreadful Denizens of the Deep. Outside her window, there was a slight ruckus. Probably some of the tenants - they really were a noisy bunch. Lovely, but noisy. She stepped around the trunk - avoiding it for just one more moment - and looked out the window. Goodness, was Kenmare beautiful. Green everywhere, the colorful buildings in the town, just down the hill. Georgia was truly blessed to have grown up here, in Ireland. She unlatched the window and pushed it open, smiling down at the couple from Room 5. Sweet as can be, newlyweds. Georgia still had yet to figure out what they were doing, living in a boarding house. Their only answer was that the wedding wiped them clean.
Honestly, when her mother bought this house, when she and Eugena - twin sister, thank you very much - were five, Georgia thought it was a palace. There were vines growing up the sides, and the yellow door could use a paint job, but they weren't a particularly wealthy family. Not at all. But, her Mum - The Unstoppable Degas MacDermott - fixed the place up and started renting out rooms. Which, was strange for a couple of kids and hard to grasp. Why were there strangers living in their home? But, as years go by and the faces grow familiar, it seemed like they were all just an enormous, dysfunctional family.
She glanced over her shoulder, "Time to unpack, Georgia dear."
The habit she had of talking to herself wasn't something that she was embarrassed about, but it also wasn't something she did outside of her bedroom. Georgia stepped back towards the trunk, tapping her chin and pondering how to approach this. She knew that it was packed full, haphazardly thrown items inside. She also knew that she probably wasn't strong enough to pull it out on the first try. So, she squatted down, grasped the golden handles riddled with fingerprints, and yanked as hard as she could.
That resulted in Georgia falling on her bum and her mother shouting, from downstairs, "Gia, dear. Are you alright?"
"Fine, Mum." She rubbed her backside, wincing a bit, and got ready to pull again - once, twice, three times. Finally it was in the middle of her floor and she was unlatching the hinges. It opened wide, the lid hitting the wooden floor, and sure enough there was the messy remains of her fourth year at Hogwarts. Her Ravenclaw robes - that she wore proudly, Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw. If you've a ready mind, where those of wit and learning will always find their kind. Georgia MacDermott thought that suited her just fine. Though, when her Mum had described the four houses to her, she'd always imagined she'd be more of a Hufflepuff.
"The had knows more than you, Georgia." She'd told herself, "Ravenclaw suits you just fine."
And, suit her it did. Looking down at her trunk, she spotted the copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, that was gifted to her by Mister O'Donohue - the delightfully plump, elderly man who resided in Room Three. He was an author himself, told her that Newt Scamander was absolutely wrong on absolutely everything - which was a load. But, it made her think of him, when she was studying. In the margins of the book were Mister O'Donohue's hurried, very angry scribbles. She always took it to school with her, as a memory and a bit of light reading. She loved re-reading books, and finding new things in them. That was the wonderful thing about them; sometimes you missed little facts or tidbits. Georgia felt strongly that reading things more than once was like reading an entirely new book every time.
By now, she could quote it word for word. The girl had a mind like a sponge, soaking up information. Georgia was the type of person who knew useless facts and liked to drop them into conversations, knowing full well it might go over people's heads. That, or they didn't care. She loved the idea though, that her intellect was superior. Not that she was arrogant, not at all. Georgia MacDermott just loved, well, knowledge.
That's probably why, of all the tenants in the house and all the items in her trunk, her favorite was The Monster Book of Monsters. Honestly, people could stop gifting her books. As much as she loved them, her collection was getting out of hand and a bit too large for the small MacDermott Library. She'd gotten it on her seventh birthday, from Adam Finch, an American wizard who lived in Room Two and had given her mother too many hints that he was interested.
She dropped the massive tome on her bed and watched as her duvet fluffed around it. Next, her robes came out and Georgia spent too much time laying them out neatly on her bed. They'd only be tossed in the corner, when she went to bed. For someone who was so very particular about her hobbies and her friends, she wasn't so much about her things and their place. In short, Georgia MacDermott was messy. Her room was cluttered and Degas MacDermott often scolded her, "Messy room makes for a messy head, Gia."
And, most of the time, her head was a mess. So many thoughts running around up there, she could hardly keep track of them. The only thing that really settled her was to dance. Goodness, how typical did that sound. The dancer finds her peace lacing up her pointe shoes. It was true, however. Georgia always felt more relaxed and more at peace when she was in relevé, full pointe. Her mind was fully concentrated on her posture and her ankles not breaking, really. She pulled her shoes out of the still very full trunk, tucking them under her arm as she reached for the next item - a painting her mother had done, of she and Eugena.
Those two women were Georgia's everything. Eugena was Gia's best friend in the world. And, Degas MacDermott was the driving force behind the family - immediate and illegitimate. Georgia aspired to be just like her Mum; wise and free, creative but grounded. She was like a hero in a novel. Her Mumma was daring and fierce, but she had such a kind soul. Honestly, in a perfect twist of fate, the girls split her traits down the middle - like they did most things. The painting depicted them perfectly, too. Though, there was no reason it shouldn't, Degas was an artist by nature. But, Georgia was all in pastels, with flowers around her and a pale blue sky. On Eugena's side, there were vibrant colors and splatters of paint. But, in the middle, their hands swirled together in a mixture of vibrant pinks and pale yellows. It was beautiful.
There was a knock on the door, the only other tenant in the house. It was strange that she was on the top floor, however. It wasn't against any rule, but most of them knew it was the MacDermott's place of living. The plump woman smoothed down her apron - the forever lovely Beverly smiling wide - and asked Georgia if she was hungry. She replied no, which meant Beverly was going to whip her up some biscuits or cakes, anyway. It wasn't all bad having a cook in the house - Georgia's Mum wasn't all too great at it.
The next thing out of her trunk was a crumpled up picture, with a few tears in the corner. It was her Dad, or at least who Degas said was their Dad. He had dark hair, thick eyebrows and a warm smile. In the picture, he was holding a woman - who wasn't looking at the camera - and swaying back and forward. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, something Georgia had yet to decipher, even after fifteen years of staring at it. The only thing she knew was this; she'd never truly know who their father was.
Eugena and Georgia had been told so many stories; about their father being some sort of hero, fighting dragons or villains or monsters. They'd been told he was a musician, who tamed a beast once with just his lute - which, might've been the reason Georgia had a knack for string instruments. But, in Gia's mind and in her heart, she knew that none of the extravagant stories her mother told were true. She'd never ask, however. Georgia knew she wasn't allowed to.
Degas would never admit it to them the truth, either. Georgia assumed that it was because her mother was still hurt by it. The MacDermott Boarding House was known in the wizarding world for housing wizards and witches who were between places - that was it's purpose. But, Degas couldn't have turned the twins' father away, when he'd come in on a stormy night. He was a muggle and he was lost. At the time, when Degas first met him, she'd just thought he was a squib - he'd never mentioned magic like the others. And, on the off chance that someone were to wander in, there was a strict "No Magic in the Common Areas" rule. He didn't know that she was a witch until she was already pregnant. It made him furious, and it made Degas horrified. She locked herself in Mister O'Donohue's room, while he cast a memory erasing charm on the man and sent him on his way, when he came to.
Georgia sighed, setting the photograph down on her bedside table. She stared at it for a moment later before deciding her unpacking could wait. She could smell Beverly's cooking, and it was calling her name. She stepped out of her bedroom - third on the right, just up the stairs - and tapped on her sister's door - second on the left, "Bev is making something, Genie. Come find out what?"
By the time the twins bounded down the stairs, the six members of their goofy family were sat around the table, chatting and laughing and sharing stories. Georgia admired the scene before her, committed it to memory, then sat at one head of the table, across from Genie at the other. This was really where she found her happiness.
This group was the essence of Georgia Marilyn MacDermott. She found all the qualities in herself in the folk around the table. The intelligence and desire for learning in Mister O'Donohue. The quiet reserve but cheerfulness of Adam Finch. The newlyweds, River and Dean, were hopeless romantics and a bit temperamental - just like Georgia. In Beverly, she saw a very precise nature. The way she moved around the kitchen seemed almost rehearsed, every step was intentional. Georgia was the same. In her mother she found creativity and in her sister, friendship.
They made her who she was. And Georgia was more than happy with that.
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HEY MY NAME IS HARLEY, AND I ALSO @sloan AND @rory. I FOUND THE SITE THROUGH MEANS A BRIDGE TROLL'S RIDDLE.
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