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General Information
Character Name:
Sienna Renee Miller
Age:
11
Date of Birth:
7 September 1908
Blood Status:
Pureblood
Residence:
Ireland
Family:
Renee Miller (Mother - Healer)
Steve Miller (Father - Wandmaker)
Personality & House Preference
Personality:
Shy, Bookish, Loves Learning, Loves making friends
History:
Renee Miller hails from a well-known and very traditional wizarding family that has been for many generations scholars, historians and researchers. The Millers were always more concerned about the mind and the culture than with money or power. Their villa in the countryside was more of a library than a house, quite crowded with towering bookshelves, old scrolls, and the magical portraits of ancestors who, for many generations, had devoted their lives to the learning of magic. When Renee was old enough to read, her world was books. Her parents, both Ministry of Magic archivists, taught her that knowledge was like the purest form of magic — something that could not be stolen or polluted.
Renee was a very quiet girl, full of curiosity and a lot of thought, as well. While other kids were playing with toy broomsticks or chasing garden pixies, she would just as soon have been wrapped up in a spell book or researching magical creatures through picture books. She was quite a handful, constantly coming up with questions that were beyond her years - this amused her parents very much - and yes, it also made them a little irritated from time to time. Out of all the rooms in the house, her grandmother’s study was her favorite, there, if you happened to open any of the ancient magical texts, they would whisper faintly, and quills would write by themselves. It was her grandmother, a former Hogwarts professor of Ancient Runes, who presented Renee with the most special item for her - an enchanted leather-bound journal that auto-translates and categorizes her notes.
Renee was so excited that when her Hogwarts acceptance letter came, her hands shook. She had always dreamed of Hogwarts with all her life—the moving staircases, the Great Hall and the library most of all. Even so, under her joy, she had a bit of a nervous feeling that she would not be like the others and they might not understand her; they would rather be gaming or gossiping than studying quietly. She had her dreams of the day when she would be going to classes, getting friends and having a wonderful time and making memories and it would be the day her story started
House Preference:
ravenclaw
Year Preference:
first
Prompt Response:
The Great Hall was bustling with its usual morning routine - the clinking of cutlery, the rustling of owls who had just dropped letters, and the Norbert ... conversation. In fact, more than a hundred conversations were mingling under the enchanted ceiling. The bright sunlight coming through the tall windows made the plates gleam, and the smell of the breakfast was slowly rising.
Sienna was sitting at the far end of the table, carefully reading for the fifth time Standard Book of Spells, Grade One, while stirring her tea without a word. Pale fingers gently flipping each page, dark hair that was not tied falling in waves around her face. However, the peaceful atmosphere she had made for herself that morning didn't hold for very long.
“Merlin's beard, are you always reading?” came a rude voice from a few seats down. A fourth-year Ravenclaw boy - tall, loud, and proud of his prefect badge - was watching her with a smirk. “You must think you’re the smartest or the strangest one because you don’t talk.”
At first, Sienna didn't answer. She had heard worse. “Some people might find studying quite interesting,” she murmured, not looking at him.
The boy laughed and moved closer to her. “Learning? Or hiding? I am everywhere. You do not eat much. You are very pale. Maybe you are not as normal as you want to seem.”
The words cut with a knife through the noise of the hall. A number of students who were close enough to overhear stopped their talking not to seem theyare listening but actually, they were intently focusing on what was being said.
Sienna with a soft snap, closed her book. Her bright eyes with fire and a hint of red met his apathetic--rather--unsettling gaze when she finally lifted her head. “Be careful,” she whispered. “Those who start rumors are often the ones who get hurt by them.”
“What makes you think so?” he asked, pretending not to get it but actually, his voice was shaky as he scoffed.
Her smile in the face of his disbelief was a slight one, “The reason you need to think carefully about what you say and whether you could be right is that,” she said gently but firmly.
The candle flickered unusually tall for a short time then the normal size was regained and the boy mumbled something under his breath and marched away, his face burning with embarrassment.
The reluctance to continue was audible in her voice as if nothing had happened. By now, the whispers were dying away and the Great Hall was coming back to life — however, some students now secretly admired her.
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