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General Information
Character Name:
Hera Redcliff
Age:
11
Date of Birth:
April 20th, 1909
Blood Status:
Pureblood
Residence:
Just outside Holyhead, Wales
Family:
Hera is the eldest child of Medwyn and Thea, and sister to her brother Maddox.
Personality & House Preference
Personality:
At her best, she is a happy-go-lucky child but she undergoes mood swings because of her recurring medical condition, and has a number of defensive triggers because of it too. She enjoys and seeks loyalty in life (both to give and receive) but simultaneously distrusts believing deeply in it, fearing that it will burn her or ultimately prove to not really exist outside of her family. While she’s not unkind and intends to mean well, Hera usually doesn’t care to stick her neck out for other people’s problems for the sake of it. Especially not if their problem conflicts with her own comfort or safety. Dealing with her condition probably makes her braver than she believes that she is, though, and she’s driven towards knowledge for self-improvement and to disprove her insecurities.
History:
Hera’s life is like a culture’s calendar in that it’s marked by eras, before and after significant births or events. As firstborn child of the Redcliffs, she was passed around by unnumbered hands of extended relatives and adored for her existence. Not a political heir in the traditional sense, a pureblood family still celebrates few things as sincerely as a new baby that shares their DNA. The child became a representation of a kind of divinity. An icon of both all the good two people have accomplished, and one of all the family’s egotism for its own blood. And, so, the family silently congratulates itself on its holiness. For what else could make something divine?
Hera Redcliff’s reign in her home’s heart went unchallenged for seven years until the birth of Maddox. A boy and proper heir.
The change was subtle but still present. Not a loss of love or assets exactly. Her parents had never promised their daughter any specific destiny. But the fact that the smaller child was immediately foreseen as having one by birthright was noticed. For Hera’s name, however, there was no future mentioned. Simply existing. To be, not to have or achieve, became the noticeable expectation. Still, to exist in a world of parlor games and sunshine was never depressing and Hera quickly became her brother’s biggest fan.
And then came the next era of the calendar.
Hera was attacked by a werewolf while the Redcliff family was camping, approximately a year and a half before her invitation to Hogwarts. As a natural wanderer, the young girl had separated herself from her family by a short distance one evening when a werewolf that was roaming through the area found her alone. The creature was soon stopped by some Aurors who had been searching for it but not before it had inflicted injuries on Hera that still remain as scars on the side of her body. Most detailed memories of the attack were seemingly lost to time; or perhaps she just refused to acknowledge them. What little she would admit to herself came from the recurring nightmares, born from what seemed to be the more vengeful memories that refused to be wholly dismissed and exaggerated themselves to be better remembered.
A halo of darkness around her, set against the light of her family that she’d wandered away from. Trees, thick and growing upwards forever, like the legs of forest gods. Silence if not for the sound of heavy breathing. Or the panting of a dog. And the wolf that stared directly at her with eyes that glowed within the dark fur of its face. A wolf with human eyes. Like eyes that knew what words were. That weren’t mistaking what they saw for a new type of wildlife. Eyes that knew what a human child was, and that’s what made them so hungry. The nightmares always made them appear dinner plate sized in Hera’s mind. At least they distracted from the fangs.
Hera’s lycanthropy was quickly registered with the Ministry and closely monitored.
While Medwyn and Thea do thoroughly love their daughter, their struggle to emotionally adapt to her permanent medical condition, along with the stress of keeping the youngest child safe from his sister’s transformations, have left the couple’s affections less overt than Hera would like. She’s acutely aware, despite receiving no blame about it, that she’s seen as a potential danger to her brother and has internalised the feeling that her lycanthropy is the lens through which people view her over anything else. One positive prospect about coming to Hogwarts is that almost nobody knows her, and that she’ll have the opportunity to create her own image of herself for every person she meets.
House Preference:
Slytherin or Ravenclaw
Year Preference:
1st
Prompt Response:
Six months into term and Hera still had trouble getting used to the castle’s breakfast schedule. Groggy eyes which stared at nothing, barely combed hair, and little teeth that picked at the food brought to them by little hands. Like a small dog in girl form on a bench seat. Except dogs could usually go back to bed after eating if they wanted to. She felt sick to be eating so much before her sense of hunger had time to wake up but the dark pit, that came with an approaching transformation day, willed the food inside. Whether her stomach wanted it yet or not, the pit was hungry. Transformations wanted fats and sugars, the Ministry healers had explained.
Sometimes you’ll feel like eating even when you don’t feel like eating.
Hera finished the last of her blood sausage, drank the last of her juice, and untucked her legs from the table’s seat without saying goodbye to anyone. Her throat let out a low burp, that she moved her sleeve up to her mouth to smother after it had already gone, as she walked back across the great hall towards the door. A bigger student, coming in the opposite direction, roughly shoved his body through her shoulder as he passed.
"Move," his voice said simply, as if he was commanding furniture. The small girl turned to look at the one who had pushed her, and found that his face was familiar. The boy’s name, unknown to Hera, was Charles Bogbern. What she did know was that his friends called him Boggers, and that there was a third name for him used by people who weren’t his friends.
Bogies.
She tried to not be irritated. At the back of her mind, Hera could almost hear her parents quickly redirecting her out of the room to discourage her from making a scene. It wasn’t worth it, they would say. She had to be a good girl and not get angry about everyone who was going to be rude. There were things more important than feeling like you need to be proven right, their imagined voices said. Well... Her parents weren’t there. And she was irritated.
Hera followed the taller boy to his table and took up a position beside his shoulder before she tapped on him. "Excuse me," she said, her voice polite but flat and unfriendly. "You hurt my shoulder when you shoved me. That means you need to say you’re sorry."
Miscellaneous
Other Characters
NA
How did you find us?
Magic
