Adaline Maura Reid née Dickens
24th October 1836
Swallowbury district, Irvingly
Laurence Dickens | Father | 1802
Bathsheba Dickens | Mother | 1808
Wilhelmina Brooke née Dickens | Sister | 1832
-- and family
Edgar Dickens | Brother | 1834
-- and family
Peggy Linton née Dickens| Sister | 1839
-- and family
Sean Reid | Husband | 18??
Philander Fletcher Reid | Son | 1855
Theodosia Jane Reid | Daughter | 1857-1857
Whitfield Carter Reid | Son | 1858-1858
Clemence May Reid | Daughter | 1863-1863
Temerita Louise Reid | Daughter | 1866
Much closer now to fifty than to forty, Adaline does look reasonably young for her age, her wavy hair retaining its dark brown colour (although thanks to the wizarding world, there are some hair potions that are bound to disguise the grey when it tries to infiltrate!) and the only evidence of her age some well-worn crow’s feet and laughter lines. She has a long, thin face, brown eyes - both her children inherited her husband’s blue - and vaguely horsey teeth, but lively expressions have always enhanced her looks. At a simple 5’0, she’s always been slight in figure, though her active lifestyle has always seen her capabilities surprisingly robust. She is persistently left-handed.
CHILDHOOD | Adaline was born in 1836, the third child of Laurence and Bathsheba, onto the Dickens family farm in Dorset. The family having owned the land - and it having been a farm - for as long as could be remembered, they had long since risen to the prosperous middle class, and remain quite comfortably there, as long as the harvest season goes well and the livestock remains healthy. As a child, Adaline takes care of the geese (and the chickens too, until Peggy is old enough to want something of her own to do). Naturally, she and her siblings have to attend the local school and not just roam free on the farm, but they do, entirely willingly, pitch in on the afternoons and weekends, never afraid to get their hands dirty despite all the resident workers who are paid for their labour. Adaline discovers an early love for the family vegetable patch, and labours over her individual little plot in the garden with relentless enthusiasm, come rain or shine.
Though for a phase she imitates her eldest sister in devout study of ladylike qualities and learning, harbouring a brief dream to be a governess, her piano-playing never keeps in league with her hearty singing, and the only ones to ever hear her French are the geese, and honestly she is too attached to the farm and the countryside to truly want to leave. Wilhelmina doesn’t leave to become a governess, either, but rather to get married to Mr. Brooke, the vicar in the next village over.
At sixteen, Adaline’s long-harboured fancy for one of the young farm labourers culminates in the loss of her virginity, but this remains unbeknownst to anyone (save her sisters, of course). Adaline would happily marry Reuben, too, if only he actually had anything in his name to offer. As it is, however, the arrival of some new machinery to the farm eliminates the need for quite so many farmhands, and Reuben is one of those soon laid off. Adaline is heartbroken, for a time.
1853 | However, on a trip to town only the next year, Adaline comes across a young Scotsman - only passing through, probably - and falls for him hard. Well. They are rather rude to each other on that first instance of their meeting, but by the happy coincidence of bumping into him again a few weeks later, her impressions of him have softened, and something more sparks. It is all a bit of a whirlwind, but he’s soon met her family, and both she and her parents have gotten quite attached to Mr. Sean Reid. He has already proposed engagement when Adaline finally meets his family (with the practicalities of a trip to Scotland having delayed the plans somewhat), who do not seem especially pleased with Adaline, and something about them proves a little off. Whilst it has all been a touch overwhelming, her doubts do not linger long: Sean himself is lovely, and she is quite set on him. It doesn’t hurt that he seems quite genuinely happy in Dorset, and even already had plans to set up a house there, not all too out of touch from the Dickens’ farm. It is a mere two days before their wedding that Sean manages to break the news of him being a wizard, and in a very by-the-way manner, too! Fortunately for him, Adaline is hardly fazed, and there she is, getting married to a wizard.
It’s all very new and exciting, this. For all Adaline’s innate adventurousness, she settles into the ordinary domesticity of married life and home-making with as much enthusiasm as anything. Sean works for his magical Ministry - Adaline isn’t exactly sure what he does all day - but he travels to and fro magically simply, and she is terribly interested whenever he does cast some crumbs of description of his days.
1855 | Her first pregnancy passes by quite easily (her older sister is already a mother, and her younger sister is now engaged to one of the greengrocer’s sons) and Adaline and Sean soon have a son, a baby boy that is quite certainly the best thing that has ever happened to her. They name him Philander.
1857 | Adaline has been so thrilled about her second pregnancy that it scarcely crosses her mind that anything should go wrong; Theodosia comes several weeks early, but is the most precious little girl -- to see her die, but three days old, destroys Adaline completely. She is not herself, doesn’t know how to comprehend this, and leans heavily on her husband.
1858 | She had not been ready for another pregnancy, not so soon after Theodosia, but there it is, and she dares - dares - to think that perhaps another child will be consolation for the one she has lost. A boy named Whitfield, he dies in her arms, before Sean has even gotten the chance to meet him. What has she done wrong? What has she done to deserve this? Perhaps that is a sign, instead, that they have been granted their lot, and should not be greedy.
1860 | She has had a miscarriage, and after an exhausting night of hysterics Adaline does not catch her son trying to fly. He jumps out of a window, and it is a miracle he survives with only broken arms. She is a bad mother, a terrible mother - her family must be saying it; she is sure Sean’s family are - and she doesn’t deserve another child when she cannot keep her first safe. Angry with herself, Adaline does her best to make up for it, by doting on Philander, doting on Sean, by throwing herself into her gardening, by being friendly and sociable and content with her lot in life.
1861 | She scarcely has time to adjust to being pregnant again - does not rejoice, barely takes a breath - before it is gone, she’s empty again. Her resolve has been sapped, too.
1863 | Philander is a wizard, like his father. Adaline is immensely proud, although that means she will eventually have to let him off to magical school. But there are nearer problems to preoccupy her: once again, pregnancy - a curse, and a curse she is tired of - is a gruelling stretch, though it does last eight months, and Sean and Adaline’s eyes widen as that time goes by. She goes into labour, sees her daughter, gives her a name. Clemence, an appeal for some clemency from fate. The wish goes ungranted; the baby is already gone.
1864 | She is defeated, absolutely defeated, though she has shared it less and less every time with the outside world. Less with Sean, too; he seems to grow ever more distant, and he is always at work, anyway. Adaline has Philander, at least, who is growing up healthy and happy and kind, and plants, at least, are life she is always capable of nurturing. She comes to rely on her family more than she does on Sean, spends a lot of time taking Philander to the Dickens’ farm, doting on her nieces and nephews and trying not to begrudge her siblings and in-laws’ own happiness.
1866 | She despises Sean for letting her go through this again. How is she supposed to survive this? Is she supposed to be desensitised, now? She has merely been going through the motions for nine months, trying to build up her readiness for the inevitable. It is a held breath, as a daughter is born, as hours become days become weeks, months, eventually... years? Temerita. A little girl, a living child. All is not lost, after all.
She is not sure she would have been able to let Philander go - off to Hogwarts as he does - if she had not had her daughter now, brightening her days at home with her. Temerita is perfectly healthy, grows up well; a miracle.
1870, ONWARDS | When she is not worrying about Philander playing a sport on broomsticks - in the air! - Adaline is curious about her daughter’s oddities. She spends a lot of time with her daughter and Adaline has always been open and observant, so it is not hard to notice. There is something there, something not present in ordinary children. Sometimes it a comment her daughter makes, a knowingness, sometimes just a certain look in her eyes. When she passes on her musing to her husband, Sean sees nothing in it. Adaline might be from a family of muggles, but she can still recognise a touch of the extraordinary or the psychic if she sees it. Her grandmother might not have had magic, but she had been adept at something. Adaline resolves to keep a close eye on her daughter (moreso than she already does).
A few years later, it is evident she has been proven right, and there is something special about Temerita. Sean knows what is and isn’t ordinary in the wizarding world, after all, and Adaline learns what she can. She even writes a letter about her daughter’s special circumstances, wanting to make it plain, to protect her daughter, and to ensure that she gets everything she needs.
She wants the same for her son, too, who, after graduating, has kept on the sport as his career. Quidditch, it is called; it is a queer thing to see. (It does not get easier, to see him risking his life, so carefree, but heaven knows that to her grown-up son, it only looks like she is fussing overly.)
She wants the best for her husband, quite the same, but doesn’t ever seem to know exactly what he wants, and eventually, Adaline realises all she can do is try. She strives for contentment of her own, as well, and has perfected her exuberantly sunny demeanour, as though nothing can get to her.
1882 | Sean moves them to Irvingly, a new settlement where magic can co-exist with ordinary life. It is difficult to explain to her family, who only know what they must, and for Adaline to reconcile with herself, having always lived in the same English countryside, with her family so near. However, she has enough adventurousness and curiosity left to want to experience more of the magical world, and with her children growing up so fast, any way to be more connected with their lives suits her just fine. Her husband will probably also enjoy less isolation - and he can hardly complain about being in Scotland again - but Adaline has come to conclude her husband is a man who will do what he wants, regardless. (She knows about at least some of his infidelity, mostly through her ability to read the signs and read him than any hard evidence. She does not resent him - not really - but she drops subtle hints if she must, plays on his guilt - he probably feels some guilt, she imagines - resolving that she will make the best of it, and find ways of making herself happy, whether that is by going shopping to buy silly things or redecorating the house on a whim.) The only thing she insists that must accompany them to the new house in Irvingly are the perennials she planted for each of her lost children, so she digs up a corner of the garden to install in the new one. She is also excited about the prospect of creating a new garden; she will have vegetables, a greenhouse, some flowerbeds, and even some magical plants.
The garden soon blooms into an enviable area, packed with plants of all sorts.
1884 | Temerita graduates in May; as ever, Adaline is overwhelmingly proud. Summer comes, though, and the plague is her enemy of the year, and she frets ceaselessly, but for once - for once - they are spared the suffering, and her family all pull through.
Temerita also takes up a job at the wand shop, Ollivanders. (It is apparently quite prestigious a name and a place!) It is awfully impressive, and she certainly understands her daughter’s need to keep busy, though the busier her daughter is with her own life, the less her mother gets to see her, and that is always a shame for her.
That winter, her plants face tough conditions, and some magical research offers an opportunity to speed their growth. Mooncalf dung, but she cannot find it anywhere, and she grows desperate, snatches it from another wizard’s field. It works a treat, though, and she doesn’t rule out the option of obtaining more when required.
1885 | Quite happy, herself, Adaline’s primary aim remains making sure her children are as happy as they could possibly be, and she will do all in her power to make it so. She would rather like to see them both married, but that dream might require a little prodding to turn into a reality.
Resilient; she has done her best to battle hardship without being scarred by it, and her sunniness is so firmly fixed in her nature that it proves a strong shield. With a sharper mind than most might expect, nevertheless she lives by simple pleasures, and values goodness and happiness fiercely. Thus, what she has she keeps very dear to her, and is committed with the full force of her being. As a mother, she is both soft and reasonable, though always adaptable; with the rest of the world, Adaline is a little more wilful. Much as she keeps her truest feelings locked inside, she seems more open than anyone, free-spirited, friendly, extroverted and talkative. She chatters - or hums, or sings - almost constantly, whether in the company of people or merely the vegetable patch. Sincerely curious about people, Adaline lives to coax other people out of their shells, and admires plainness and honesty (though she herself will wheedle if she has to, and is often rather set on gaining what she wants). Her buoyant nature can lend itself to acting too carelessly, on whims, following her heart or trusting instinct, but she would never set out to intentionally harm a soul.
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set by Bee, LOOK AT HOW GROWN-UP MY BABY IS