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Eurydice Lovegood · April 1, 2024 – 2:44 PM

In-Character

Full Name: Eurydice Juliet Lovegood
Nicknames: Eury
Birthdate: June 13th, 1873
Current Age: 20
Gender: Female
Occupation: Doomed Debutante?
Reputation: 8 or 9

At nearly 21, she’s a bit old for a fresh debutante, and also there’s the thing that happens whenever she tries to converse with someone.

Residence:

India, but will be staying with an aunt in Swallowbury, Irvingly for the coming Season.

Hogwarts House: Attended Mandira (1884-1889)
Wand: Banyan, ten inches, with a phoenix tail feather core. Supple.
Blood Status: Pureblood
Social Class: Upper Class
Family:

Odin Lovegood, Father [1830]
Daphne Lovegood nee Nott, Mother [1841-1892]
A. Lovegood, Brother [1864]
B. Lovegood, Brother [1868]
Concordia — nee Lovegood, Sister [1868], and family
D. Lovegood, Brother [1871]
F. Lovegood, Sister [1875]

Eury has maternal and paternal relations in England that she is excited to meet.

Appearance:

Ethnicity: Caucasian
Height: Five feet and one quarter inch
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Grey
Build: Healthy, with the appropriate womanly curves.
Attire: Happy to be dressed by her aunt as she herself is unfamiliar with the latest English fashions, Eury will be unleashed in an altogether new wardrobe featuring light colours and the fashions of ‘94
Wand Arm: Right
Of Note:
A discoloured patch on her left wrist, often (but not always) obscured by gloves, has something of a bangle-like pattern to it. It is just over a quarter-inch thick.

Tends to be soft-spoken

Her PB is Sydney Sweeny.

History:

I. The World’s Least Capable Parents

Meet Odin & Daphne The match, I was told, was arranged by our grandfather. I think Mama told us this so we could see the beauty in an arranged match should we ever find ourselves with one. In time, though, it came also to make sense: Papa has a great many gifts, but focusing upon finding a wife would likely never have been one of them.

(Papa doesn’t know that I know.)

They were never physically absent parents, simply absentminded, delivering unto each of us the affection of which they were capable. Papa of course loved A. best, but appreciated greatly that D. and I both had a gift for languages (fat load of good that would do). Mama doted upon her girls, but also fretted about us endlessly.

You see, in addition to being busy with his work, fascinated by his research, and deeply attached to his man of business, Papa had Mama to contend with. And in spite of being beautiful and loving with her whole heart, Mama was, perhaps, the most superstitious person I will ever encounter.

This mightn’t have been a problem, except almost all of us were born on Friday the 13th.

II. Ill-Luck, Coincidence, & Exactly One Actual Curse

Early Years
1873 - 1883 By the time I came along, there were already four before me, each of us named in alphabetical order “for the sake of my nerves”, Mama said when questioned. She always needed to have things just so, and that included us, it seems. A., I expect, had as normal a childhood as any of us were ever going to, but the rest of us were burdened with Mama’s fears that we were Doomed from the start.

We were raised with an overabundance of nannies, and each had a house elf to follow us everywhere. Privacy was only the vaguest concept, for she had to know our whereabouts at all times. The pocketwatch she carried was not a clock, but a tracker for each of us, pointing to different rooms of the house to indicate our locations. Still, we found time to be children, and though we were not permitted friends outside the house, we were all quite close as siblings.

Papa’s indulgence of Mama’s nerves, however, had a very firm limit: our educations. And so, she waved each of us off sobbing in turn as we departed for school at Mandira.

School, Before
1884-1886 That I spoke both English and Hindi proved quickly to be a benefit, allowing me to interact more readily with a wider range of my peers. This did not always earn me friendships, though, as those who likewise hailed from English families were not always so open to those different than they were, and more than once, those native to India—native in a way that I can never be in spite of being born there—didn’t like me explicitly because of why my family was there, as an arm of the English magical government. But aside from these social difficulties, I did indeed love my time at school. Even in a dormitory, it was the first time I could know privacy, and for the first time, I was away from the weight of my mother’s fears for my well-being (but not her daily letters).

In 1885, D. had an opportunity I would have (figuratively!) killed for: a chance to go to England as part of the Pan-Magical Games. I was dreadfully jealous, but dutifully bolstered his spirits in my letters to him throughout that year. That was also the year that Concordia’s intended, in what was indeed an arranged match, perished in a sudden landslide. Mama blamed the curse. Papa blamed the Weather Witches for not predicting the event in time to vacate the area.

In 1886, it seemed Mama once again had been proven right—her viewpoint—slash the family suffered very ill luck, as everyone else saw it: F. was a squib. Oh, and then there’s my thing.

The Curse
Summer 1886 Cursebreaking is an entire industry for a reason. Civilizations for centuries, if not millennia, have been laying curses upon what’s theirs to stop it from being taken by thieves, conquest, or young schoolgirls who like shiny baubles.

I think, surely, someone must have told me not to put on the bangle, that it wasn’t mine, but it was so lovely, and I had tried to ingratiate myself with some of the girls from school by being bold, taking it from a display in the house of the host of whatever event we were at.

On my wrist it went.

Into my wrist it went.

My screams of horror (no pain, that much is a mercy) as it fused with my skin, leaving a mark upon my wrist not unlike the henna I had seen on others were coherent enough. As were my thoughts. But as the other girls ran away, adults came in, all I could manage to say was Bracelets are lovely, are they not? Like a necklace, but for your wrist!

It was the most insipid thing I’d ever said.

It was the opening line of the rest of my life.

School, After
1886-1889 The rest of that summer was a whirlwind of healers, curse breakers, strange tonics—anything that could get the stolen bangle back out of me, restore me to the way I had been. As the summer months waned, though, it became clear that it was not going to be easily remedied. Once again, Papa put his foot down when it came to my education: I returned to school.

Embarrassed, even ashamed, by what I had become, I resigned myself to being seen and not heard. My written schoolwork was still completed to a high standard, but when called upon in class I sounded as though I had never met a thought I wouldn’t lose in broad daylight, and while I could still largely manage the spells I had learned in my first two years, managing to work my mouth around new spells was difficult enough to bring me to tears on a regular basis. It was decided just before my sixteenth birthday that I wouldn’t be returning to school.

(Coincidentally, this was the same week that D. lost his arm in a freak Exploding Snap accident, which saw even Papa concede to banning the game for us all.)

III. Three Funerals and a Wedding. Oh, and a brain bleed.

Fernando
1889 Concordia’s second intended, with whom she was almost certainly in love, was bitten by a snake and perished before he could receive medical treatment.

A Perpetual Loser
1890 My brother lost a race. He loses every race, every bet, every coin toss, every hand of cards. He could be in a footrace against a legless dog and still find a way to come in last. Unfortunately, this particular race was of the magic carpet variety, and “losing” meant “falling to his near death”. We were all beside ourselves for weeks until he was out of harm’s way, and from that day, B. lost some of the sparkle to his smiles.

Mama
1891 Cholera. I wish not to speak of it.

Theodore
1891 Also cholera. Once again, Concordia’s intended. I don’t think she particularly liked this one, at least, but by now she was beginning to worry that she was “too old”—at a mere four and twenty! Then again, all the mourning could not have been healthy for her prospects.

Concordia
1893 Just before Christmas, our dear sister finally married. I must confess, given his… advanced years, I rather expected him to die as the others all did, but she seems happy enough. On her honeymoon, she was the second of us—of all five of us!—to visit our parents’ homeland, and whilst she was visiting, our mother’s sister was reminded of our existence. I think it was that visit that set things in motion.

IV. A Great Adventure!

To England!
1894 Aunt — wrote to father. I didn’t see the letter, of course, but the fact that neither F. nor I were out in spite of being of an age suggested to her that Papa was neglecting our needs in the wake of Mama’s absence, and she offered to sponsor us for a season.

I am vaguely terrified, but entirely excited.

Personality:

RESERVED* — INTELLIGENT — FAMILY-ORIENTED — KIND — EASILY FRUSTRATED* — ARTISTIC

* Was once “confident” and “composed” instead
Other:

SKILLS:

Languages: Fluent in English, Hindi; Capable in French; Written Latin

Always good with Languages, but now picks them up better in writing than orally.

Womanly Skills: Has them. Particularly the harp and watercolours. Couldn’t sing even before her affliction, and her needlework is best described as “adequate”.

TRIVIA:

Boggart: TBD

Amortentia: TBD

The Affliction: Insists on calling it this because “curse” was a word bandied about by her mother so often that it lacks any concrete meaning and brings with it some low-grade trauma. Eury is intelligent. She can write a baller letter and follow discussions on complex topics. It isn’t that she is saying gibberish, she is just saying the least useful related thing possible.

Her childhood house elf, Flossy, accompanied her to England and serves as a lady’s maid of sorts.

Out-of-Character

Name: Kayte
Age: 30s
Contact: PM Aldous Crouch

— mj remains an icon ♥ —

Elias Grimstone · April 3, 2024 – 1:43 PM

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look ANOTHER beautiful bee!set <3

Early Years 1873 - 1883	By the time I came along, there were already four before me, each of us named in alphabetical order “for the sake of my nerves”, Mama said when questioned. She always needed to have things just so, and that included us, it seems. A., I expect, had as normal a childhood as any of us were ever going to, but the rest of us were burdened with Mama’s fears that we were Doomed from the start. We were raised with an overabundance of nannies, and each had a house elf to follow us everywhere. Privacy was only the vaguest concept, for she had to know our whereabouts at all times. The pocketwatch she carried was not a clock, but a tracker for each of us, pointing to different rooms of the house to indicate our locations. Still, we found time to be children, and though we were not permitted friends outside the house, we were all quite close as siblings. Papa’s indulgence of Mama’s nerves, however, had a very firm limit: our educations. And so, she waved each of us off sobbing in turn as we departed for school at Mandira.
School, Before 1884-1886	That I spoke both English and Hindi proved quickly to be a benefit, allowing me to interact more readily with a wider range of my peers. This did not always earn me friendships, though, as those who likewise hailed from English families were not always so open to those different than they were, and more than once, those native to India—native in a way that I can never be in spite of being born there—didn’t like me explicitly because of why my family was there, as an arm of the English magical government. But aside from these social difficulties, I did indeed love my time at school. Even in a dormitory, it was the first time I could know privacy, and for the first time, I was away from the weight of my mother’s fears for my well-being (but not her daily letters). In 1885, D. had an opportunity I would have (figuratively!) killed for: a chance to go to England as part of the Pan-Magical Games. I was dreadfully jealous, but dutifully bolstered his spirits in my letters to him throughout that year. That was also the year that Concordia’s intended, in what was indeed an arranged match, perished in a sudden landslide. Mama blamed the curse. Papa blamed the Weather Witches for not predicting the event in time to vacate the area. In 1886, it seemed Mama once again had been proven right—her viewpoint—slash the family suffered very ill luck, as everyone else saw it: F. was a squib. Oh, and then there’s my thing.
The Curse Summer 1886	Cursebreaking is an entire industry for a reason. Civilizations for centuries, if not millennia, have been laying curses upon what’s theirs to stop it from being taken by thieves, conquest, or young schoolgirls who like shiny baubles. I think, surely, someone must have told me not to put on the bangle, that it wasn’t mine, but it was so lovely, and I had tried to ingratiate myself with some of the girls from school by being bold, taking it from a display in the house of the host of whatever event we were at. On my wrist it went. Into my wrist it went. My screams of horror (no pain, that much is a mercy) as it fused with my skin, leaving a mark upon my wrist not unlike the henna I had seen on others were coherent enough. As were my thoughts. But as the other girls ran away, adults came in, all I could manage to say was Bracelets are lovely, are they not? Like a necklace, but for your wrist! It was the most insipid thing I’d ever said. It was the opening line of the rest of my life.
School, After 1886-1889	The rest of that summer was a whirlwind of healers, curse breakers, strange tonics—anything that could get the stolen bangle back out of me, restore me to the way I had been. As the summer months waned, though, it became clear that it was not going to be easily remedied. Once again, Papa put his foot down when it came to my education: I returned to school. Embarrassed, even ashamed, by what I had become, I resigned myself to being seen and not heard. My written schoolwork was still completed to a high standard, but when called upon in class I sounded as though I had never met a thought I wouldn’t lose in broad daylight, and while I could still largely manage the spells I had learned in my first two years, managing to work my mouth around new spells was difficult enough to bring me to tears on a regular basis. It was decided just before my sixteenth birthday that I wouldn’t be returning to school. (Coincidentally, this was the same week that D. lost his arm in a freak Exploding Snap accident, which saw even Papa concede to banning the game for us all.)

Welcome to Charming

E. Lovegood

Fernando 1889	Concordia’s second intended, with whom she was almost certainly in love, was bitten by a snake and perished before he could receive medical treatment.
A Perpetual Loser 1890	My brother lost a race. He loses every race, every bet, every coin toss, every hand of cards. He could be in a footrace against a legless dog and still find a way to come in last. Unfortunately, this particular race was of the magic carpet variety, and “losing” meant “falling to his near death”. We were all beside ourselves for weeks until he was out of harm’s way, and from that day, B. lost some of the sparkle to his smiles.
Mama 1891	Cholera. I wish not to speak of it.
Theodore 1891	Also cholera. Once again, Concordia’s intended. I don’t think she particularly liked this one, at least, but by now she was beginning to worry that she was “too old”—at a mere four and twenty! Then again, all the mourning could not have been healthy for her prospects.
Concordia 1893	Just before Christmas, our dear sister finally married. I must confess, given his… advanced years, I rather expected him to die as the others all did, but she seems happy enough. On her honeymoon, she was the second of us—of all five of us!—to visit our parents’ homeland, and whilst she was visiting, our mother’s sister was reminded of our existence. I think it was that visit that set things in motion.