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Lorelai Wik
Status:
Pure-blood
Nationality:
Scottish
Residence:
Plockton, Scotland
Function:
First year, Hufflepuff
Wand:
29,4 cm mayhaw wood and unicorn hair
Lorelai Wik has had a quiet sheltered life, and it shows. Her Grandmother raised her and her two brothers on a small homestead in a Scottish village. The most exciting things in her days were catching frogs down the creek, and telling stories to the menagerie of animals that surrounded her. Peaceful days. No need to panic. Magic was sprinkled throughout here and there, but her Grandmother was wary of using too much to make one lazy, so most was done by hand. Lorelai's worst problems were helping chase the pigs out of the garden when they escaped for the umpteenth time, and the frequent disputes with her elder brother Rolen on the rules of chicken racing and then promptly ignoring all her own rules to give her chicken a head start.

It was on one of the very days when the pigs charged their fence for the tender vegetables on the other side, that Lorelai's magic appeared. She was only four at the time, far too young to shift the pigs, but old enough to stamp her little feet at them and tell them off. Her Grandmother had gone into town and left the two eldest children at home -- what could happen in such a tiny town for only a few minutes while she was gone? Lorelai's Grandmother came back to the barnyard animals in the sky. It had started with the pigs, magic blowing around the girl and pulling them up into the air with a feat of strength she'd never be able to do on her own. Lorelai watched wide-eyed as they squealed and tried to pull themselves back to earth to no avail. Next was the chickens, who were actually quite happy with the new flying arrangement. Dusks, Geese, Goats, a mule, and last but not least, the family cow and her calf all bobbed up into the air. Lorelai giggled and danced around underneath them when her Grandmother appeared to set things right again. "We must be careful, Lorelai," her Grandmother told her later that night "We must hold back our magic."

"But why?" The girl asked.

"People can get hurt...you'll know when you're older. For now, just try not to do it anymore." Her Grandmother kissed her forehead and tucked her into bed. Lorelai nodded in obedience, but it wouldn't stop her trying magic every time she had a quiet chance to herself through the following years.

The three-hundred-odd villagers would describe her as a kind girl. Warm, happy to give a hand. Always with a smile on her face. Perfectly fitting in place with day to day life.

Her brothers would describe her as selfish, complainer if she didn't get her way, and a bossy-boots. Despite all of that, they love her for her witty remarks, for looking after them, and being the motherly figure when her Grandmother was busy. They would never say that, though!

Her Grandmother now. Her Grandmother was the one who Lorelai would share her secret thoughts, concerns, and worries with. It is her Grandmother who was most worried about Lorelai heading off to Hogwarts, for she was the one who knew how easily Lorelai could feel overcome. How many things properly frightened her and turned her stomach. She knows how eager Lorelai is to please others, and quite aware of the trouble it could get the young girl in. Despite her numerous fears and anxieties, Lorelai accepted the fact that going to Hogwarts would fill her fascination with magic that her Grandmother used and allowed so rarely. She determined in herself to make the best of it.

As far as looks go, Lorelai could be described as gangly. She's slightly tall for her age and topped with a mass of red tangled hair which looks like it's never even heard of the word 'brush'. The joys of acne have started to fill in the spaces around her freckles. Her blue eyes are usually happy ones (mostly truthfully, but sometimes simply as a mask to hide her nerves behind), and she's well known for her goofy lopsided grins.