MICHAELS, isla grace

[ISLA GRACE MICHAELS]

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ISLA GRACE MICHAELS
"Silly me, look what I did again
I found that what I want
Is what I cannot have."


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OKAY, SO GIVE US THE BASICS !

"ER, HELLO THERE. I AM ISLA GRACE MICHAELS BUT YOU CAN JUST CALL ME ISLA. I HAVE BEEN WREAKING HAVOC FOR FIFTEEN YEARS AND I DON'T REALLY PLAN ON STOPPING SOON. I GRACED THIS WORLD WITH MY PRESENCE ON JULY 20th, 1960. I BRANDISH A HOLLY, 10 1/3 inches, UNICORN HAIR WAND, I KNOW YOU ARE JEALOUS. I AM IN THE HOUSE OF RAVENCLAW, FIFTH YEAR, AND DAMN PROUD. I WAS BORN WITH PURE BLOOD, NOT THAT IT REALLY MATTERS. SO YEAH, ARE WE DONE?"

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SORRY, NOT QUITE. SO WHAT ARE AND AREN'T YOU INTO ?

"Ah, I must admit that I enjoy tea that has a bit of a fruity taste to it. I like watching Quidditch as well, and I’m prepared to debate with anyone who knocks the Holyhead Harpies. And while I am one to be composed and such, I don’t object to a bit of partying when there’s butterbeer and firewhiskey present. I like listening to music, and spending time with my friends, regardless of whether or not we’re close.

I don’t like people who are selfish; they irritate me to no end because they aren’t capable of realizing that the world does not revolve around them. And having people ask me personal questions when they have no right to is also one of my main dislikes. How hard is it to mind your own business? Over-enthusiastic people also bother me very much, because they tend to get annoying. For more trivial things, I don’t like pears, loud music, dark corners, creepy crawly things, and probably many more that I simply can’t think of at the moment."

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HOW ER... INTERESTING. EVER LOOKED INTO THE MIRROR OF ERISED ?

"A girl who is as mature and composed (ha) as I am should have absolutely no problem with deciding what she wants to do in life. But that’s just the thing—I don’t know. My parents have no idea, of course. How disgraceful would it be for their daughter to have absolutely no ambition as to what to do with her life? Ridiculous idea, isn’t it? That’s why I haven’t told them. Only Sinead knows, and we spent the summer researching occupations in the wizarding world and making up huge lists. I have to say, at the moment, the ones I’m thinking over are Auror and perhaps even something in the Department of International Magical Cooperation like my father. It’d be lovely to travel the world.

Putting aside the practicality of that, I think my biggest ambition is to make people I care about happy and proud of me. It’s just something words can’t describe when you know that you’ve put a smile on someone’s face. "

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WHAT MAKES YOU SHAKE IN YOUR BOOTS ?

"Merlin, I am terrified of water. I haven’t learned how to swim ever since that summer storm when Sinead and I nearly drowned. Oh, and another fear would be dying and then becoming a ghost—forever stranded, neither here nor there. How horrible must it be? I suppose yet another fear of mine is dangerous animals, those which cannot control their instincts. I’m simply not instinctively good with wild animals. I’d like to meet the wizard who is, actually! But earlier, when I mentioned water, I also mentioned a summer storm during which I nearly lost my sister. It terrifies me beyond reasonable belief to ever think of losing her. My parents dying, I can handle. I’m strong enough, because I know I’ll have to live my own life apart from them eventually. But your sibling, your sister... they’re supposed to be there for your whole life."

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EVEN YOU HAVE TO HAVE SOME GOOD QUALITIES, RIGHT ?

"It may sound conceited, but frankly, I don’t care. I’m charismatic—I know how to talk to people, how to get them to like me, and how to get what I want. It sounds very slimy, but I assure you, I do not use it for fulfilling ill intentions. I tend to have a lot of people around me as a result of that, though I could probably count on one hand the ones I trust out of that crowd. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with using my wit and humour to attract people to me. Another strength I value very much is my ability to focus and my determination along with that. When I want something, I put my efforts into achieving that which I am seeking. I think the reason that I was not placed in Slytherin was that despite my ambition and drive, I find it a very ugly quality when people are willing to make their own fortune out of the misfortunes of others. I suppose my intelligence, both in terms of education and social situations, is a strength of mine. Being a Ravenclaw, obviously means that I have to be intelligent in terms of education. My social intelligence is very good, or very bad, depending on whom you ask. I refuse to do things unto others which would disgrace my family, but I can be very underhanded if need be. But behind all of that coldness, if I truly care about someone, there is very little I wouldn’t do for them. There are only a handful of people that have even seen that part of me."

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AND IT'S QUITE OBVIOUS YOU HAVE YOUR BAD, HUH ?

"Weaknesses, you say? I happen to have a lot of those. One of my greatest weaknesses, I think, is my inability to put more than a grain of my trust in people’s hands. It takes time for me to trust people, and I can’t just decide something like that on a bloody whim. It’s too hard for me. Another weakness of my personality would have to be that I’m too distant with people. It pushes people away from me a little too easily, I think. It offends them; that I know for sure, but those who stick around after I’ve stopped being distant stick around a lot longer in my life. I’m usually distant from people for a number of reasons—I’m preoccupied with studies, something’s troubling me and I don’t have a confidante, or it could be that someone has done something to hurt my feelings and I don’t consider it socially appropriate to tell them so. I’ve been told (by former friends) that I’m very passive aggressive, which to put it simply means to suggest that I never air my dirty laundry out for everyone to see. I don’t see how that’s a bad thing, to be honest. ‘Discussing problems’ among people only makes things go sour and just let people see parts of you that they shouldn’t. Another weakness of mine is surely that at times, I am conceited beyond reprimand. When I’m in my comfort zone, there is very little that fazes me. But as soon as someone drags me out of said comfort zone, I shut down and give up without even trying. "

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LET'S GET DIRTY. WHAT TURNS YOU ON ?

"Obviously, my intelligent and emotional being is more complex than that of a cardboard cut-out, so I don’t fool around with dunderheads. I despise it when a boy cannot hold up a conversation, or if he’s easily discouraged. I’m not a whore, to put it simply. Boys who are looking for one-night stands are going to be unpleasantly surprised. I’m not exactly a tease, per se, just more of a selective girl who knows what I’m worth, thanks very much. Aside from that, I like a boy who knows how to talk to a girl like myself. I’m not going to be attracted to someone who mumbles at me, for goodness’ sake. I suppose my standards are a bit higher than average, but all I’m looking for in a person of the opposite sex is that he knows the basics of hygiene and applies them and is calm, cool, and collected. Being a bloody good kisser helps as well."

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DO YOU LOVE YOUR FAMILY ?

"The subject of my family is a rather difficult one, and I rarely speak of it, regardless of who is asking. But I suppose one time wouldn’t really hurt, would it? It’s hard to know where to start with them, really—I guess I’ll start by telling you about my mother. Her name is Iseult Clara Rowett-Michaels, and she is currently forty-three years of age but claims she is younger. My mother is unemployed, and I would call her a homemaker except for the fact that she doesn’t do anything around the house. She was born to pureblood fanatical parents, and she would certainly make them proud if they could see her today because she is one of the most prejudiced and narrow-minded people I have ever met. She is over-whelming, controlling, and uses whatever chance she gets to knock people down a few notches, even if they are her daughter. I don’t speak much around her, because she’s my mother and I don’t think I can disrespect her by talking back even if her criticism makes me want to throttle her. When I was little, I think I did love her to some extent, but there’s only so much belittling and criticism someone can take.

My father, on the other hand, seems to be more tactful in his dislike of impurities, or more moderate, I’m not sure which. His family was more decent than my mother’s was since my father was sorted into Ravenclaw. Funnily enough, he began to hang around with Slytherins, which is where it all went downhill he met my mother. From what I’ve seen of my father, he’s more of a soft-spoken man, but that only makes him more intimidating. I have his eyes, but his are hard, steely, and cold. Sort of like him, I guess. He works in the Department of International Magical Cooperation so he tends to travel a lot for work and such. I think he was disappointed that he never had any sons, but I can’t help him there, can I? But then again, he could easily be avoiding my mother whenever he goes on trips abroad. Their marriage was arranged, naturally, as they were young, rich, and pure of blood—so their parents decided to force them into holy matrimony and expected them to mate. Mate they did, and as a result of that union came two daughters, one of which I’ll tell you about now.

Sinead Ophelia Michaels is the most supportive and wonderful person that I’ve ever met. Yes, and I’ve known her my entire life, so I can say that confidently. The fact that she is in Slytherin isn’t detrimental to our relationship as siblings at all, though it was weakened our friendship just a little bit. She gets along better with my mother, but I suppose that’s because she doesn’t disappoint her like I do. It’s hard to be friends with Sinead when other people are around. She doesn’t exactly go around hexing Muggleborns and such, but she does use the word ‘Mudblood’ and she is a bit prejudiced against those who aren’t purebloods. But people fail to realize that her thoughts on blood purity don’t make her who she is—there’s a whole person behind all of that, and it’s hard to convince my mates that she’s a good person underneath it all."

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WHERE YA FROM, BY THE WAY ?

"Oh, my—a question that doesn’t sound intrusive? Colour me surprised. Anyway, my father inherited a respectable manor in Shoreham-by-Sea or simply Shoreham. Generally speaking, it is located in the south east of England. The manor itself is rather impressive (or so we’ve been told), and has sprawling grounds ending near Shoreham beach, which is where I spend most of my time in the summer."

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THE DEMENTORS ARE HERE. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ?

"There was a horrible summer storm one night, a few years back. I was six or seven years old, and Sinead only a year older than me. My mother was off visiting and father, as usual, was working. So we decided to have ourselves a little adventure. We must have been the thickest kids around, because we thought it’d be a big laugh if we went in the water and just floated around while the waves crashed everywhere. I think you can tell that went very wrong, and I lost my grip on Sinead’s hand. I can still hear her screaming my name, and I screaming hers back into that horrible storm. Eventually, mother realized that we weren’t in the house, and she called my father back from work. I don’t remember anything other than landing hard on the beach and everything going black. I didn’t even know whether Sinead was alive."

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BETTER GET UP A PATRONUS. WHAT ARE YOU REMEMBERING ?

"It was my first Hogsmeade weekend, and I had heard Sinead brag about it enough times to know that it was really something. We agreed to at least spend a bit of time together, and that ended up being the best times we’ve ever had. We went to the Three Broomsticks and I had my first butterbeer. I remember there was this one bloke whose hat was beating him ‘round the ears, and Sinead and I nearly died laughing. It wasn’t just one specific occurrence that day. It was that warm, fuzzy feeling of being around people you like and having a good time."

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HI, I AM DII AND I AM 14 YEARS OLD.
I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR 4 AND I'M NOT
QUITTING ANYTIME SOON. WELL, I GUESS I NEED TO SHOW YOU I'M THE SHIT,
SO HERE IT GOES.
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Cleaning was not, despite what her mum’s home magazines said, a very glamorous chore. In fact, it made your face glisten with perspiration and it made the inside of your mouth feel like it was a desert. But it wasn’t even a satisfying chore in Grimmauld Place—at least, not to Ginny. All she ever got in return for cleaning around in this house was her mum telling her to clean another room, dirty looks from the portraits, and muttered insults from Kreacher. How thoughtful, right? Bloody ironic too, since it was Kreacher’s thirteen-year vacation that caused the house to be in such a state. Sometimes, the less cordial side of Ginny made her want to throttle Kreacher. Not that she’d say that aloud anymore, of course. Not with Hermione around, who’s sympathetic attitude to a disturbed house elf Ginny couldn’t understand for the life of her. For once, Ron seemed to be more understanding.

As her stomach gave another audible protest to her continued presence on the third floor, Ginny crouched to inspect the side of a spindly-legged table beneath the portrait that she had been dusting. At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, she straightened up and looked distractedly over her shoulder. She had barely registered the messy black hair when her head snapped back to look at him, without her permission and in protest of her poor neck. Ginny winced slightly as she rubbed the back of her neck, which was now a bit sore. She grinned at Harry, perhaps brighter than she would have for any other friend of hers. ‘Harry!’ she exclaimed, a little more than pleasantly surprised. ‘Yeah, I’m bloody starving. You try saying no to my mum though,’ she rolled her eyes, but smiled as she said this, because Harry was sure to know that Molly’s temper was a force to be reckoned with.

She was torn between scowling and smiling despite herself when Harry made the comparison between her and her mum, but decided on the latter. It was much easier on her and those around her if she was happy. Not to mention, that he wasn’t that far off with that comparison, anyways. They did sound uncannily alike when they were yelling. As Ginny stood there, rather motionless, she wondered whether she should close the space between them and give Harry a hug. After all, that’s what friends did when they hadn’t seen each other for a while. Then again, she wasn’t all too sure of how he would react to that particular gesture. It was doubtful, in her mind, that he considered her anything more than his best mate’s sister. Technically, said an annoying voice at the back of her mind, that is what you are. Her body wanted to do something that her mind thought was potentially mortifying, so all that came of the hug-that-would-have-been was a tiny movement, which ended up looking as though she was momentarily caught off-balance.

Hoping to clear the air of the awkwardness that seemed to cling to only her, Ginny stuffed her hands inside her pockets and looked at the ground. It didn’t even occur to her that this particular action was something she had seen some of her brothers do. Before long, Ginny felt compelled to look up at him and say something. She hadn’t gotten flustered around him for a bit of time, really. ‘So,’ she said with what was undoubtedly a confident and calm smile, ‘I take it that the journey over was alright?’ It was a perfectly ordinary question to ask any other perfectly ordinary person, but despite the overall ordinariness of the situation, Ginny’s insides didn’t feel perfectly ordinary at all.

^{made by VERA SAY WHA ?! of caution 2.0!}

[• BEKI]

accepted.

welcome to WYWG, dii, and let me just
tell you that i'm thoroughly impressed
with this application! your writing is
really fantastic, and it was a joy to read.
that being said, isla seems like a very in-
teresting and complex girl, and i can't
wait to see her around the site!