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Jajajaja Nina

CAITLIN BEAUMONT || PUREBLOOD || AGE: 17 || STUDENT || UNDECIDED || FORMER GRYFFINDOR || DAUGHTER OF DEVERAUX AND OPHELIA BEAUMONT || FC: NINA DOBREV || TAKEN

”People are good or half good or a quarter good, and it changes all the time- but even on the best day nobody’s perfect.”

Special Titles/Ranks: Gryffindor Prefect

BIOGRAPHY

Although her parents marriage was arranged with a hate that grew every day between the pair, the house was peaceful for a time. Separated by wings of the manor, Caitlin acted as the messenger the second she was old enough to walk. Perching at one end, she entertained a parent before the other called. 

It wasn’t until she was older that the question of school was raised, the relative peace that had once blanketed the manor dissipating into a wave of arguments. Where she would attend school flurried onto topics such as being allowed to play quidditch and finally how she had been raised improperly. Each harsh word spat between the couple caused her to wince, for she feared the hate they expressed toward one another was caused because of her, rather then their unhappy marriage.  In order to ease some of the tension, Caitlin bent over backwards to become the neutral ground; the ideal daughter that would please them both. 

Caitlin spent many hours in her parents presence in the years approaching her schooling, and through that she learned the difference between the two. While both were strict with their studies, her father was more lenient, allowing her time on her own once she’d accomplished what he’d required for the week. On the other hand, her mother was nit picky, always finding a flaw in Caitlin’s characteristic and picking at them until she drove herself nearly mad trying to fix everything her mother perceived as a mistake. 

It was only last year that everything in her life changed in an instant. A class was interrupted, and she used the time to catch up on the notes her Professor had written on the board. It was only when she was summoned to the Headmasters office that her nerves set in, mind racing with the possibilities she’d fearfully taken a seat. 

When the words finally spilled from the headmasters lips, her heart stopped. She will never be able to recite exactly what Dumbledore said, but she knows the over view. Her parents had been found dead. It looked like foul play and they suspected Death Eaters. She had remained rooted to her seat, just long enough for a friend to come escort her back to the common room. Perhaps it was sick of her, but though she was saddened, she also felt a rush of relief.

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Bowery Ballroom, NYC.  16.11.2005.