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 Meadowes, Pearl, Completed
Pearl Meadowes
Posted: Mar 19 2012, 06:41 PM

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Joined: 19-March 12

Pearl Iris Meadowes

Impulsive | Perfectionist | Outspoken

Muggle-born - Gryffindor - 6th Year

Age: 16. Birthdate: May 30th, 1926.

12 1/2 inches; Ivy wood; Unicorn hair core.

Blonde shoulder length hair, caucasian skin, blue eyes, oval shaped face, 5'8, slightly larger than average bust, toned figure.

Romola Garai

As a muggle-born, Pearl isn't well liked by blood purists in the school. She has been trying since she arrived at Hogwarts to prove that even though she was born to muggles she is still a worthy witch. She studies hard and does her work like she is supposed to, getting good grades. Other students think she should have been a Ravenclaw, and are a bit jealous of her grades. She isn't a Ravenclaw because she isn't naturally wise, she has to work hard at it and is doing it more due to her competitive nature. She gets teased somewhat for being a 'nerd' and a 'mudblood'.


Pearl is a muggle-born, and tries to prove herself at Hogwarts so that people can't just assume she wasn't born to magical parents therefore she must not be a talented witch. She is a perfectionist and really pushes herself to complete tasks and complete them well. She can be impulsive, not always thinking before speaking or acting. She speaks her mind and is very opinionated. She is occasionally judgmental, but no more than the average person. She's socially awkward at times in public. Her biggest reason for being so driven to perform well at tasks is her competitive nature. She likes to be better than others. She tries not to act arrogant, but sometimes isn't always able to prevent herself from getting a big head.

Pearl Iris Meadowes was born in Liverpool to Joshua and Marjory Meadowes. She has one sister who is a year younger than her. It is rare, but not unheard of for there to be two muggle-borns in the same family. She had a normal childhood, going on little afternoon trips and Sunday drives with her family, playing around with neighborhood children, and reading popular and classic novels outside her family's home, laying in the grass.

When she was told she was a witch, her parents were of course shocked but supportive. Her younger sister was jealous, until the following year when she found out she also was accepted to Hogwarts. Pearl immediately began to read up on the magical world with books purchased in Diagon Alley. When she arrived at school she was in awe of the school, asking people questions and sharing the facts she learned from studying. Her peers got tired of her quickly.

She impressed her professors ever since first year and has held herself to very high standards. Like other muggle-borns she's been called a mudblood and other such hurtful things, but she tries to let it roll off her back. She throws herself into doing her best academically so she can feel better about herself.

She hasn't had any relationships, and she hasn't had any prospects. It doesn't matter to her much. She thinks relationships would only distract her, even though secretly she does wonder what it is like.

Now it's her sixth year and not much has changed. She's still working on her academics, hoping to get a good job at the Ministry of Magic. Her parents think she needs to be more social, so this year that's her challenge. She wants to make more friends and maybe even find some nice boy interested in her. But will that happen as things become more and more stressful in the wizarding world and inside the walls of Hogwarts Castle?

AGE: 19
GENDER: Female.
OOC House: Hufflepuff. Second choice would be Slytherin but that looks full. My first is Hufflepuff though. Proud Badger. =]
LIMITS: No limits that I can think of, but if I at some point consider something to be too much for me, I'll speak up or something.
HOW DID YOU FIND US: Advertisement on another site.



The stubbornly sticky substance on the table top finally managed to come off. However, I had to resort to using magic, and the spell I used may have also taken off some of the finish on the table. No matter. Not like the drunkards who would later sit there would even notice if it had been cleaned or not. I wiped at my forehead with the back of my thin, bony wrist.

Vanya used to joke with me when I would sit on his lap that I was like a skeleton, due to my petite frame. My bony behind would wind up digging into his thighs, but he did not mind. It was tough to think about being with him and having the thoughts be past tense. His dog tag still hung safely beside my own around my neck, clinking together every time I moved, giving me a constant reminder of what a huge hole losing him had caused in my heart.

I swung the disgusting, splotchy rag over my shoulder, and turned, walking back to behind the bar. Sitting on one of the stools was a patron I'd never see before. She was impeccably dressed, wearing all black, as I did usually as well. I had been glancing at her only for a moment until she looked up to meet my eyes. She smiled, taking off her sunglasses to reveal brown, almond shaped eyes that were exotic looking. They made mine, which were just a swampy green and averagely shaped, pale in comparison.

She smiled at me, but I didn't return it, due to being too tired and peeved from work. "Da, certainly." I looked down the bar and noticed the bartender wasn't standing there. He probably went out back for a smoke again. He was like a human chimney, I swear. I grabbed a clean shot glass, and picked up a vodka bottle from the shelf. The customer hadn't told me what she wanted, but vodka was the best alcohol, of course, so I went with that. I poured the vodka into the shot glass like an expert, having poured many drinks back home. In the apartment I had shared with Vanya, there had never been a shortage of vodka.

"Here. You drink vodka." I put the glass down in front of her, and then grabbed the bottle by the neck, holding it up and looking at it. "Is not like vodka I am used to. This brand is from France." I rolled my eyes. Nobody knew better than the Russians when it came to vodka. "But it will do, da?" I asked, not really caring. I wasn't a bar tender, so if she had a problem, she could take it up with him when he got back.

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