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veritas-roleplay · 6 years

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ABIGAIL BONES ( nee NORTON ) ♦︎ HUFFLEPUFF ALUMNA ♦︎ NEUTRAL ♦︎ FC: NATASHA LIU BORDIZZO ♦︎ TAKEN

B I O G R A P H Y :

As a small child, Abigail thought she was a princess, and her mother a beautiful queen, all part of the happily ever after at the end of a fairytale. But even though they got along quite well, the match between Claudia Ellery-Norton, passionate, gregarious, and a touch whimsical, and Martin Norton, determined, reserved, and nothing if not level-headed, was a loveless one. Beatrice Norton, who lived with her son and his family, had arranged the match hoping the rising star would lend a touch of glamour to the Norton name, and thus give them a leg up in social circles, but was never particularly attached to her daughter-in-law. So when Claudia died, while she was publicly mourned to the pinnacle of politeness that the high society (which the Nortons were almost a part of) demanded, no one grieved her but her 6 year old daughter. This led Abigail to the mistaken but inevitable conclusion that she felt all things more deeply than normal people, and she was best just to keep it all to herself.

After Claudia’s death, Beatrice took over as Abigail’s mother-figure and began shaping her into the society wife Beatrice had no doubt she would one day be. As far as Beatrice was concerned Abigail showed every sign of being a polite, practical, and proper Norton to her core, and this combined with the beauty, inherited from Claudia, that Abigail was already starting to show, would be the family’s ticket to breaking into Wizarding Society once and for all. The only thing that could stop Beatrice’s plan was the only secret Claudia had ever kept from her family, Abigail had yet to show any signs of magic. Claudia’s solution to this problem and been to let it be, confident that Abigail would come into her magic at her own time in her own way. Beatrice’s solution was considerably more active, setting traps and tricks hoping to bully Abigail’s magic to the surface. When Abigail jumped off the roof, Martin finally put his foot down, banning all attempts to spark his daughter’s magic. He said, if she was a squib, she was a squib, and there was no changing it. Martin was wrong on one count, though, because Abigail wasn’t a squib, and the letter that proved it arrived promptly on her 11th birthday.

For most of her early years, just getting a Hogwarts letter had seemed like almost too much to hope for to Abigail, and after she got it, all that mattered was that she be sorted into Ravenclaw, like her mother. Instead, the hat put her in Hufflepuff, hoping that being with other children who had just as much potential for kindness and compassion as she did would help Abigail grow into the good hearted person she could be. It didn’t work. If anything, the plan backfired, as Abigail’s anger led to her resolve to be the least Hufflepuff student to ever actually be in Hufflepuff. She would not be nice, she would not be helpful, she would not be loyal to any high-minded Hufflepuff ideals. Instead, Abigail aligned herself with the sort of upper class Slytherins she knew her grandmother would approve of, and poured all of her considerable drive into being the kind of girl that her schoolfellows would admire, or at least fear. For a while, everything worked out for Abigail. She performed, if not spectacularly, then well in her classes. She had, if not close friends, then strong allies. She was, if not strictly in love with her boyfriend, then prepared to enter a partnership with him when the time came. Best of all, most days she was able to dismiss the ache of wanting more as simply missing her mother and summarily ignore it.

Things started to change on Abigail’s 17th birthday, when she came into her inheritance. Claudia’s death had been unexpected, but she’d still had a will, largely perfunctury, but the contents of her writing desk were left to Abigail and, per Martin’s decision, laid aside until she came of age. The bulky parcel arrived promptly in the middle of breakfast, and, once she realized what exactly it was, Abigail spent the rest of the morning sorting through it. Much of it was ultimately classified as trash, the natural detritus of a woman in the midst of her life, but Abigail handled every broken quill, every scrap of a crossed out, almost note with the utmost reverence. Once she was done, Abigail was left with a collection of journals, the latest one barely a quarter full, stationary she remembered watching her mother write thank you notes on as a child, and a bundle of letters, tied with a girlish ribbon and worn in ways that spoke of frequent rereads. Initially, Abigail thought they were love letters from her father, the naive assumption of a girl who, despite her own protests, still desperately wanted to believe in fairytales. But as the months passed and Abigail read and reread the letters it became impossible to deny that this was not the case.

Every girl must face a moment when she realizes, irrevocably, that her mother is a flesh and blood woman, human and fallible, with a life and thoughts and dreams that have nothing to do with them. Claudia’s death postponed this moment for Abigail, but the reality came crashing in as Abigail worked her way through the letters, which were from the three years prior to Claudia and Martin’s wedding, and her mother’s journals, which spanned the entirety of the Nortons’ marriage. The understanding that Claudia had been in love with someone else before she married Martin and, if her journals were any indication, continued to love him long after she wed another man, shook Abigail to her core. Worse still was the pervasive sadness in Claudia’s journals that only lifted when she wrote about Abigail, and the unavoidable theme of deep regret and dissatisfaction with her marriage. Claudia had entered an arranged marriage for the good of her family, something Abigail had been trained to do by her grandmother from a young age, and regretted it. Abigail became determined not to make the same mistake.

She set her sights on love, but what she found instead was a volatile relationship equally full of fights as it was good times. She thought she was doing what her mother would have wanted her to do, following her heart, but really, she was throwing herself head first into the hands of a man who made her heart beat faster out of fear as much as any other reason. She planned to run away with him, to elope right after she graduated, and was one again saved from a life she didn’t truly want by the arrival of a package, smaller this time, from the executor of her mother’s will. It contained only a letter, one that had been separated from the rest of the contents of Claudia’s desk and lost for a time. It was sealed but unaddressed and yet written on stationary that was unmistakably Claudia’s, a last letter to the man she’d loved as a girl, written around the time Abigail was 5. The contents of the letter, which was still a love letter despite the time and distance that had separated Claudia and her mystery man, was enough to give Abigail pause, and the fight resulting from her newfound reluctance to elope was enough to drive her to sever ties completely.

Months went by and Abigail drifted, unsure of what to do with herself or even who to be, and unwilling to go to anyone in her family for guidance. She might have drifted straight into a sensible, arranged marriage of Beatrice’s design were it not for Martin who, despite being a distant and uninvolved father overall, did in fact care about his daughter’s well being and, sensing that something was wrong, though he couldn’t tell what, made tentative overtures to bring Abigail into the family business. It didn’t take long to suss out that the design and manufacturing of custom racing brooms for NQL teams was not Abigail’s cup of tea, but working toward something again, and most importantly something that had nothing to do with any kind of marriage, sparked something in Abigail and she remembered a time, long ago, when she’d wanted to be a mediwitch. With nothing better to do and her father’s support, Abigail set off for London to achieve her childhood dream, and hopefully find herself along the way.

D E T A I L S :

☛ CANON INFORMATION : [ mother of Susan Bones ]

☛ AFFILIATION : neutral

☛ BLOOD STATUS : halfblood

☛ AGE : 21

☛ FORMER HOUSE : Hufflepuff

☛ TRAITS :

Positives : confident / unapologetic / curious

Negatives : uncreative / aloof / defensive

☛ OCCUPATION : Mediwitch-in-training

C O N N E C T I O N S :

AMELIA BONES, GWENOG JONES, MERWYN FINWICK : close friends

CHARLES BONES : husband, teases

EVAN ROSIER : former flame, distant

GRETA CATCHLOVE, BREVIS BIRCH, WILDA GRIFFITHS : defensive around

OTTO BAGMAN : used to tutor her, finds amusing

LUDO BAGMAN, FENRIR GREYBACK, CORNELIUS FUDGE : thinks they’re arrogant

#abigail norton #susan bones #marauders rp #hp roleplay #hp rp #harry potter rp #harry potter roleplay #marauders roleplay #ac #utp #f #h #n #taken #takenf #takenh #takenn #natasha liu bordizzo #abigail bones

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