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7fb7b63f2266cf8 (She/Her) is a pure-blood witch. She wields a member of the unsorted masses of Hogwarts students just off the train eagerly crowding around the Sorting Hat.

About Me

She was raised to be a perfect, poised, presentable pure-blood girl.
Eleanor didn't want to be typical.
~*~
"Eleanor, what are you doing?"
"You know I hate that name, Mother."
"I don't care. I'll ask once more.
What are you doing?"
"I'm leaving. Isn't it obvious?"
~*~
The only light within the room came from the flickering blue fire, casting an aqua glow across the nearly deserted room. Nearly, because a lone girl is still perched on the stone windowsill, gazing absently out at the grounds. It has been a long day- the first official day of fourth year, in fact- but Ellie finds herself once again sleepless. Insomnia, such an annoying presence on her mind, taunting the girl with its superiority. Ruffling her auburn lock with a yawn, Ellie casts her hazel eyes across at the fire, watching it dance with little interest or pleasure. The first day of term, and already the girl is left without a place to stay over the holidays. Plenty of people are fond of Eleanor- she's a perfectly pleasant girl most of the time- but none were able to gain the girl's trust. So she continues to sit, bathed in the faint glow of the moon and the azure shadows of the fire. She sits, and she thinks, and she watches, waiting for something and nothing all at once. Anything. Everything. To an observer, she would be a statue with purple hair, disturbing all with her unseeing eyes. But- to her knowledge- there /are/ no observers, at least... none that make themselves known. Ellie is alone in her little bubble of worthless contemplation. What can possibly be gained from this night-time restlessness, solitary and silent? What can be gained from beginning the endless descent into loneliness? Within Eleanor's knowledgeable yet still less-than all-knowing mind, the answer is nothing. Nothing at all.
~*~
OOC NOTE: Yes, I know I'm technically a firstyear. I'm RPing as a fourthyear, though. Owl for an RP!
I hate this bio. I'll work on it.