(no subject)
Well, now, I wasn't going to be allowed to come, but my friends are dying left and right, so of course I have to help put a stop to that. (Hi mates! *hugs for the ones who aren't dead, and maybe for the ones who are, unless they have problems with personal space*)
Anyhow, my name's Hestia Jones, a name you'd recognise from Harry Potter only if you're a rabid fangirl like my typist. I was given all of two sentences' spotlight: Lupin introducing me to Harry, with Harry observing I have black hair and rosy cheeks (like him, in fact), and then an observation that I was laughing at a potato peeler in his aunt's kitchen. (The blade, it spins! Silly thing, a blade that turns away from its cutting.) Anyhow, point is I'm not there much. How are the mighty fallen!
You don't mind if I take a minute to brag, do you? I mean, two lines in an 800 page book and I finally get the spotlight? Oh good! You see, I'm not only Hestia Jones, I'm Richard Henry Lee's great-great-great-great granddaughter. It's my claim to fame since I can't brag about being in the Order of the Phoenix. You've heard of Lee, right? The Virginia patriarch? First family of Virginia? Congressman who officially put independence on the table? (So what if I'm British? I have a right to be proud.) He was all that, and a wizard. One of the few stronghold clans left after the chaos Salem caused for actual witches (and wizards) in America, and still as pure as you can get under those circumstances! Of course, since I'm here, in Britain, obviously the family went by the wayside. But...still. My claim to fame. *grins*
Other than the Order of the Phoenix which I can't talk about.
Oh, and I suppose it's not just anyone who makes it through St Mungo's direct-entry healer certification. *beams* Something new to brag about. But the typist lady says I've babbled enough, so...
Hi!
I apologise for the horrific crossover of Harry Potter and 1776 she has invoked. O.o
Anyhow, my name's Hestia Jones, a name you'd recognise from Harry Potter only if you're a rabid fangirl like my typist. I was given all of two sentences' spotlight: Lupin introducing me to Harry, with Harry observing I have black hair and rosy cheeks (like him, in fact), and then an observation that I was laughing at a potato peeler in his aunt's kitchen. (The blade, it spins! Silly thing, a blade that turns away from its cutting.) Anyhow, point is I'm not there much. How are the mighty fallen!
You don't mind if I take a minute to brag, do you? I mean, two lines in an 800 page book and I finally get the spotlight? Oh good! You see, I'm not only Hestia Jones, I'm Richard Henry Lee's great-great-great-great granddaughter. It's my claim to fame since I can't brag about being in the Order of the Phoenix. You've heard of Lee, right? The Virginia patriarch? First family of Virginia? Congressman who officially put independence on the table? (So what if I'm British? I have a right to be proud.) He was all that, and a wizard. One of the few stronghold clans left after the chaos Salem caused for actual witches (and wizards) in America, and still as pure as you can get under those circumstances! Of course, since I'm here, in Britain, obviously the family went by the wayside. But...still. My claim to fame. *grins*
Other than the Order of the Phoenix which I can't talk about.
Oh, and I suppose it's not just anyone who makes it through St Mungo's direct-entry healer certification. *beams* Something new to brag about. But the typist lady says I've babbled enough, so...
Hi!
I apologise for the horrific crossover of Harry Potter and 1776 she has invoked. O.o