AVERY, ISADORA CHASITY

isadora chasity avery



what a beautiful face
i have found in this place that is circling all round the sun

ISADORA CHASITY AVERY ▪ TWENTY ▪ MINISTRY ▪ ACCIDENTAL MAGIC REVERSAL SQUAD ▪ ANNE VYALITSYNA

�I PRONOUCE YOU HUSBAND AND WIFE. YOU MAY NOW KISS THE BRIDE.�
�AND, PRESENTING MR. AND MRS. AVERY.�

�What is love? Is it an entitlement, or perhaps an obligation? Now, I�ve had the two most horrific role models on the entire subject, so it�s no doubt that I�ve ended up where I happen to be today. The world may seem full of joy and happiness, but it�s simply a show to mask the true darkness that lurks around the corner. Am I a cynic? You can be the judge of such after I�ve discussed the many reasons for why I happen to be whom I am today. The story of my life starts like most others, beginning with a boy and a girl. Moses Avery and Katarina Macnair. Now, unlike most romances, this one was forced. It isn�t all that up surd when both parents are avid pureblood supremacies. Betrothals are as common as going through puberty. When you�ve been chosen for another, there�s little getting out of it. Not that either of them would have tried, after all, the idea of living with the disappointment that would accompany them would have been too hard to bear. I knew from the age of five how important pleasing my grandparents was to my father. He basically kissed their feet whenever they were in the same room. It was quite a sight really. Just imagine a overly arrogant man nearly wetting himself when they developed the slightest frown. My mother was nothing more than every other materialistic pureblood daughter. Not to mention, marrying into the Avery family was something her parents could have only hoped for. While they knew basically from the moment they were born that they were destined for one another, they spent little time �getting to know one another�. Sure, they were forced into certain conversation at lavish parties, and were fellow housemates throughout the seven years at Hogwarts, yet there was no spark. They foolishly believed that perhaps time would bring out something that hadn�t originally been there, that they would grow to love one another. The only thing they grew to do was resent one another, if anything.

While I only know bits and pieces of my parents past, I�ve learnt enough to piece together the missing parts. After all, they truly were two of the most simple people on the surface. While they attempted to resemble something more than they were, they hardly were able to fool their children. The smiles and affection ended the moment the doors were closed. I figured having Elijah was an attempt to save their horrible failing marriage. They hardly went through a �honeymoon� phase, unless you count their trip across Europe that mommy and daddy paid for. After all, they hardly could stand one another long enough to even realize the fact that they were stuck with the other for eternity, or until one went off the deep end. Katarina�s pregnancy with Elijah went relatively smoothly, considering the amount of help she had. No one wanted anything to happen to what could very well be the savior for both Moses and Katarina. Not that the public had any idea that such things were going on behind closed doors, or that they were anything besides the wonderful couple they claimed to be. If anything, the two were brilliant liars when it came to covering up the many cracks that were slowly being created in their very foundation. It was possibly the one sole thing they worked on together, besides having producing a few offspring here and there. Now, back to the first offspring, the heir to the family fortune, the light of their dimming life. My eldest brother came along, and while it perhaps lightened the mood a small time, it hardly changed their entire relationship. Really, who fooled themselves to believe that a child could save something that was never true? How was it even possible to improve something that was already far too broken to fix? Before reality could possibly set in, my father and mother produced yet another son, when Elijah was but a year old. Amadeus Avery. My mother had been hoping and praying for a daughter, and yet I would not come for another five years. During that time, they had given up their idiotic idea that anyone or anything could possibly bring happiness to their relationship.�

�MRS. AVERY, I DO BELIEVE YOU ARE WITH CHILD.�
�I�M... PREGNANT.�
�YES, MY LADY.�
�.... OH�

�My parents may claim otherwise, but I assume I was a mistake. After all, the age between my brothers and myself happens to be an entire five years. Their entire life was finally routine. They grew to accept the fact that they would never have any passionate love that people wrote about in story books. Katarina had her place, and Moses had his. My mother�s responsibilities were limited, mostly only being required to stay out of Moses way. Even the child care was relatively hands free, thanks to the many caretakers they employed. Moses focused solely on his job, basically throwing himself into workaholic mode. If it wasn�t his long hours, it was his fine taste of other woman that kept him company. However, the news of my presence in her womb came as both a surprise, and quite a nice wrench in the pace they were travelling at. The nine months leading up to my birth were long and gruelling for my mother. While her first two pregnancies had rarely any problems, it seemed she hit a road block with me every few months. She hardly got up from clinging to the toilet, long enough to stop the slamming pains that came from my constant movement. It didn�t help that she began to resemble that of a beluga whale. While the doctors claimed it was all water absorption, which would surely go away once she was rid of me, she nearly went insane. There were moments that she very well considered ending the agony right then and there. The pain didn�t end once the contraptions began on Christmas Eve. They had planned on leaving for Paris only hours after the first contraption happened, my arrival not schedule for an entire month. However, I was stubborn ever when in the womb, my parents enjoy recalling. I sent my mother into an intense fourteen hour delivery, and no matter the medication they gave her, I seemed to be resistant. Finally, with one last horrific scream on her part, I opened my eyes into the world that I was to be forced to grow up in. Her screams were joined with mine, as the doctor that delivered me softly said �You have a new baby girl.� Surprisingly, once all the blood and gore was wiped off clean, they handed me to my father first. My mother has described the look as �pure love�, but I must admit that I�m doubtful of such. If it�s the truth, it was the first and last time he did so.

Now, I�m not sure if my brothers were to pleased to have another addition to the family. It didn�t help that I wasn�t necessarily their most ideal play partner, what with being a girl and all. It wasn�t rare that I spent a good deal of my childhood feeling like the outsider with the two of them. They were so close in age, and happened to be the same gender. Their relationship with one another came a lot more naturally than any one that could possible come of ours. It wasn�t as though I had many high expectations, what with the things I saw even at my age. My parents were rarely around to begin with. My father spent hours on end doing whatever his occupation needed of him. The time that he was around was always tense and awkward. It was as though you should fall back into an easy conversation with ease, considering he was your father. However, nothing with the man came easy. He was continually on watch, even without being there half the time. I almost assume that half the girls that watched us kids were his personal spies, or simply rats. His punishment was never light. No, you weren�t force to shovel the snow off the sidewalk when it fell. It was always the last thing you wished for, like getting your favourite activity taken away, or a nice red mark across your cheek. Now, don�t think I resent my father for who he was, and who he happens to be. After all, he is my father, so there will always be a part of myself that loves the man, no matter how infuriating he can make me. I�ve come to accept him for his faults. He does the very best he can, even if it�s hardly decent at all. He�s simply a sad pathetic man in some aspects of his life, especially when it comes to his family. I truly don�t think he was prepared to be a father, nor has he ever really been one. He�s been a dictator, rule enforcer, yes, but father, no. What father would truly bring their mistress to a family dinner, pretending they were simply business partners? If business partners flirting with each other the entire time, then by all means.

Now, my mother growing up was not a saint either. Sure, she may have raised her voice less at us kids, and never dared bring home anyone that she was fucking. However, she was hardly there. She was distant from the first memory that I have. Never trying very hard to become involved with anything, if it happened to be her children, or even picking up a simple book and reading. It seemed that her eyes simply were glazed over, and the glow she perhaps once had no longer existed. It wouldn�t have taken a brain surgeon to realize that she was using and abusing both alcohol and pills. I once snuck into her bathroom, and read what medication she was continually taking. While I don�t remember the exact name of the prescription, I clearly remember it stated �To help ease pain, such as back pain or joint pain.� I was foolish enough to get the courage to ask my mother if she happened to be hurting. It seemed to catch her off guard, though at the time I hadn�t been old enough to understand. She simply chuckled, patted me on the head, and told me to run off and play. Her lack of involvement in my life was nearly as bad, if not worse, than my father�s need to control my life. Now, I hardly blame her. The lack of life was due to depression, and her pills and wine were one of the many ways she was attempting to keep the demons at bay. To her, it was better to be void of any real emotion, than to be a slobbering mess in front of children she was suppose to be strong for. Looking back, I wish I had picked up on such. Sure, I had little means to do so. After all, I was only a seven year old children when she was in her darkest moments. And what could I have truly done? I couldn�t bring her love the way a soul mate could. Yet, it was in my childhood that love changed for me. How could love exist if people ended up the way my parents had? I believe in lust. It�s evident in most people�s lives. Love, however, is nothing but a fairy tale made up for people to reach for something that doesn�t truly exist. Yet, it was my tenth birthday that truly changed me. To this day, I don�t know how she passed on. They told me little of the events leading up to the matter. All I know is she was slowly slipping from my grasp. The small signs of life were no longer there for weeks, and then she was gone, forever. I didn�t attend my mother�s funeral. Most look poorly at me for such, but I couldn�t bring myself to get out of the car my family sat in on the way to the burial site. Do you want to know another disturbing thing? I never shed one whole tear. Not one.�

�DEAR ISADORA AVERY... YOU HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED TO HOGWARTS : SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY... WE LOOK FORWARD TO HAVING YOU.�

�The year the followed my mother�s death, and my acceptance letter to Hogwrats passed in a daze. I rarely remembered anything from that time period. I did little that would be worth retelling. However, certain things had changed during that time. I was no longer as naive as I had been. There were no such things as happy endings, and no matter how much my father continued to preach, I rarely listened. I cared less and less about what he happened to think. His approval meant little, and his punishment would never be as bad as a child losing a mother, especially a mother she had never been allowed to get to know. The pureblood lifestyle no longer excited me. It was filled with mindless witches and wizards that cared little about anyone other than themselves. There was little doubt that a few of my morals and values had changed, and yet I couldn�t quite shake the few things my parents had worked so hard to instil in me. I can assure you, that neither of those things involved love or happiness, either. After having watched both my parents go and return from Hogwarts, I was somewhat envious of them. Maybe it had quite a large part to do with the fact that Moses couldn�t reach them during their school year, unless he attempted to with a letter. Those, however, only did so much. They were easily enough to destroy with the slightest bit of magic or fire. Can you tell I�ve had plenty of practice? When it came to the day I was to start my own journey to Hogwarts, I was thrilled. It was no surprise that my father couldn�t accompany me to the train, though it mattered little. After all, he would only be biting my ear off until the minute the train was completely out of sight. Both Elijah and Amadeus brought me to the train, though abandoned me shortly after. I won�t deny the fear that soon sprouted from the lack of familiar bodies nearby. Sure, there were kids that I had met from various pureblood social gatherings, but hardly often enough to get up the courage to go sit with anyone. The sorting ceremony was probably about as nerve wracking as the minute I stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. My name was called second, right after Corbin Ackerley. It was bad enough that the entire school was watching, but I had to basically go up first. While my father hadn�t forgotten to discuss it was important to keep the family house �Slytherin�, I wasn�t exactly attempting to bribe the sorting hat to place me in my father�s desired house. The whole situation was stressful enough. Yet, the old man got his wish, even when he miles away.

My years at Hogwarts flew by. It was much like a breath of fresh air. My family had grown up in a secluded area on the outskirts of London, so the only socializing was at lavish parties, when people were meant to be on their best behaviour. It was my first glimpse of what freedom could entitle you. My past no longer mattered. It was my future that took precedent. I surely gained a reputation at Hogwarts for using my newfound �Freedom� to its most stretched advantage. When you get a small taste of what life could be like, who really wishes to go back? Not to mention, my father could no longer leave a mark on my cheek, only during the holidays. I was rebellious, to say the very least. Don�t get me wrong, I was hardly careless. While people may wish to assume otherwise, I am far more intellectual than people may give me credit for. I simply loath authority figures, and have a constant need to break any rule set forth by something deeming they are fully superior to me. You could say I tend to push the limits of things, challenging people when they probably would prefer to keep to the safe and secure way of thinking. My professors weren�t very impressed with me, and yet I did overly well in their classes. Some may say I had a photographic memory, one that even when I wasn�t listening to the professor (which was a constant occurrence), I could simply read a paragraph and pull it out when needed. I didn�t make a habit of exceeding with brilliant colors in school, it never being a passion of mine. Sure, I enjoyed learning new things, however, only when they were things I had interest in. If they weren�t, I had little reason to bore myself with such facts. While I may have been known for not necessarily following the rules, I could very well hold up the end of a conversation. Some even described me as �witty and insightful�. I simply was anything but traditional. My years at Hogwarts came and went far too quickly, however. I was hardly prepared to grow up. I would have much preferred to stay in the situation I had created, with very little responsibility besides turning up for classes, and actually handing in the homework my professors requested. Yet, everyone has to grow up sometime, whether they want it or not.�

�I WILL NOT HAVE YOU LEAVE.�
�YOU CAN�T KEEP ME, FATHER.�
�AND WHO DO YOU SUPPOSE WILL PAY YOUR RENT?�
�I WILL. NOW GET OUT OF MY BLOODY WAY.�

�I think my father expected me to live with him for quite some time. He even had the nerve to suggest a betrothal to some random pure blooded boy that I had never had any association with. I simply laughed in his face, and replied �So I can end up like you and my mother?�. I believe he got the picture, because he never mentioned it again. However, he put up quite a fight about my decision to move out only a few months after I was finished Hogwarts. In the end, he took away my privilege at any money from him. However, I was determined to make something of a life, if I had to grow up in certain ways. It wasn�t so horrible that I gave up the fortune I had grown up on. After all, I had attempted to withdraw myself from any materialistic tendency that my parents happened to have, fearing they�d rub off on me. The little money I had inherited from my mother lasted the first few months of my new found adulthood, yet I knew I couldn�t go on for very much longer. A job was the only other option. I landed a job at the Ministry of Magic, as a team member on the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad. The job itself was fine, though my issue with authority still lingered. It didn�t help that now I had to report to a boss, not simply a professor. The boss had the ability to throw me out on my ass, whether I was wishing it or not. While there�s days he�s not impressed with me, I�m doing surprisingly well. However, my newfound adulthood hardly consists solely of work. A few months after moving, I ran into someone that I had known vaguely from school. Scorpius Malfoy. The attraction was undeniable, and without being aware of it, we began to see one another. While I�m not really one to indulge in the time I spent as Scorpius Malfoy�s whatever, I won�t deny the fact that there was something there. However, when I realized that perhaps it was going somewhere I didn�t truly believe in, nor would will myself to go, I withdrew from him. I ended things rashly and without explanation. However, it was for the best. I didn�t allow myself the change to get hurt, or end up realizing that the feelings were never truly mutual. He is out of sight, and out of mind. Right?... And so, that�s my life. Sure, there�s far more to come. After all, I�m only twenty years old.

but for now we are young
let us lay in the sun and count every beautiful thing we see

ALIAS : KALLY.
AGE : TWENTY
TIME ZONE : MOUNTAIN TIME
MEMBER TITLE : WATCH ME FALL ;;
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE :

I, KALLY, SOLEMNLY SWEAR THAT I HAVE READ THE RULES OF THIS SITE AND WILL UPHOLD THEM TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY. I AM JOINING THIS SITE BECAUSE I LOVE HARRY POTTER, AND I LOVE WRITING. I WILL BE AN ACTIVE MEMBER AND NOT SIT AROUND LIKE A BUMP ON THE LOG. I ALSO REALIZE THAT THIS IS NOT MY ACTUAL SIGNATURE, AND THEREFORE THIS DOCUMENT IS IN NO WAY LEGALLY BINDING. OH WELL.

ACCEPTED!

welcome to the board!