Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2018 17:53:28 GMT
CORA faythe LEONIDIS
** 25 – ASTRONOMY PROFESSOR -- SCOTTISH -- SINGLE **
"I am brave, I am bruised
I am who I'm meant to be, this is me"
From the moment she was born, people had always thought that there was something strange about Cora. Maybe it was her jet black hair and oddly light green eyes – a striking contrast to her blonde haired, blue eyed brothers. Perhaps it was that the doctors, though they could find no reason, could not get her to utter a sound. At first, her behaviours were chalked down to the fact that she had three very rambunctious older brothers that didn't allow her to get a word in edgeways. The common refrain was “Get her on her own and I'm sure she'll be a right chatterbox!”, but she never was. Cora spoke only when she had something important to say, and never when anyone expected her to. The term ‘selective mutism’ was bandied about for years, and Cora simply rolled her eyes every time. If people needed a term for thinking about what was being said before opening one’s mouth, she didn’t really care. As long as they left her alone.
Part of the reason that Cora was so quiet was that sometimes she was watching things unfold that were yet to happen. As a young child, she couldn’t articulate the scenes, or understand what they were – she thought them to be particularly vivid daydreams, although she couldn’t quite figure out why she would be dreaming about people she had never met. Most of these ‘dreams’ appeared to be of no consequence, and their content didn’t alarm her in the slightest. It wasn’t until she was almost seven years old that she thought to speak to her mother about one that had upset her as she had been trying to read Beedle the Bard’s stories for the umpteenth time. Of course her mother immediately knew what Cora was suffering with ‘visions’. Though there was nothing really that could be done about it, Cora was urged to keep a diary of everything that she saw – just in case it should ever become pertinent.
In her first year, the Sorting Hat deliberated for quite a while before deciding on her House. Though her face showed nothing of it aside from a slight thinning of her lips, she had debated strenuously with it until she was given her own way. Though she knew that her family would not be impressed, Cora actually smiled when the Hat shouted ‘Hufflepuff!’. Luckily, her two brothers that still attended Hogwarts were far too busy at the Slytherin table trying to throw carrots through Nearly Headless Nick’s head to notice her expression. The scowls that burned into the back of her head for the rest of the evening spoke for themselves, though. A few times through that first year, her brothers attempted to get access to Dumbledore’s office to make the Hat reconsider, but you can imagine just how well that went. After the customary Howler, Cora’s parents seemed to accept the fact that they couldn’t change her house, just as they couldn’t change their blood status – no matter how much they may have wanted to. If they were ever asked, they did what all elitists did – they lied.
Throughout her secondary school career, Cora discovered a love of Quidditch – though she wasn’t by any means the best at the sport, it was invigorating and, more importantly, it was difficult for anyone to speak while they were speeding past each other. She was quiet, as ever, throughout her daytime lessons, only speaking when she was asked a direct question – and sometimes only when that question was asked twice. She was much more animated at night, her Housemates found, and it both confused and intrigued them. Where most yawned through Astronomy, this was the only lesson in which she spoke unprompted. At first, her classmates were bewildered, but they quickly got used to it – even if there was a rumour circulating that she was a vampire. If Cora ever heard the rumour, she didn’t bother to try to dispel it, though her brothers did – mostly using methods that Cora frowned upon.
She wasn’t a fantastic student by any means – at OWL level, the only subject she received Exceeds Expectations in was, of course, Astronomy. Her scores barely allowed her to take the courses she wanted to NEWT level, and for the first two months of school, Cora was routinely found asleep at every opportunity throughout the day – sleeping at night had never come easily to her and she tended to use that time when the common room was all but unoccupied to study the things that didn’t come easily to her. Though it (and her grades) improved through the rest of the year, Cora couldn’t help but be relieved when she walked out of her final examination. She never wanted to sit another exam as long as she lived.
Cora spent that first summer doing what she supposed all newly graduated witches and wizards did – she applied for countless internships, apprenticeships, mentoring sessions and jobs. At the first few interviews, she was like a Bugs Bunny in headlights. She stuttered, though she never had before, and always said completely the wrong thing. Disheartened, Cora almost didn’t attend the final interview. She went only because her mother already looked so disappointed that her daughter was one of the last in her year to have been accepted for any work-study. It was difficult, but Cora forced herself to sit patiently when the interviewer – a Professor Mirabel Hadworthy – wasn’t at their agreed meeting point dead on time. She didn’t, however, have to force a smile when a harried and out of breath woman dropped into the seat opposite her – though the smile could have been interpreted as humour at the other woman’s situation, it was genuine relief that she had turned up. The professor attempted a garbled explanation, but her words all merged into one, and Cora laughed, the sound quiet but kind. ”Don’t worry, Professor. I haven’t been waiting long.” Dependent on one’s definition of ‘long’, it wasn’t exactly a lie. Cora tried to avoid lying where possible – one of the reasons that she spoke so rarely; by the time a diplomatic response had been analysed, the conversation had moved on.
Unlike the other interviewers, Mirabel didn’t seem to mind the silences – instead, she seemed to read something into them, as every time Cora digested a question, Mirabel was writing notes before the young witch even opened her mouth. At the end of their meeting, Cora wasn’t optimistic. She didn’t think that the professor had been paying all that much attention to her, and the other rejections had made her question everything. It was almost a week before she found out that Mirabel wanted her. In a rare showing of exuberance, Cora had danced around the house in excitement before reading the rest of the letter and instantly panicking. She had three hours to pack! Cora knew then that she would be good for the professor – force her to think ahead a little, instead of just above.
For seven years, Cora and Mirabel travelled together, mapping constellations from different points on the globe, observing spectacular phenomena that Cora had previously only dreamed about. Cora thought nothing of it, but in that time, Mirabel slowly managed to draw her out of the shell she had confined herself in, and by the end of it, it wasn’t so much Cora that had influenced Mirabel – it was very much the other way around. And when Mirabel announced her retirement, Cora knew exactly what she wanted to do. She wanted to teach. So Cora intended on having to search for a couple of years to find an open position – there were only so many schools of magic, of course, and many witches and wizards far more qualified than she. It seemed, though, that the planets were aligned just right, and there was the opportunity to apply to work at the very school she had graduated from – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She applied, thinking very little of her chances. And yet, somehow, now she was making lesson plans! This was going to be a very interesting year...
OOC NAME: Sian
