ECHO, Esmeralda Amy

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WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES I SEE YOU
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ESMERALDA AMY ECHO!
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IN MY DREAMS YOU WILL BE NEAR[/center][/b][/color]

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I WON’T LET YOU DISAPPEAR
BUT I’M HERE ON MY OWN
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I AM CRYING OUT FOR YOU
IN THE CENTER OF MY HEART
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OVERALL PERSONALITY: Esmeralda is a naturally kind woman who suffers from a ‘superhero complex’ unable to stop herself desperately wanting to help and further those around her. Absent-minded and unashamedly herself (and all the weird traits that encompasses) she can at first meeting come across as half-crazed, her head to far in the clouds to truly be able to hold a sensible conversation with. However past these first impressions lies an empathetic, intellectual woman with well read and learnt views on the world and everything in it.

A recent heartbreak has led her to often question herself and turn shyer in truly opening herself up to people afraid her trust and loyalty will be betrayed once more. Like many serious academics when it comes to meeting people for the first time Esme lacks the necessary social skills to make a long lasting good impression, though those that persevere are rewarded. Once you have Esme for a friend you have a friend for life, fiercely loyal she would do anything for those she considers ‘hers’. Esme can be criticised as being blind to the little things to the state of inobservance however on rare occasions she will pipe up about things she’s noticed that forms a far larger and often missed bigger picture.

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YOU USED TO HEAR ME BREATHE
WHEN YOU TOUCHED ME DEEP
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OVERALL DESCRIPTION: Esme has a clear passion for muggle fashions, especially the early 50’s and the late 80’s, this would be enough to cause some rather confusing mismatches but when you add wizarding robes and leathers to the occasion you get Esme. It has been speculated she dresses by dragging out everything she owns throwing it all on the floor and picking whatever’s closest. Her dress sense is questionable at best but there’s no doubting it suits her. Often teased for her short stature she can usually be found in heels that place her at a more average height especially in lessons (it’s just embarrassing to have some first years taller then you).

Healthily pale Esme has a slight glow to her cheeks from the amount of time she spends outdoors. With a rounded face and a warm smile she exudes friendliness. When not a special occasion she wears very little makeup other then a small touch of eyeliner around shockingly blue eyes. Her coal black hair is kept in a slight curl at her shoulders, though kept she fidgets about with it often and by the end of the day it often lays dishevelled and ruffled.

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CAN YOU HEAR THE SOUNDS?
CAN YOU FEEL THE HEAT?
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Esme was born as an unexpected miracle, her parents having long given up after almost a decade of failure to conceive. As such she was heavily dotted upon and loved during her childhood. Her parents were both busy with their independent careers her mother a writer for wizarding fiction (and quite trashy romance novels if they were both honest), her father working at the apothecary in Diagon Alley and always trying his hand at new inventions in the back garden of their small terrace house. But the two always ensured they had time for their only daughter. As soon as she was able her childhood years were spent with her nose pressed almost permanently in a book. By the age of five it was clear she would be receiving her Hogwarts letter.

Much to her parents delight the letter came as they knew it would when she turned 11, she had already spent much of her childhood in Diagon Alley meeting her father from work but being able to finally buy her student robes and books filled Esme with glee. She fell in love with Hogwarts the moment she set eyes on it, from the first day promising herself that when she was old like Professor Dumbledore she’d be teaching at Hogwarts to. She was happily sorted into Hufflepuff like her father. Here she made a small select group of friends from across the houses, uncaring of any ‘houseism’ especially directed at the Slytherin’s – her mother was a Slytherin so they couldn’t possibly be all bad. For the first few years of Hogwarts she was bullied for being the smallest in the class, for her eccentricities and her mugglborn father. It was in the third year she confronted her bullies, the five of them found strung up by their underwear on the outskirts of the forbidden forest. They’d left her alone after that, but of course she’d been sent to Dumbledore’s office though the kindly wizard despite deducting house points smiled knowingly over the rim of his glasses.

She did exceptionally well in her studies and still takes great pride in playing Chaser for the Hufflepuff Quiddich Team. Much of her spare time was spent between the headmaster’s office and detention, her limited free time taken up with foolish and mostly harmless pranks with her friends, exploring the castle after dark and putting a stop to anyone they found harassing the first years.

By the age of sixteen Esme knew exactly what she wanted to do after Hogwarts, from then on she worked her hardest to receive the highest grades possible, gained as much work experience at her fathers shop during the holidays and badgered family friends into introducing her to members of the Ministry of Magic. All in the hope that when she graduated the Ministry would accept her application to work in the Department of Mysteries. After much red tape and jumping through hoops two years after her graduation she was accepted. While forbidden to speak of her time in the Department of Mysteries it is clear Esme adored the job.

During this time she met Gabriel Turner an ambitious wizard in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement who aimed to be on the Wizengamot. She despised him at first, he was arrogant, ruthless and it seemed whenever their paths crossed professionally or privately they could do nothing but argue with one another. She’d never met anyone that infuriated her as much as Gabriel Turner. As everyone else but themselves had seen coming like a train, one thing led to another at the annual Christmas party and after much punch she awoke in the morning in his bed. After a year of drunken encounters the two finally came to accept that perhaps they should give dating a try. Two years later they were married.

It was coming up to their fifth anniversary when Esme came home early from work with the intent of surprising her husband. He beat her to that one. It was almost a cliché, her husband entwined with a much younger, prettier woman. And his reaction, not the desperate clambering of apologies, of how he was weak like in her mothers books, but a cold stare, a question of what she expected when she was never home. That had hurt more then the infidelity. The divorce is an on-going messy affair.

For some time she attempted to continue working at the Ministry until the news came to light that her colleagues, her friends had known of her husbands doings but thought it wasn’t their place to tell her. Devastated and utterly humiliated in an act she admits was one of cowardice unable to stomach seeing her husband in the hallways and her would be friends with their pitying eyes, despite her love for her job she handed in her notice. If she was to get on with her life she needed a fresh start, away from it all.

She had regained contact with her old head of house Pomona Sprout many years before hand, letters converged between them about their similar love of herbology and all things natural, the two bouncing articles and papers off the other on new species, new properties and uses they had found from their studies of plants. The letters had soon dissolved into tea and lunch meetings. It was Pomona that suggested perhaps she should move forward her plans of teaching at Hogwarts when she retired from the ministry. Pomona expressed her difficulty in keeping up with her classes, that with her growing age she wanted to take things easier and spend more time on her own hobbies. Perhaps it was time she asked Dumbledore if she could have an apprentice to take over some of her large load of classes.

The interview with Professor Dumbledore was easily the most terrifying moment of her life. But the old headmaster was as kind as she remembered him, remembering how she’d often sat just as nervously infront of him after getting into trouble when she was a student herself. ‘I hope Hogwarts brings you some solace Esmeralda.’ She already knew it would.

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I HAVE LEFT PARADISE AND
I DID NOT EVEN SAY GOODBYE
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The one thing Pomona had regretted to mention in her little recruitment speech was the food of Hogwarts. Esme had never been a cook, her every attempt at cooking the muggle way resulting in a kitchen full of smoke and something black and crispy for dinner and even her attempts to place a meal together by using magic on the ingredients led to less then desirable results. She’d always relied on the marvels of takeaways, precooked meals and her husband. Ex-husband she promptly corrected herself. To be faced with a nightly feast of home cooked goods in the great hall of Hogwarts was thrilling. How all the staff members weren’t the size of a house she’d never know.

She piled the golden plate with cut potatoes and sausages, seeming not to notice the look of absolute dismay on the professor to her left as she topped it off with a large scoop of vanilla ice-cream and layers of drizzled chocolate sauce. Happily she tucked into the bizarre makeshift meal, always being a lover of the cross between savoury and sweet – it was divine. “Merlin’s beard, this is fabulous.” She grinned excitedly at the professor beside her who looked alarmed at best, again she seemed to either not notice or chose to ignore it. “Pomona mentioned Hogwarts would bring big changes, I didn’t realise she was talking about my waist line. You should really try this!” Clearly she had chosen to sit next to the wrong professor who gave a polite but most definitely definitive ‘no I don’t think I should’ and turned to engage another in conversation.

It was Esme’s first week and she still felt very much an intruder in Hogwarts. Being able to walk freely as she pleased in the castle and its grounds without the elation and fear at being caught out of bed after hours was bizarre. She’d spent much of her time so far ‘organising’ (or as others would see it, creating a chaos that she alone seemed to understand the logic of) the greenhouses. Pomona had an extensive collection, some of what grew in the locked greenhouses she had only ever read about in books.

Her first lessons started next week, she had been both excited and horrified when Dumbledore had passed that information over breakfast. Certainly she’d known what teaching would include when she signed up, but sitting at the head table looking out over the hundreds of bodies crowded around the four tables Esme couldn’t help but feel she’d made the wrong decision entirely. She’d confided this in Pomona who had rather brutally poked her in the ribs, told her to straighten her back and stop being ‘a big girl’s blouse’ (whatever that meant). Her friend was right of course she’d always wanted to teach, to throw away the opportunity for fear and nerves would be moronic.

THIS FORM WAS MADE BY MISTRESS SNAKEY OF CAUTION PLEASE DO NORT REMOVE THIS PART.
SONG LYRICS ARE HERE ON MY OWN BY SWEETBOX.

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