#and maybe it is pathetic how i hide all my silly creative projects from everyone but the strangers on the internet

[tchaikovskym]

There is this part of me that wants to wallow in self-pity, that wants to believe I'm doomed forever and that there is nothing good waiting for me. But the funny thing is, it's not true. I am better than I used to be. I am healthier than I used to be. It's just tiring to always try to be better. And while it is a possibility that the doom part of me will turn out to be true, there is a possibility that it won't.

[stillrecruitingrp]

The D.A. has recruited Nicky to the character of Tracey Davis with a faceclaim of Jung Eun-ji. How long do you think you can keep fooling them, Tracey? That much filth is hard to hide, you know...

OOC Details

Name: Nicky

Pronouns: she/her

Activity Level: medium; I should be able to post multiple replies three to four times a week, with an at least cursory online presence more often than that. Sometimes I get bogged down with other projects or deadlines, but I will always try to alert via the ooc when that is/will happen so my interaction partners aren’t left wondering where I’ve gone!

Acknowledgement: I acknowledge the potentially triggering themes and look forward to the uncertainty and excitement of the roulette.

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General IC Details

Name: Tracey Patricia Davis

Age: eighteen, born November 21st

Ships: no specific ships; Tracey is bisexul but coming from a Muggle background means that she isn’t exactly comfortable with this and has so far managed to push her burgeoning queerness onto the back-burner (although that’s getting harder the most stress she’s under; it would be nice to lose her strife in a few soft kisses or warm caresses, but she’s afraid to let anyone -- boy or girl -- get that close).

Gender/Pronouns: cis-female, she/her

Face Claim: Jung Eun-ji or Maisie Richardson-Sellers

Desired Changes: none

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BIO Questions

This game is Canon Divergent after the beginning of Deathly Hallows. This means, if a character is not at Hogwarts in canon, that can be altered (maybe Fleur goes to collect her husband’s little sister and ends up unable to leave the rest of the children there? Perhaps Harry comes back earlier…but why, and how? All of these things can be addressed and should be in your application!) Feel free to be creative!

Biography:

Once upon a time Tracey was a cheerful, happy, awkward little girl growing up in Cookham with a happy, cheerful little family of mum, step-dad, and baby brother Bobby. She liked coming up with fun new ways to wear her clothes, leaving her chewing gum in places that would make mum yell, and listening to Sheila Chandra, Duran Duran, and The Levellers. Mum was a general practitioner, dad a grocer, and little Bobby just a bundle of drool and diapers. Then the witch showed up on their doorstep and told Tracey there was something different about her...and she didn’t mean it the way the neighborhood kids did. So Tracey went off to Hogwarts School, where her troubles began the moment she was sorted.

There are more Muggle-borns in Slytherin House than people suspect. Tracey is one of them, although she -- like most of the Slytherins who share her blood-status -- was clever enough to figure out quickly that this wasn’t a good thing, so she fabricated a story about her grandmother being a squib whose family didn’t want her going around claiming kinship over the embarrassment of having produced a child without a trace of magic. That’s not a far-fetched tale, so no one ever questioned her -- especially since Tracey played-up her own “disdain” toward inferior blood and her own Muggle relations. She was over-compensating, yes, and her housemates could probably tell -- but they let her fake it and they played along. That’s something else that happens more often than admitted in Slytherin House: because there’s such a focus on purity of blood, most everyone is eager to claim as much magical ancestry as possible -- even if that means lying about a few muddy branches on the family tree.

Tracey was never exactly popular in her house, but she wasn’t scorned either; she knew to flatter the right people, and as long as she grinned her way through the occasional barb about “magical dead-ends” from Pansy Parkinson or the other “elites” she wasn’t mocked too badly, despite her lack of familiarity with the magical world -- a familiarity that Tracey has been working to acquire ever since her first night in the dungeons, whether that mean listening to her housemates or spending her free hours in the library flipping through every volume on wizarding society and history that she can get her hands on. She also developed a knack for transfigurative stitching, which helped her alter some of her clothes so they didn’t look quite so dreadfully Muggle -- although she still stuck-out whenever she wore something other than her uniform. Fortunately most people pitied her for her squib ancestry rather than ostracizing her, and she founds friends who were willing to help tutor her in keeping up with all the important things that schoolbooks didn’t teach -- all of which meant that when rumor of Voldemort’s resurrection reached Tracey’s ears, she knew enough of what was coming to know that she’d more than a flimsy story about a secret squib to keep her safe now.

Fortunately being in Slytherin meant she had friends with influence and leverage in the Ministry, although she hesitated to trust any of them with the truth -- but inspiration and an understanding of the world she now inhabited gave her the solution: claim that she needed fake documentation to back-up her “true” blood-status, since the family she was really related to would have been furious to have a squib shoved back onto their family tree after they’d gone to all the trouble of getting rid of them. Tracey isn’t sure whether she managed to pull that story off, or if they just took pity on her -- but either way, she got the documentation she needed to be able to go back to school when the Muggle-born Registration Commission started investigating magic-stealers.

School Year So Far:

Tracey has never told her parents about the magical world’s issues with blood-status, or the way she lied about her family’s history in order to be accepted. She knows they wouldn’t be pleased; her mum and dad raised her to be proud of who she is and to hold her head high and ignore anyone who said anything nasty about her heritage. But they don’t understand how different it all is in the magical world, where no one looks askance at her ethnicity but so many of them would shun her completely for being a Mudblood. That slur seems to have so much more weight than any of the ones she’s been treated to in the Muggle world -- maybe because it cuts to the core of who she is rather than flickering out at what she looks like. Regardless, they never knew, and it wasn’t like any of her magical friends were ever going to come visiting to give her away, was it? Maybe she sometimes feels a little ashamed of pretending to be someone she isn’t...but better than the alternative, she tells herself, and keeps the charade going.

That meant her parents had no reason to hesitate over sending her back to Hogwarts for her final year of school, and the Ministry had no reason to stop her, so she went -- that was the goal behind getting those fake documents, after all! But now she’s here at Hogwarts, and she’s quaking in her shoes waiting for the day when someone finds out. She has a big, dangerous secret she’s keeping, and she’s starting to crumble under the strain -- as much from indignation as from fear, surprisingly. Tracey is ambitious too, after all (there was a reason she was sorted into Slytherin!) and her ambitions don’t include pretending to be “better” than she “really” is forever, not when she knows she’s better than that -- and the lie sticks in her craw more and more every year, every time she has to laugh at some other Mudblood to cover for her own ancestry, every time she has to put-down her pathetic parents for their lack of magical gifts, every time she has to help the Carrows torture some hapless idiot who can’t keep their mouth shut. She does as she’s told, of course -- a girl with “squib” ancestry can’t risk getting on the wrong side of Death Eaters -- but her rage over the unfairness of it all coils in her belly like hot lead, burning to get out.

But Tracey keeps her mouth shut because she’s clever enough to know that now is not the time to take a stand on principle -- is it?

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OOC Questions

Writing Sample

Tracey’s knees knocked together and her palms kept sweating, no matter how many times she wiped them off on the sides of her robes. For once she was glad for the cumbersome clothing favored in the magical world (even after six years, she still preferred her comfortable cargo pants or denims) because the enshrouding fabric hid her shaking as she waited for them to call her name.

She tried not to look at the other nervous, sweaty people standing with her -- or at the guards watching them, alternately grim-faced or leering. Tracey wasn’t the only defendant clutching a sheaf of paper as though it was her only lifeline out of a freezing ocean, and she doubted she was the only one whose heart was currently pounding its way up her throat either. They were all trying hard to avoid meeting one another’s eyes, as though afraid that guilt could be contagious. Tracey thought that was a bit silly, because the whole reason they were here was to try and prove that they had some connection to the magical world, so if they could show connections to one another, wouldn’t that help to prove that they were more magic than Muggle...?

Before she could follow that line of thought through to a conclusion, the sound of her name being barked by the officiant manning the door jolted her from her reverie and made her jump.

Shaking worse than ever, Tracey hurried forward, trying not to trip over her robes or her nerves. She could feel the eyes of the other accused Muggle-borns darting over and sliding away as she passed them, everyone unable to resist the urge to stare at the latest victim to face Ministerial inspection but unwilling to be caught staring. She did her best to ignore them all, keeping her eyes fixed ahead and trying to school her face into an expression of unconcern.

By the time she crossed the threshold into the courtroom, she still didn’t think she’d succeeded, but it became almost immediately irrelevant because her expression -- whatever it was -- was immediately replaced by surprise at the sight of the witch waiting at the high table inside. Her jaw dropped and hung open, as though she were an overwhelmed first year facing the wonders of the magical world for the first time again -- although the frigid, grim courtroom with its solitary defendant’s chair and empty encircling benches was far from wonderful. The witch presiding, though, was both familiar and unmistakable, if not exactly pleasant-looking either.

“Professor Umbridge?” Tracey gasped, her steps faltering. One of the black-robed guards caught her by the elbow and marched her forward but Tracey barely noticed; she was too busy gaping.

Professor Umbridge -- or no, not professor anymore, was she? -- leaned forward over the edge of her table so she could stare down at Tracey. “Miss Davis, isn’t it?” she said, in her obnoxiously performative fake-little-girl voice. “I’m very disappointed to see you here, I have to say.”

“I’m -- I’m not thrilled about it myself, er, professor,” Tracey stammered. “But I think if you’ll look, you’ll see it’s all just a...an unfortunate bit of confusion...” She shoved the papers she held up onto the edge of Umbridge’s table and tried to smile. One of the other guards cleared her throat and Tracey stepped back quickly. She tucked her hands away behind the long sleeves of her robes, out of sight, and crossed her fingers. Was all her effort to ingratiate herself to this horrible woman two years ago finally going to pay off?

Umbridge shuffled through the papers a few times, darting the occasional squinty glance at Tracey between pages. After what felt like days but was probably only a few minutes, she finally said, “Well! This does seem to be in order. I quite understand why neither you nor the No -- well, the family involved wanted your connection to them publicized...”

Tracey stiffened. “Please don’t make it public!” she blurted. “Please -- they would be so mad, having to acknowledge a squib, that’s why I never told anyone, my grandmother said--”

Umbridge held up a hand with a short “Hem, hem!” and Tracey fell silent, waiting with baited breath. In truth of course she wasn’t worried that the family she had fabricated a connection to would be cross; she was worried that they would, just justifiably, deny said connection and offer proof that it wasn’t true -- which wouldn’t be hard for them to do, Tracey was sure, given that the documents she had provided were completely false. If Umbridge chose to make her life “difficult” by “embarrassing” the pure-bloods that Tracey was claiming familial ties with, she’d make things much more difficult than she thought she was...

But Umbridge only said, “Oh no, of course not, dear girl. That would be heartless. And it’s admirable that you’ve chosen to respect the wishes of the family rather than trumpeting your roots for all to hear. It’s very polite, discreet. Better behavior than one usually sees from those raised by Muggles -- but I suppose you’ve learned a lot from your housemates, hmm?”

Tracey nodded. “Ever so much, ma’am, yes.” Like how to arrange for falsified documents showing that your utterly Muggle grandmother was really the squib descendant of a famed pure-blood family, for instance. “I’ve tried so hard to fit in, you know, to do my bloodline proud even if it’s not one I can acknowledge publicly...”

“And I’m sure you’ll make them proud, secretly. You’ve been studying hard for your N.E.W.T.s?”

“Oh yes, ma’am!” Tracey’s hands were starting to shake from how tightly her fingers were clenched, but she forced herself to keep smiling.

“Splendid! I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully,” Umbridge tittered, holding Tracey’s papers out for her to take back. “Good luck at Hogwarts this year, Miss Davis. It was lovely to see you again.”

“You, too,” Tracey lied, and followed the guard out of the courtroom. Her knees were still shaking but this time as she passed the other accused Muggle-borns she was grinning -- even if she still couldn’t bring herself to meet their eyes.

Exploration

TORTURE & HYPOCRISY: Tracey is used to over-compensating, used to deferring to her more socially advantaged (and purer) housemates, used to lying about her true opinions -- but now the stakes have raised and the Carrows don’t just demand that she laugh at their ugly jokes about Mudbloods, they want her to torture her fellow students. It honestly isn’t the spells themselves that Tracey objects to (maybe it’s because she comes from a non-magical world, a world where terrible weapons of war are a fact of life that can’t be ignored as easily as the Unforgivables) so much as it is the fact that she knows she is their real target. And not just because she knows that her status as a “squib’s descendant” means she’s more susceptible to punishment herself than most of her housemates (and she’s experienced her fair share of the curses herself) but because the truth is even worse in their eyes. Sure, she doesn’t hesitate to raise her wand when one of the Carrows tells her to -- and she’ll readily admit that it’s been interesting learning a form of magic that relies more on emotion than most spells -- and while it’s not comfortable by any means to be made to hurt her classmates, what really upsets her is knowing that she doesn’t have a right to. According to the Death Eaters, she’s the one who really deserves to be tortured -- and no, she doesn’t agree with that of course, but she does feel like a hypocrite when she’s hiding behind her house placement and her documents so she can stay safe while she hurts somebody else who isn’t lying about who they are and what they believe. Is that enough to push her into taking a stand -- or is it more likely that she’ll double-down and work even harder to excel at the Carrows’ new lessons, over-compensating to hide her dismay and her secrets just like she’s always done?

OPEN-MINDEDNESS: Growing up in the Muggle world means that Tracey lacks the prejudices and presumptions common to wizaring children (yet carries several more mundane such viewpoints, of course) so for instance -- the Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry? While she figured that out fast, and has certainly learned to dislike Gryffindor House on principle due to all the squabbles and competition between the houses, that’s all it is to her -- a squabble, mostly wrapped-up in sport it seems, and not some insurmountable barrier that she wouldn’t be willing to vault under the right circumstances (not that a Gryffindor would ever be likely to reach out to some Slytherin “squib’s grandchild” for any reason...right?). Even more notable -- the name Voldemort? It doesn’t actually terrify her. She’s a little rattled by it just because of how rattled everyone else gets anytime it’s mentioned, but it doesn’t have the same power over her that it does most of the people she knows. The same is true of the Unforgivable Curses -- they’re just more spells, to her. Nasty spells, to be sure, but there are a lot of nasty spells; what really makes the Cruciatus Curse so much worse than any other hex, aside from the fact that it hurts more? She knows that Dark Magic is bad -- just like she knows guns and nukes and bombs are bad -- but she doesn’t recoil from it on principle. She doesn’t recoil from any spells on principle, because she didn’t grow up with those principles and prejudices. This makes her more open-minded about what can be done with spells, or which spells are okay to use when and where and to whom; makes her willing to cross lines that her friends would instinctively balk at. Tracey has done a lot to learn the unspoken rules of the wizarding world -- but that doesn’t mean she’s internalized them all. Doesn’t mean she isn’t willing to break them all, even.

MUDDIED ALLEGIANCE: Tracey is sort of stuck in the middle right now -- to every appearance a dutiful Slytherin, far from pure-blooded but aware of the limitations of her own blood-status and loyal to the old ways despite her Muggle upbringing. Underneath that, though, she’s living a lie and a dangerous lie at that, constantly under threat of exposure and the inevitable punishment and incarceration (or worse) that such a revelation would cause. Maybe she’ll double-down on her habits of over-compensation, go full-out in pledging allegiance to the Carrows and Snape and even, eventually, Voldemort himself -- because what better way to hide her blood-status than behind one of those silver masks? Or maybe she’ll go the other way: fed up with living a lie, she could turn on the Carrows and her prejudiced pure-blood friends, throw her allegiance to the D.A. -- but would they be willing to accept a Slytherin as an ally? Who would she even try making an overture to -- and would she be willing to risk sharing the secret of her blood-status to convince them? If she does, what’s to say they won’t sell her out to protect their own skins -- or use her as a double-agent, in even more danger than she was before...or would she be? As a Muggle-born, is there anything she could do that would put her in more danger than she is already?

SECRETS: Everyone has them, and Slytherins are smart enough to know and accept that as a fact without getting huffy, like those goody-goody Hufflepuffs and self-righteous Gryffindors so often do. However, some secrets are more dangerous than others, and Tracey’s secret is deadly. The best insurance with which to protect herself, thereofore, is to stockpile everyone else’s secrets so she can threaten to expose them if they ever discover and threaten to expose hers -- right? It’s the sort of Cold War/Mutually Assured Destruction mentality that a girl who grew up watching Muggle news and movies in the late eighties would be quick to grasp as a solution to her problem, and Tracey hasn’t hesitated to built up her arsenal. Now that she’s getting scared, getting angry, she’s decided it’s time to start making other people afraid too -- time to make sure that everyone knows there’s a threat out there, someone who knows and someone who is willing to tell. Just a little here and there, things to embarrass rather than destroy...at least to start with. Just enough to make them aware, to make them wary, to make sure that if she needs to call in her marker (her blackmail) people will know she’s serious about it. Because what good is a weapon if you don’t demonstrate the will to use it?