<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 20pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>CAT'S CHARACTERS PT 2.</strong></span></span></div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">⟡</span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;">⟡</span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 36pt;">⟡</span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;">⟡</span><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">⟡</span></div><br/><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">JULIET MARIE BROOKS</span></span></strong></div><div align="center">(http://i1061.photobucket.com/albums/t472/liquid_amnesia/SW/tumblr_m66oxy0Z6h1qf5qhso1_500.gif)</div><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"> The Loner | 17 | Bisexual | Neutral Good | Acedia | Anna Speckhart</span></span></div><br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Character Sheet</div><div class="spoiler_body"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><br/><strong> 1. BASICS</strong></span></span><br/><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">NAME || Juliet Marie Brooks<br/>NICKNAME(S), ORIGIN || Jules, self-explanatory<br/>SEX || Female<br/>DATE OF BIRTH || January 23rd<br/>PLACE OF BIRTH || Berkshire, England<br/>CURRENT ADDRESS || Girl’s Dormitory Bed #5, Gryffindor Tower<br/>NATIONALITY || English<br/>ETHNICITY || Caucasian; English, French, Welsh<br/>SEXUALITY || Bisexual<br/>TRAITS ||  <br/>Positive: Loyal, intelligent, forgiving, patient, honest, compassionate, determined <br/>Neutral: Contemplative, introverted, enigmatic, cooperative, sharp-tongued<br/>Negative: Untrusting, outwardly apathetic, stubborn, impulsive, vulnerable<br/>OCCUPATION || Student<br/>ARCHETYPE || The Loner<br/>ALIGNMENT || Neutral Good<br/>SIN || Acedia<br/>STAR SIGN || Aquarius; Rowan - The Thinker<br/>HOUSE || Gryffindor<br/>AMORTENTIA || Chocolate, pine trees, a crackling fire<br/>BOGGART || Her father<br/>PATRONUS || Sheep - innocent aspect of yourself; your childhood, child-like qualities characterized by innocence, gentleness. Vulnerability with a negative meaning, weakness, vulnerability that could turn into powerlessness. Vulnerability with a positive meaning: Self-acceptance, ability to respect your own limits<br/>QUOTE || “Wherever you go, you take yourself with you” - The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman<br/>SONG || The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot by Brand New (rather than a breakup song, I picture this as a conversation between her current self and her past self in the alternating verses)<br/>SECRET || Her abuse of sleeping potions is not a well-kept secret. However, the scar on her chest is a story yet to be told. Only her mother, father, and the whole of the Wizengamot truly know how it got there. The rest are just rumors.<br/>GOAL || Start a new life someday, maybe. <br/>LANGUAGES || English, French and a little bit of elementary Gobbledegook<br/>FACE CLAIM || Anna Speckhart<br/>OPEN || She’s a vegetarian!<br/><br/><strong>2. PHYSICAL</strong><br/>BODY TYPE || Slim pear<br/>HEIGHT || 5’6’’<br/>WEIGHT || 113lbs <br/>HAIR || Long, straight, dark brown, never styled<br/>EYES || Bright blue-green<br/>BIRTHMARKS || None, but she has several freckles across her nose and cheeks<br/>DISFIGUREMENTS || None<br/>SCARS || A thin white scar down the middle of her chest that starts just below her collarbone and ends just above her stomach; several small nicks and scars on her knees from quidditch and general roughhousing<br/>PIERCINGS || Ears, first hole<br/>TATTOOS || None<br/>ACCENT || Proper English accent<br/>HOW DO THEY DRESS || When not in uniform Juliet alternates between more revealing items and big, loose fitting garments. Short skirts, sweaters, ripped jeans, leggings, flannel and cropped tops are all within her usual rotation. She wears boots and booties almost year-round with thick, warm socks because her feet are always cold. <br/>WHAT DO THEY WEAR TO SLEEP || Pajama shorts and an oversized sweatshirt in the colder months, shorts and a t-shirt in the warmer months<br/>DO THEY WEAR JEWELRY || She has two diamond stud earrings that she never takes out<br/>WHAT WOULD THEY CHANGE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE || That stupid scar<br/>WHAT DO THEY SMELL LIKE || Lavender, lemongrass shampoo and a slight hint of men’s aftershave<br/>ACCURATE MENTAL PICTURE? || She’s not very self-aware<br/><br/><br/><strong>3. PERSONALITY</strong><br/>QUIRK || spaces out and stares into the distance for long periods of time, sometimes even in the middle of conversation; always has a chocolate frog in her pocket or schoolbag; absentmindedly taps fingers on surfaces as if she is playing the piano; snatches at candle flames when they are within reach<br/><br/>HABITS || never lets the foods on her plate mix/touch; drinks sleeping potion recreationally; picks at her nail polish; leaves in the middle of classes without being excused; speaks in a very soft voice; sleeps with her head under the pillow; twists the ends of her hair when she is bored; bites the inside of her cheek when she is upset<br/><br/>LIKES || Chocolate, she has a massive sweet tooth; quidditch; people who can sit in comfortable silence; playing the piano; being on top; fuzzy socks; napping instead of going to class; tracing things with her finger over and over again; snowstorms; the thrill of competition; mashed potatoes; the time of day right after sunset when the sun is gone but it's still light out so there are no stars and the sky is totally blank; sitting by the fireplace; witty back-and-forth banter; people who show that they care instead of just saying that they do; homemade gifts; the quiet walk home after a long night out<br/><br/>DISLIKES || Being called on in class when she didn’t raise her hand; cuckoo clocks; socializing with large groups; being told what to do;  the smell of cigars; talking about her feelings; being touched unexpectedly; itchy fabrics; dementors; the way her hands shake when she’s experiencing withdrawal from sleeping potions; being called Julie; when people stare at her scar; olives; being asked stupid questions; speaking without having anything to say; coffee and tea; sleeping with the door open; when adults talk about their children as if they aren’t in the same room; crying in front of people; theoretical learning; firewhiskey<br/><br/>SELF-PERCEPTION || Juliet once had a very clear idea of who she was: a rambunctious young girl with lots of ideas swimming in her head; at times a strain on her mother’s patience, but generally kindhearted and a fierce friend. (Not to mention, she was quite proud of her abilities on the quidditch pitch). Now, that girl feels like an imaginary friend long forgotten. Juliet often wonders if she ever truly knew her at all. Instead, she finds herself akin to a ghost. Not truly present, an observer of the living around her. She possesses little insight about herself other than that she is not who she used to be. She knows that she is a disappointment to her mother, she knows that she is worrying her friends, she knows that she is hurting herself but she just can’t seem to help it. Sleeping potions help to dull her senses, her thoughts and, most importantly, her dreams so that she can drift through life apathetic and untouched. <br/><br/>OTHERS’ PERCEPTION || There was a time when many would hear the name Juliet Brooks and smile. Some, perhaps, would be wracked with jealousy, while others may even find her feisty nature abrasive at best. Now, the Brooks name evokes little more than furtive glances and whispered rumors. Her destructive behaviors only exacerbated their curiosity. Many pity her, but few understand her. <br/><br/>WEAKNESSES || Apologies, she’ll forgive almost anyone even if they don’t deserve it; neck kisses; internalizing her problems/feelings; sleeping potions; learning theory rather than practice; confrontation when it matters<br/><br/>STRENGTHS || Independent and honest, almost to a fault; loyalty; perseverance; excellent at hands-on subjects like Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts<br/><br/>ASPIRATIONS || She won’t admit it to herself, but she would still quite like to become a Healer one day<br/><br/>FEARS || drowning; her father; that she won’t ever feel normal again<br/><br/>WHAT MAKES HIM/HER IRRATIONALLY ANGRY || when someone insults her friends; being asked intrusive questions by strangers<br/><br/>WHAT MAKES HIM/HER CRY || feeling helpless; when her pets die or friends get hurt (*coughRowancough*)<br/><br/>WAYS TO CHEER UP THIS PERSON || Chocolate!!!; crack jokes; let her completely ignore what is bothering her; give her a handmade card<br/><br/>WAYS TO ANNOY THIS PERSON || ask too many questions; get too touchy-feely; tell her what to do; spread gossip about other people; stare at her scar<br/><br/><br/><strong>4. HISTORY</strong><br/><br/><strong>I.</strong><br/>Juliet Brooks was raised to be a proper young lady. Or, at least, that was her mother’s attempt. From the moment she spoke her first word Juliet was a handful. Her energy kept her bouncing about the house, quite often literally thanks to her early penchant for magical mishaps. She rarely managed to sit still for long, especially when grown ups were talking about things that were oh-so-boring! On her days romping around outside with her fellow young witches and wizards, Juliet ripped many a party dress and got in more than her fair share of playground fights. However, after much scolding and the occasional time-outs, she managed to find a balance between obedience and adventure. <br/><br/>Her father, who often spent many months of the year traveling on Gringotts business,  showered her with gifts galore as a child so that Juliet was never left to want for anything. Exotic trinkets from South America, silk night gowns from France and sparkly jewels from the depths of Egypt all found their way into the Brooks household. Her most prized possession, however, was her toy broomstick, which she whirled and whizzed around on whenever the opportunity arose. <br/><br/>One day, she pushed the toy to its limits and found herself falling from fifteen feet in the air. Her mother was nowhere to be found on the grounds so Juliet, broken clavicle and all, pushed herself off of the ground, picked up her toy broomstick, and made her way inside. Adalyn Brooks was never a master of healing spells. Instead, she pulled out the floo powder, huffing about the interruption to her afternoon tea, and took Juliet on her first visit to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was here that Juliet first realized she wanted to be a Healer. <br/><br/>The aged old wizard who fixed her up was friendly and caring, something she rarely experienced at home with her mother (though her father doted on her, he was rarely around during her most formative years). After waving his wand and sending the girl’s collar bone back into place, the healer completed a muggle trick and pulled a lollipop from behind the ten year old’s ear, making her giggle and forget about the pain she had endured. He had done such a good job, in fact, that the first thing Juliet wanted to do when she got home was hop back on her broomstick. Her mother, sadly, would not allow it, and the Brooks girl was confined to her room for three torturous days. <br/><br/>A few months later, after fall lent way to winter and the holidays had come and gone, Juliet received the most delightful piece of mail: she would be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in eight short months! The days could not go by fast enough. <br/><br/>Juliet’s father would come and go in the weeks leading up to her arrival at Hogwarts. He was meant to accompany her to the train station, but once again was whisked away to deal with Goblins and gold. So, Juliet and her mother set off alone. Adalyn Brooks gripped her daughter’s hand just a little too tightly as they apparated into an abandoned stall in the bathroom of King’s Cross. Tugging the girl’s arm, she was clearly in a rush to push through the crowd of muggles unnoticed. <br/><br/>“Mum, Mum look! There it is!” Juliet bounced on the balls of her feet, pulling her mother to a halt as she pointed at the brick wall between platforms 9 and 10. Adalyn let go of the excitable eleven-year-old’s hand, glaring in her direction as passersby glanced at the brick wall curiously. “Mind yourself, Juliet,” she snapped, checking a dainty gold watch on her dainty wrist. The seconds ticked on and Juliet was almost certain that she would burst with excitement. Luckily, however, her mother finally looked up, giving the girl a brave nod before taking her hand once more and leading her to the Hogwarts Express. <br/><br/>The train’s take-off was a blur of excitement for the young witch. She introduced herself to any friendly face she came across until, finally, finding an empty compartment to call her own. Although Juliet loved to make new friends, she quite liked being on her own. Her vivid imagination could wander to the farthest reaches of her mind and nobody would snap at her to sit up straight or stop staring into space. Her toes tipped and tapped in an upbeat rhythm as she watched the world fly by. It was only when the trolley came around that she realized her stomach had been rumbling all morning. At the site of chocolate frogs, Juliet lit up. As any eleven-year-old with a sweet tooth would, she dumped a sack of galleons out and took as many as she could manage to scoop into her school bag. It was enough to last her through her first few weeks at Hogwarts, and having the sweets readily available soon became a habit. <br/><br/>Upon her arrival (finally!) to Hogwarts, Juliet found a home in Gryffindor tower. She prided herself in her house’s daring, nerve, and chivalry, but she did not limit herself to lions and lionesses. Instead, Juliet formed circles of friends all throughout the school, sharing chocolate frog cards during class, sneaking into the broom cupboards, and exploring the castle’s many secrets in their free time. Life was everything that she had hoped for at Hogwarts, and she hated to admit that the thought of returning home for the holidays dampened her spirits quite considerably. <br/><br/><strong>II.</strong><br/>But return home she did. It was a Brooks family tradition to host an extravagant holiday party on Christmas Eve. Juliet mingled and chattered excitedly about what Christmas would bring with her fellow youngsters until they were all too tuckered out to continue. The night raged on, wine flowing freely about the room until “Oh my is it midnight already?!” was followed by a raucous “Merry Christmas!” Juliet, who had nodded off in an armchair near the fire, stirred. She felt a gentle shake of her shoulder and opened her eyes to see Benedict Brooks, rosy cheeked from drink and Christmas cheer, leaning in to whisper “I think it’s time you went to bed, Julie.” <br/><br/>Juliet nodded and sleepily shuffled her way upstairs. Benedict Brooks followed, but Juliet does not recall him tucking her in. Instead, she awoke Christmas morning much groggier than usual. Rather than run about the house shouting “Christmas! Christmas! Christmas!” the young lioness laid in bed until the sun had fully risen and her mother called her down for breakfast. <br/><br/>The rest of her holiday was spent with restless nights sleep. She built a half-hearted snowman and cheered a little less than usual when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s. However, her spirits lifted as the prospect of returning to Hogwarts loomed closer. The lioness finished her assignments with a flourish - even the boring ones - and, when her mother was not looking, practiced her wand movements with muttered incantations. <br/><br/>Juliet’s return to Gryffindor tower offered her the first solid rest in nearly two weeks, and she was grateful. Returning to her chipper self, the young lioness continued to excel at school. By the end of her first year, she had improved her grades significantly, much to her Ravenclaw mother’s pleasure. Even her father was proud, gifting her with her very own broomstick when she returned for the summer. The little lioness took to the sky from dusk until dawn, only coming down when her mother absolutely insisted she join everyone for tea. <br/><br/>Mr. Brooks was spending more and more time at home, now. He used the Floo Network to join local meetings, he was a consistent presence for weeks on end, which was a rather new experience for Adalyn and Juliet. Not that either complained, of course. He needed to spend more time with the family, he would tell them. Juliet’s absence that past year had made him realize how quickly his little girl was growing up. <br/><br/>Presumably wanting to make up for lost time, Benedict took to tucking Juliet in at night. Though she insisted she was much too old for that, the cold flash of anger in his eyes was enough to guilt the girl into silence. Adalyn said nothing, and instead took to spending her free time reading or the listening to the radio before turning in for bed herself. <br/><br/>Juliet began sleeping later and later into the day. Always groggy, never feeling as if she had had enough rest, the young Gryffindor would find herself unable to recall if she had brushed her teeth the night before. Had she even changed into her pajamas? She would look and there, under the covers, was her pale frame clad in one of her night gowns. Curious.<br/><br/><strong>III.</strong><br/>By the time her second year’s return to Hogwarts came around, Juliet was the same cheerful, albeit more forgetful, girl who had left the castle two months previously. Her endless training on her new broom had proved promising, according to the 6th year captain. Juliet joined the ranks of Gryffindor’s quidditch team as a back-up chaser. Admittedly, the idea of second-string left a bad taste in the girl’s mouth, but not for long. Two matches into the quidditch season, Gryffindor’s star chaser suffered a serious bludger to the head. He spent weeks in recovery, and in that time Juliet had helped to score over 100 points at their following game. She was welcomed to the team with open arms, and Tanner Hill conceded defeat, afraid that another concussion might cause him to miss even more N.E.W.T material. <br/><br/>When December rolled around, Juliet was one of the first to add her name to the list of students who would be remaining at Hogwarts. She wrote to her parents with a polite yet firm explanation - she needed the break to practice quidditch and get caught up on her studies! And so, the Brooks annual Christmas Eve party went on without her. Instead, Juliet spent her evening eating chocolate frogs by the crackling fire of the empty common room, and she was perfectly content with that. <br/><br/>With the quidditch pitch practically all to herself over the holidays, Juliet managed to play on the brightest and snowiest of days. By the time the second term started up again, she was prepared for anything. <br/><br/>Most of her grades slipped ever so slightly by the year’s end; it was not easy keeping up with quidditch and her studies all at once! But her potions and herbology grades continued to soar. The lioness was thrilled to sign up for Care of Magical Creatures for the following year,  accompanied by whatever other classes piqued her interests. By the end of term feast, she already could not wait to return. <br/><br/>Summer saw a droop in Juliet’s spirits. Her only joy came when she had finally convinced her mother, who insisted that all animals were filthy creatures who had no place in a home, to let her get two pet rats of her own. Flora and Fauna were two brilliantly magical dumbo rats that Juliet cherished like no other. She doted on them and spent much of her time teaching them tricks or watching them run aimlessly on their wheel. Aside from that, the lioness continued to busy herself with flying during the days, but her nights were becoming more and more unsettling. Mr. Brooks agreed that Juliet was much too old to be tucked in anymore, which brought a curious sense of relief to the young girl. Instead, however, Juliet dreamt of visitors in the night and shadowy figures sitting on the edge of her twin sized bed. These dreams took a toll on her by the beginning of her third year, and she often found herself wandering the castle at night instead of sleeping. <br/><br/>When she began to nod off during her more boring subjects - History of Magic was becoming a regular naptime - Juliet realized that she should seek a solution. When the winter holidays arrived once more, Juliet decided to go home. Although she loathed to leave the castle, she convinced herself it would be a pleasant vacation from Hogwarts’ stone walls. It was only when she arrived at King’s Cross station that her mother revealed that Benedict was going to be away for the whole of the holidays on business, and Juliet breathed a soft sigh of relief that Adalyn either did not hear or refused to acknowledge.<br/><br/>Shortly after Christmas, Juliet plucked up the courage to speak with her.<br/><br/>“Mum… I-I’ve been having bad dreams.”<br/><br/>“Dreams?” Adalyn muttered absently, eyes pointed downward to a piece of parchment on the kitchen table. <br/><br/>“Yeah. I can’t sleep,” Juliet replied, raising her voice a little to get her mother’s attention.<br/><br/>Adalyn rubbed the bridge of her nose before looking up with a sigh. “Well, what shall I do about it? Do you want me to make you warm milk tonight?” <br/><br/>Juliet bit the inside of her cheek, twisting the tip of her shoe into the tile flooring. “N-no. I think I’d like to see a Healer…” she shot a glance up at her mother, who was staring back with a curious expression that quickly turned to exasperation. “You want me to take you all the way to Mungo’s?” Adalyn looked at her watch. “I suppose if we leave now…” she pushed her chair back, flicking her wand to summon a large fur coat. “Honestly, bad dreams,” she muttered, locating her purse. <br/><br/>The St. Mungo’s staff was pushed to their limits with holiday disasters. Cursed Christmas crackers, turkey carving spells gone horribly wrong, and the occasional splinch from holiday travel were running the Healers ragged. It was lucky, however, that one young witch could make the time to see them.<br/><br/>Juliet sat in an uncomfortable arm chair in an office bustling with people, pulling out files and cross checking the latest magical malady. Adalyn stood in the corner, watching disapprovingly as her daughter explained that she was unable to sleep at night. She did not go into detail regarding what the dreams were about, and the young Healer did not ask. A crowd of partygoers had just entered the waiting room, tongues all swollen from a swelling solution that had been slipped into the punch as a prank. They needed all hands on deck. <br/><br/>“Well, Juliet, why don’t you take this,” she hurriedly ripped a strip of parchment from her clipboard and tapped it with her wand. A signature scrawled across the bottom of the page in loopy, gold lettering. “It’s a prescription for a draught of dreamless sleep. That should help in a pinch” she said, offering a small smile to Adalyn as she rushed past. Before she left to tend to the dozens of waiting room patients, the Healer turned back to look at the lioness. “But I want you to try and get to the root of those bad dreams, dear. I expect to see you back here bright eyed and bushy tailed when you are ready for a check in.” She had a kind twinkle in her eye that disappeared as she rounded the office door into the waiting room.<br/><br/><strong>IV.</strong><br/>Juliet slept soundly for the first time in months that night. The purple potion that was prescribed joined her on her journey back to Hogwarts, and her mother would send an owl with a new vial as needed. Once more, Juliet’s grades rose, and her quidditch game became stronger than ever. She was so well rested, in fact, that she took to spending time in the music room when she was not too tuckered out from practice. There were instruments galore at her disposal, but Juliet was drawn to the piano. She had a baby grand sitting in the family room at home, but was never allowed to play it. It started as a silly hobby, smashing keys when she took a particularly frustrating test or tickling the high pitched ones when she was in a good mood. Soon, however, she began to play along to her favorite songs; her fingers found the notes clumsily at first, but when she finally found her rhythm it made for a beautiful melody. <br/><br/>Her newfound talent did not go unnoticed by Hogwart’s orchestra instructor. Before she knew it, Juliet was adding a third responsibility to her plate. This kept her busier than ever, but she loved it. Days of classes followed by hours of quidditch and evenings dedicated to piano practice led to a very content lioness. By the year’s end, she was joyously invested in a variety of activities, and positively miserable to leave them behind for two whole months. <br/><br/>Her misery, it seemed, was quite warranted that summer leading up to her fourth year. Aside from busying herself with studying and quidditch, Juliet was forced to attend quite a few business and pureblood events alongside her well-connected parents. One event in particular was a pureblood luncheon, held at the Brooks manor to celebrate a newly elected Minister who promised to restore greatness to the wizarding community. Whatever that meant. Juliet could not stand the endless drawl of the adults. Talking politics never interested her, so instead she enjoyed the company of another young pureblood girl, Patricia Ridgewell. Juliet knew the Ridgewells quite well, as she was rather close to the eldest child, Vincent. But he was nowhere to be found as the lioness discussed quidditch with the incoming second year. It was quite curious. <br/><br/>She soon found out where her classmates had been, however. Vincent and Rowan, his cousin, had snuck away from the luncheon and up to Juliet’s room. Normally, she would not have minded this invasion of privacy. However, when Patricia lead the Gryffindor girl up to her room she found the two boys doing much worse than going through her personal items. There, in Rowan’s hands, was his pet snake Beth. Juliet had never minded the garter snake before, but dangling above the snake in Rowan’s other hand was Fauna, her beloved pet rat. Juliet did not find the situation funny at all, though Vincent and Rowan cackled as her surprised face shifted quickly to anger. Then, just as her voice was rising to put an end to their nonsense there was a sudden strike. Beth’s fangs were small, but they were certainly effective. Fauna’s terrified squeaks were put to an end and the snake coiled around its prey as everyone else in the room watched on in stunned silence. Tears welled in Juliet’s eyes until it was over, and she was finally able to signal to her body to start moving. Blinking them away, the lioness kicked the boys out at once, slamming the door behind her before she went to tend to her remaining pet. She never truly forgave Rowan for his betrayal. Even Vincent, with whom she got along much better, was largely ignored by her that summer. It was only when he surprised the lioness with a new rat, collar and all, that she accepted that he was truly sorry for what they had done, even if he did not say the words aloud. <br/><br/><strong>V.</strong><br/>The draught of dreamless sleep continued to serve the lioness well as she entered her fourth year. However, with age came even more activities for the Gryffindor girl to take on. Juliet had witnessed her fair share of parties in her earlier years, but now she and her friends were invited to join 5th, 6th and 7th years on their nightly escapades. Drinking in empty classrooms, parties in the Gryffindor common room and general tomfoolery throughout the castle introduced the lioness to a more rebellious lifestyle than she was used to. She found drinking to be a sufficient substitute for her draught of dreamless sleep, though she would wake up with that familiar groggy feeling. Juliet also found that she was getting more and more attention from the boys in her wide circle of friends, and she didn’t mind that one bit. <br/><br/>One Hufflepuff sixth year in particular took to whispering sweet nothings in the lioness’s ear, always smiling when she giggled and playfully pushed him away. Until the night that she didn’t push him away. The two were rather intoxicated, wandering the halls of Hogwarts until Juliet pulled him into the abandoned teacher’s lounge. <br/><br/>She did not see much of the badger after that, but his attention was replaced with gaggles of other boys who offered her sweet words and refilled drinks at each passing opportunity. The partying and other ‘activities’ caused Juliet’s grades to waver once more, but she managed to buckle down and emerge from her end-of-year exams with flying colors, and a quidditch cup to boot. After all, she would have OWLs to worry about next year! It would do no good letting her grades slip now.<br/><br/><strong>VI.</strong><br/>Her return to the Brooks manor that summer was lost in a whirlwind of activity. Her mother was busier than ever helping to plan banquets and fundraisers for the most promising pureblood ministry officials. Her father, however, continued to do as much work as he could from home. That summer, he was far more on edge than usual, citing difficult trade dealings abroad to be the source of his stress. <br/><br/>One day, Juliet delivered tea to his study and began to ask him about dinner plans when-<br/><br/>“Shh, Julie. I’m almost done...”<br/><br/>Juliet stepped back, then froze. She stared at her father for what felt like hours until he looked up, realizing that she was still there. “What is it?” he asked, his voice irritable. Juliet continued to stare. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. <br/><br/>“Nothing,” she replied, finally dropping her gaze. <br/><br/>Juliet exited the study with a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.<br/><br/>That night, the lioness did not come down for dinner. She took the draught of dreamless sleep before the sun even set, falling into a deep slumber that would turn her thoughts off until morning. <br/><br/>The following day, Juliet’s mother was fretting over flower arrangements for an upcoming banquet. Benedict Brooks sat in the corner of the family room, lazily reading the Daily Prophet as a teapot whistled in the distance. Juliet stood in the doorway, her mother’s chattering voice dulled from a haze that Juliet could not quite explain. <br/><br/>“They’re not just dreams, are they?”<br/><br/>Benedict Brooks looked up, as did Adalyn. However, their facial expressions were quite different. Her mother’s was one of confusion, slightly irritated at the interruption, while her father’s was blank and cold. “What dreams, Juliet?” he asked lightly, eyes roving back to his newspaper. <br/><br/>The lioness looked to her mother, steeling herself for the words that came next. “I’ve been having dreams… of someone coming into my room at night. I think they might be-”<br/><br/>“Well, that’s quite the nightmare,” her father interjected, causing her speech to falter. “Are you sure it’s not a side effect of those sleeping potions? I told your mother, I don’t fancy the thought of you all drugged up. It may be time to put an end to it.”<br/><br/>Adalyn’s eyes narrowed as she looked from her daughter to her husband as if contemplating something. Finally, she nodded, reaching out to fluff the sample bouquet that sat before her on the coffee table. “He may be right, dear. Those potions aren’t meant to be used long-term,” she stood up, smoothing out the skirt of her perfectly tailored wrap dress. “Why don’t you go up to bed and have a proper nap?” she suggested. “I’ll bring you up some lunch when you’re ready.”<br/><br/>Juliet did not realize her hands were shaking until they reached for the doorknob of her bedroom. Closing it carefully behind her, the lioness pulled out her wand and locked it before crawling into bed once more. Without the help of sleeping potions or gin to soothe her head, Juliet drifted off to sleep once more. Adalyn Brooks did not bother to wake her slumbering child for lunch or even dinner afterwards. She and Benedict agreed that the rest would be good for her. If they were lucky, she would sleep through the night. Still, Adalyn watched her husband out of the corner of her eye all evening until he retired to his study to do some last minute paperwork. <br/><br/>Juliet awoke to the click of a lock. Her door creaked open and light from the hallway spilled in, illuminating her bedroom just slightly. Benedict Brooks stepped forward as she scrambled to sit up. No no no no no no. “What’re you-?” He pressed a hand against the Gryffindor girl’s mouth, pushing her back onto the bed before placing the end of his wand against her temple. Juliet scratched at his forearm, kicking and whimpering as she tried to push him away. Something glistened at the tip of his wand, a silvery glow that she caught out of the corner of her eye. A distant voice in her head shouted not again, not again, not again. Then, she found a voice of her own. Biting into her father’s finger and causing him to withdraw his hand, the lioness cried for help. <br/><br/>This was not normal, but it was all too familiar.<br/><br/>Suddenly, Juliet felt something sharp and cold pressed against her throat. Benedict had always been a collector of strange artifacts, mostly acquired from his travels for Gringotts. This one was a particularly interesting item. A curved dagger with a jewel encrusted handle. Juliet had seen it sitting on the desk in his study many times. “If you say one more word I will cut you open,” her father growled, wand still working against her temple. Stricken with fear, Juliet could do nothing but nod. “Now, let’s see if we can’t get rid of these bad dreams.”<br/><br/>The lioness felt her mind easing up, though her heart continued to race. She had called for help already. Where was her mother? Where was… The long, silver strand grew and grew in length, yet it seemed to resist at every turn. Benedict Brooks sat over his daughter, knife in hand and clearly frustrated. Why won’t this damned thing come out? Juliet knew this would be her last chance. Pushing her father’s arm away, she jumped up, knocking his wand away and running for the door. “MUM! MUM, PLEASE!”<br/><br/>Benedict grabbed Juliet from behind and she felt a strange pressure above her stomach. The man drew his dagger upwards and it was then that Juliet realized that it was slashing through her skin. She barely had time to feel anything, or catch site of the blood that now poured from her chest because a streak of red light flew past, hitting her father directly in the face. He collapsed, and so did she. Juliet’s vision blurred, but out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother. She would be so mad about the blood stained carpet. The lioness attempted to speak. She would clean it up. She was sorry. She didn’t mean it. She would- “Shh, shhh” Adalyn soothed the lioness, wand quivering over the length of the wound. Juliet drifted off to sleep as her mother began to whisper “Vulnera Sanentur.” <br/><br/><strong>VII.</strong><br/>Juliet Brooks awoke in St. Mungo’s Spell Damage ward three days later. <br/><br/>She was poked and prodded by Healers who came and went, applying essence of dittany and administering a nightly sleeping potion throughout her stay. Most days were spent sitting in silence. At times, Adalyn was by her side, stone faced and thin lipped. Other times, Juliet was on her own, left to count the ceiling tiles and wonder about the ministry officials that lurked outside in the corridor.<br/><br/>The lioness asked no questions despite the constant bustle and murmur of activity around her. In fact, Juliet did not speak at all. Inquiries of “how are you feeling?” were met with a blank stare, and her mother had little to contribute to the conversation. Then, one day, there was a knock on her door.<br/><br/>“Mrs. Brooks?”<br/><br/>Adalyn rose from Juliet’s bedside to shake hands with the plump old witch in the doorway. The witch offered Juliet a warm smile as she settled herself into a chair beside her bed. “Hello, Juliet. Would you mind if I ask you a few questions?”<br/><br/>The next hour was a flurry of uncomfortable silences. Occasionally, Juliet would respond with a shrug or a shake of her head. She didn't remember. She didn't know. She didn't want to remember. She didn't want to know. Adalyn filled in the gaps of silence with breathy apologies until, eventually, the ministry witch rose from her seat.<br/><br/>“Thank you for your time, Miss Brooks,” she said, offering a hand that Juliet did not take. “I hope you will let me speak with you again soon.”<br/><br/>Juliet merely shrugged, wrapping a loose thread from the blanket around her index finger.<br/><br/>On her final day at St. Mungo’s, Juliet was more than ready to see a world beyond the four walls she had been confined to. Her mother spoke very little as she signed the lioness out, and it was only when they returned home and Juliet stepped over the threshold of the fireplace that she looked at her daughter. <br/><br/>“We are due to the Wizengamot early tomorrow morning. I’ll lay out your clothes for you.”<br/><br/><strong>VIII.</strong><br/>The Wizengamot trial went on for what seemed like ages. This was, in part, due to Juliet’s refusal to speak a single word. Countless lawyers, witches and warlocks attempted to pry into the young girl’s psyche, asking her to recount the horrid dreams that now crept up in the form of memories more clearly than ever, but her lips remained sealed. A few Wizengamot members suggested that the lioness was disturbed beyond repair. It was beginning to seem as if the truth about Benedict Brooks would never fully come out. <br/><br/>That is, until they raided his study. An auror-in-training located the vial first. Their high-pitched excitement at having succeeded rang throughout the cold, empty house loud enough for the lioness to hear. She and her mother, who had sat in the family room out of everyone’s way, rose and made their way to Benedict’s lair. Something glinted in the candlelight of the study, and Juliet saw in the auror’s hand a rather large vial that was swimming with a curious, silvery substance. <br/><br/>Juliet did not know why her mother collapsed into tears at that moment. She did not know or understand what the vial contained, but her mother did. Adalyn had hardly shown much emotion going forward through this whole process, but the sight of her daughter’s memories, ripped from her like so much else her husband had taken, was the breaking point. <br/><br/>The evidence was undeniable after that discovery. The trial proceeded without caution or concern. It was widely agreed among those in the know that Benedict Brooks must be locked up for good, immediately. Their hope was to have him returned to Azkaban before the summer’s end. With no time to grieve, Juliet was put on trial, asked to relive those same memories with fifty others following her to that dark, cold bedroom. She spoke, but only on command, answering prying questions and recounting the most devastating details in monotone whispers.<br/><br/>Benedict Brooks was locked away for much of Juliet’s testimony. She answered their inquiries and recounted her tail time and time again until it seemed like the story was not even her own anymore. Until it was just a fairy tale that had been passed on from mouth to ear over many countless years. Until, finally, a decision was ready to be made. <br/><br/>On that day, a chill fell over the Wizengamot, and even the halls of the Ministry itself. Juliet and her mother made their way through the visitor’s entrance as they had done so many times before, but the lioness paused at the courtroom doors. She felt a merciless cold sweep over her as she looked in. There, in a chair snaked with chains, sat her father, accompanied by two large, cloaked figures. He looked pale and unkempt, so unlike his usual self. Juliet almost pitied him as she and her mother tiptoed by, shivering in time with the rattling breaths of the dementors.<br/><br/>It was a unanimous decision to put Mr. Brooks away for life, and he went limp at the news. Juliet watched as he was escorted out by his arms, feet dragging noisily against the stone floor as the dementors carried their newest prisoner away. There was a satisfied, yet pointed moment of silence as the door slammed shut behind him.<br/><br/>Several members of the court shuffled over to shake Adalyn and Juliet’s hands. She met their condolences and tight lipped smiles with a glazed stare. Was she supposed to feel happy now? It certainly seemed that way. But she didn’t feel happy or relieved or even sad, really. She just felt empty.<br/><br/>“Will she be returning to school for her fifth year?” One witch muttered to her mother, as if Juliet were not there to answer for herself.<br/><br/>“Oh, we haven't decided-” her mother began evasively. But Juliet cut her off, speaking more confidently and steadily than she had all summer. “I have to go back,” she said. “I have to.” <br/><br/>It was then that she realized tomorrow was September first.<br/><br/><strong>IX.</strong><br/>When Juliet returned home that evening she went right upstairs to pack her trunk. She could not stay there, in that house with those memories for months or weeks or years. She needed to return to Gryffindor tower, despite her mother’s protests. She needed the warmth of the common room fire and the smell of pumpkin juice in the Great Hall and the sound of laughter trilling throughout the courtyard. She needed to find something, anything that made her feel whole again, and Hogwarts was her only hope. <br/><br/>Juliet and her mother woke bright and early the next morning to catch the Hogwarts Express. In actuality, Juliet had not fallen asleep at all, and instead watched out her window until the sun rose to indicate she could begin getting ready. Adalyn, who still had her doubts about the lioness’s return, found even more reason to suggest that Juliet take a few weeks off when an owl rapped at their window. In its beak was the latest copy of the Daily Prophet, and on the front page, in the lower righthand corner, was her father’s face. The headline read: Prominent Pureblood Sentenced To Life In Azkaban. She did not read any further. <br/><br/>Juliet was resolute, unswayed by her mother’s words. She tended to her pet rats, poking strips of celery through the bars of their cage, not touching any breakfast herself, while her mother constructed an angry letter to the Prophet’s editor. When Adalyn signed that with a flourish, the clock had just about struck ten. <br/><br/>Their arrival at King’s Cross station was stealthy as always, but not for long. When the two Brooks women crossed the threshold of Platform 9 ¾ eyes followed from every direction. Adalyn was much more bothered by the fact than her daughter, who’s feet shuffled lazily to the nearest car entrance. She climbed into the train without a word and her mother, unable to stand the starring, disappeared with a pop before the train even took off.<br/><br/>Juliet found herself an empty compartment once more, but instead of staring out the window with excitement for the year to come, the lioness curled into a corner drifted off to sleep. She awoke only to the faint tinkling of the trolley cart as the attending witch opened her door. “Anything off the trolley, dear?” Juliet stared through heavy lids and, upon processing the question after a sleepy moment of contemplation, shook her head. The trolley cart witch, however, was already holding out a chocolate frog. Juliet took it, other hand fumbling for her change purse, but the witch merely smiled and shook her head before gently shutting the compartment door and continuing on her journey down the corridor. <br/><br/>Her return to Hogwarts was plagued with whispers as she passed now. Eyes followed her from class to class, and pitying smiles from her professors formed knots in the pit of her stomach. A dreamless sleep was her only escape, and it never seemed as if the nights were long enough. <br/><br/>Juliet made half-hearted efforts to continue on with life as if nothing had happened. She attended orchestra practice, much to the surprise of her fellow musicians, but her fingers didn’t flow the same way anymore. Perhaps it was all in her head. When quidditch try-outs rolled around, Juliet was the first one on the pitch. Her fellow lions and lionesses cast her anxious glances. Old teammates and friends watched carefully as she took to the air, diving and swerving recklessly to make each shot. But it wasn’t enough. Juliet stopped showing up for orchestra practice and no one questioned her. The head of Gryffindor house pulled the lioness aside, saying that they would understand if she needed time, if she wanted to take this quidditch season off. There would always be a spot for her next year. So she quit that, too, with no plans of ever returning.<br/><br/>The last dying hope Hogwarts had left was classes, and even those could not distract Juliet from herself. Her nights of dreamless sleep were all that she could handle and so the lioness continued to sleep later and later into the day. Skipping classes for just a few more hours rest, missing meals for just a few more moments to silence her own thoughts. Professors soon expressed their concern, and the threat of being sent back home for the rest of term loomed over her. She would have to find another way.<br/><br/><strong>X.</strong><br/>It was not long before Juliet began to experiment with her draught of dreamless sleep. It seemed logical that the potion that provided her with a sense of relief in the evenings could do so during the day. She just had to find the right amount. Over the next few weeks, Juliet dozed off in many classes as she put her sleeping potion to the test. One particularly strong dosage sent her to sleep in the middle of a Herbology lesson. Neither students nor the professor noticed this until Devil’s Snare had snuck out of a nearby cabinet and began to bind and strangle the snoozing lioness. The ruckus that followed managed to wake her just enough so that she could claim to be lightheaded and stumble her way into the castle for a proper nap.<br/><br/>Eventually, however, she found her limit. Days passed in a haze as Juliet drifted through them seemingly awake. Her grades continued to drop, but either pity or hope kept professors from truly addressing the issue. Instead, Juliet was allowed all of the freedom and agency she needed to begin healing. But rather than heal, her behavior simply became more reckless. <br/><br/>Rather than take the draught of dreamless sleep as intended, Juliet would attend parties where she could easily lose herself in other substances or even other people, leaving the potion for day-time use when alternative escapes were unavailable. On the nights where she could not find solace in anything or anyone else, Juliet would take late night walks on the grounds until the sun rose. The dark circles under her eyes deepened considerably by summertime.<br/><br/>It was a wonder to many how Juliet managed to pass her OWLs. Her mother, who was determined to go about life as if everything were fine, was startled by the list of Acceptables. Even Juliet herself was surprised with the results. She had slept through her entire History of Magic essay, botched her practical Transfiguration exam and barely finished her written Charms OWL on time. Still, she had scraped through with four years of previous knowledge that had not quite left her head and, of course, the mercy of her exam proctors. <br/><br/>The summer leading up to her sixth year was one of many late nights. Adalyn busied herself with housework and renovations. The carpet in the old study was just dreadful. The whole room had to go! Hired house elves worked their fingers to the bone, scrubbing and painting and decluttering on Adalyn’s command as her daughter drifted about the house in a daze. They rarely spoke.<br/><br/>Juliet soon perfected the art of sneaking out in the evenings. Anything to get away from that house. She sped off on her broom most nights, ignoring the way the cold air whipped at her watering eyes as she flew to secret hideaways. She often found herself wandering the streets of muggle cities, balancing along the sidewalk edge as late night commuters passed by. Meanwhile, her mother ignored her empty bed, but always had breakfast ready in the morning for her return.<br/><br/>By her sixth year, Juliet was quite accustomed to doing what she wanted. Skipping classes and breaking curfew were part of her usual routine. However, her rule-breaking escalated as time went on, particularly due to her sleeping potions habit. The prescription vials proved not to be enough for the lioness’s needs. Unable to sleep at night or face the day without it, Juliet was forced to begin brewing her own sleeping potions. Rather than focus on her N.E.W.T courses, the lioness would find ways to sneak into the dungeons and break into potion cabinets in her free time. However, she soon began experimenting with more powerful sleeping potions. There was rarely a time when Juliet was not under the influence of some special sleeping brew. The relief they provided was her only source of comfort, but she always needed something stronger. Something to put an end to this. Something to keep her from ever having to wake up again. <br/><br/>Juliet’s first attempt at the draught of living death was disastrous in its own right. The lioness nearly blew up her cauldron one late night in the dungeons. However, her second attempt was much more successful. Though she knew that the potion was dangerous, Juliet did not really care. She would do anything to enjoy the endless that this draught provided. She had reached her breaking point. Only a few weeks before Christmas break began, Juliet fell into that death-like slumber she so badly craved. She was found in Gryffindor tower seemingly lifeless and the whole school buzzed with the news. <br/><br/>It was lucky that the lioness was rather adept at potions, as a poorly done draught of living death would surely end the drinker’s life. Instead, Juliet merely resembled a corpse. She laid in the hospital wing for ten days, blissfully unaware of any hurt she had caused. When she awoke, she found herself being much more carefully watched by the professors and administrators of Hogwarts. No longer could she get away with destroying herself before their very eyes. If she had any hope of moving on to her seventh year, she would have to work for it.<br/><br/>Months of frantic studying brought the lioness’s grades back up just enough for her to move on in her N.E.W.T courses, largely thanks to Vincent Ridgewell. In the wake of her downfall she found success. They were baby steps, sure, but she was still moving forward. <br/><br/>When summer rolled around, Juliet returned home for what she could only hope would be the last time. Still racked with unwelcome memories, Juliet continued to find any way out of her own head. She spent less and less time at home, though now she was berated with questions from her mother at every turn. This led to many rows and plenty of harsh words, and Juliet was glad to escape the Brooks household on September first once more. Now, Juliet has foregone the sleeping potions, attempting to reclaim parts of herself that she had lost over the years. She would try harder, she would do better, she would find some way, any way to heal in time.</span></span></div></div></div></div>