Post by doloresumbridge on Apr 30, 2009 8:41:07 GMT 9.5
hey, Dolores Jane Umbridge
what are you fighting for?
what are you fighting for?
help me out said the minnow to the trout
nick names»» Dolly, Kitten (Cornelius ONLY)
birthdate»» June 13th
age»» 49
gender»» Female
sexuality»» Straight
blood»» Pure
squib or magical»» Magical
canon or original»» Canon
member group»» Adult
view on squibs»» Against
voldemort or harry»» Undecided. She hates Harry, but wouldn’t like to be controlled by a Dark Wizard.
[/size][/ul]
please, I know that we're different
school»» Hogwarts
house»» Slytherin
patronus»» Well, you know, it was rather a long time ago, but I suppose I could tell you the story because you really wanted to know... It was in my seventh year. We had just been taught the proper way to produce a patronus, and everybody was asked to think of a happy memory. Of course I couldn’t think of one at the time- I was far too distracted by Cornelius. And as I saw him practicing the charm with his friends, I wondered if he was thinking of the same memory that I was. To this day I’ve no idea what his happy memory is, but mine is of kissing him for the first time.
We were outside after hours, so the moon was up. It was a crescent one, I believe... well it must have been, as I’d never condone going outside under a full moon. We had been walking and talking for hours, and finally, when we were just below the Astronomy tower, Cornelius pulled me close to him and kissed me. It was the happiest and most romantic moment of my life.
boggart»» My boggart usually takes the shape of a werewolf. Not that I’m afraid of werewolves, per-se, but more just their filthy blood.
mirror of erised»» I see myself standing next to Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge (a nice, big ring on my finger...) with a white, fluffy cat sitting at our feet.
amortentia»» Cornelius’ cologne, potpourri and lilacs.
discovering magic»» I’d always known that there was something strange about me. I’ve always been fond of cats and girly things, really anything pink... My parents and I lived in a rather dark house, so it was strange that after being up in such an environment that I would take a liking to fluffy kittens and bright colours. But those weren’t the only strange things about me... no, of course not. My parents had told me when I was nearing ten that I might one day start displaying signs of magical ability. Up until then, they had raised me as a Muggle child (I shudder at the thought), and so I believed they meant the kind of magic that magicians used when they put on shows at my school, or the magic that one often heard about in childrens fairytales. I suppose, now that I’ve seen what kind of magic I can perform, that it may be a bit of both. But anyway, back on topic, I became extremely excited until I was told that I wasn’t allowed to utter a word about my potential magical abilities to anybody. Well, I didn’t really have any friends in school, but I assumed that my parents meant my cat Rose (such an unoriginal name, I realize now, but ‘rose’ was just another word for ‘pink’) as well. So here I went on, killing myself by thinking that I wasn’t to tell my best cat friend about this magic that I may or may not possess... my parents were idiots anyway- it was entirely their fault.
So the year went, my cat none the wiser on my abilities as they started to present themselves. I was angry with my mother one morning for one reason or another, and my bowl of cereal, without my touching it, flipped itself upside down, spilling milk and cereal everywhere, and partially onto my cat, poor thing. That was it for a little while, then. Nothing else happened. Then, nearing my eleventh birthday, whenever I was extremely happy, the radio would turn on and play a light little tune, and when I was extremely angry, the lights would go out, or something equally strange. I believe I even popped a light bulb once...
On my eleventh birthday, I received my letter from Hogwarts, and I was enthralled. I read the letter over and over again, finally realizing that I was a witch. It would have saved me a lot of time if my parents had just told me that from the start, but with their level of stupidity it was a wonder that they even knew I was their daughter.
[/size][/ul]
we're not that different after all
eyes»» An icy blue that can stare you down and make you admit things that you didn’t know you were guilty of.
body type»» A little on the larger side with small feet and short legs.
distinguishing features»» Some say that I look like a toad, but Cornelius says that I’m beautiful in my own way, whatever that means...
[/size][/ul]
not your everyday circumstance
dislikes»» Harry Potter, half-breeds, children, Dumbledore, Muggles...
strengths»» Calligraphy, organization, public speaking.
weaknesses»» Performing difficult spells, her short temper, losing control of situations, handling of said situations.
habits and quirks»» Chewing on her quill (when no one’s looking, of course), fiddling with her hairbow in awkward situations, straightening her dress, ‘hem hem-ing’.
secrets»» She’d secretly rather that Harry triumphed over Voldemort, even though she hates him.
five words»»
[li] SADISTIC "Well... As much as I hate to admit it, I do take quite a bit of pleasure in watching my ‘detention students’, as I call them, in”
[/li][li] SWEET "Around Cornelius, anyway. Upon just meeting me you immediately get that impression, don’t you think?"
full personality»» Dolores has a dangerously sweet exterior. To simply have a run-in with her, you would think that she is one of the nicest people you would ever meet. But upon getting to know her, you would discover that she isn't as she first appears. Concealed under the pink and the fluff is a horribly evil woman that will stop at absolutely nothing to rid the world of all half-breeds, impurities, and what the hey, while you're at it, muggles as well. She can cover up this side of herself, however, by putting on her sweet front, even those sure of her evil can be persuaded otherwise. [/size][/li][/ul]
i've fallen from my nest so high above
hometown»» London
parents»» Elvira and Trent Umbridge, both purebloods.
siblings»» None
other family»» None
family pets»» Rose (deceased)
full history»» Dolores Jane Umbridge was born on a rainy Monday, June 13th, 1962 to Elvira and Trent Umbridge at St. Mungo's in London, England. She was later brought home to the family's quaint, cottage-like house in Little Hangleton. Dolores never got to know her mother, as she died of an unknown cause three days after she had given birth. To this day, Dolores still blames herself for the death of her mother, which has possibly contributed to her terrible ways.
When she was three, Dolores discovered her love for kittens and pink when, as a Christmas present, her father brought home a small, pink, fluffy kitten. Dolores named her kitten Rose (after the colour), and with time, they became the best of friends. In fact, Rose was Dolores' only friend. She confided her innermost thoughts to the pink ball of fluff.
When the time came for Dolores to attend school, she, at first, did not want to go, thinking that she would be unable to bring along Rose. Upon finding out that she needed a pet to bring along with her, Dolores immediately started packing her trunk- happily. Together, she and her best, most loyal friend made their way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Dolores was sorted into Hufflepuff. However, her first year was not meant to be a happy one. Unfortunately, she liked keeping to herself, not allowing another soul into her sacred little world, and by doing so, gave the students (of all houses) a reason to pick on and play pranks on her. The most cruel of those pranks was levitating Rose (the cat, in case you've forgotten) over the Whomping Willow. Dolores was tied up and sat on a rock, having to witness the cat falling into the monstrous tree and being ripped to pieces.
Since that fateful day, Dolores has always worn pink, as a tribute to her furry, best friend, and has never owned another cat, for fear of losing it again. Moving into her fifth year, she met Cornelius Fudge, who was also a Hufflepuff, and wondered where he'd been her whole life. Finally, in their sixth year, Cornelius asked her out (she was a lot prettier back then, and he a fair bit more handsome), and they dated until the end of their seventh year. A day before they left to go home, Dolores found Cornelius and another girl together. Heartbroken, she longed to confide in her best friend, Rose, and thought that perhaps death would be the best thing. Luckily, Cornelius found her (tipped off by a couple Gryffindors) before she jumped off of the Astronomy tower, and gave her a long, heart-felt apology, also offering her a job alongside him at the Ministry. She gladly accepted, and they remained good friends- no longer boyfriend and girlfriend.
Once Cornelius was appointed Minister for Magic, Dolores (age 44) became his undersecretary, and stayed faithful to him, hiding the feelings that she still had. Some five years later, things started to get out of hand. It had been said that Voldemort was back, and because Cornelius did not believe that the rumor was true, neither did Dolores. She attended the trial of Harry Potter, whom had used magic underage and in the presence of a muggle against two dementors that had shown up unexpectedly in Little Whinging. Dolores didn't dare inform the Minister that it had been she whom had ordered the attack on the boy. It wasn't because she hated the child, but because Cornelius had just started seeing another (the fifth that year, she counted) woman, and she acted on a whim.
In September, she was assigned the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, and though she did not get to work closely with Cornelius, she knew that she was doing him a favour and, if she proved herself in that task, she knew that she could eventually wrap him right around her finger.
Now that squibs are allowed to enter Hogwarts, Dolores isn’t sure what to think. She can tell that the standards of the Wizarding World are dropping drastically, and feels the need to take it upon herself to get rid of the squibs and other half-bloods/breeds once and for all.[/size][/ul]
we were one cell in the sea in the beginning
age»» 16 (almost 17!)
experience»» About six years collectively.
contact information»» donutabcdefg@rocketmail.com (not IM or anything... just email
)how did you find us»» Proboards Support as a PM answer to my ‘ad’.
anything else»» squibs will own the school ... (SO not ;D)
roleplay sample»» something average. tell us where it's from as well. :][/size][/ul]
Dolores Umbridge sighed exasperatedly as she sank into the French-style, pink-accented chair that resided behind her large oak desk. She looked over it briefly, making sure that all five of her black quills were in their canister, and that each of her gold pens were perfectly aligned and parallel to the doily beside them. Only once she had successfully arranged her desk did Dolores finally relax and gaze up at the two-hundred-some kitten plates that lined the walls, hanging there by pink, silky ribbons and, of course, magic.
A nagging voice in her head caused Dolores' gaze to drop back down to her desk and to a small, perfectly square piece of pink parchment, on which was written in her neat cursive, that she was to expect Mr. Potter at exactly five o'clock that evening. She sighed for the second time since entering her office, but this time out of disappointment.
Truth be told, she had completely forgotten about the Potter boy's detention, and had, instead, planned a trip to the Ministry to visit Cornelius. It had been so long since she'd seen him... Dolores glanced at the framed picture of him that sat so perfectly atop a heart-shaped doily. She reached out and ran her stubby fingers over the frame, then carefully lifted the picture and brought it in close. Dolores held Cornelius' picture to her heart, staring dreamily off into space.
A sudden, horrible thought burst into her mind, uninvited. What if, at that very moment, some young, incompetent Ministry worker was snogging him? Her Cornelius! Rage coursed through Dolores, causing her to tighten her grip on the picture and it's frame until she was on the verge of snapping them in half. This wouldn't do! She would simply have to cancel Potter's detention... But that would disappoint Cornelius. He had sent her there to restore order and civility, not to worry about what he was doing every waking moment. He had entrusted her with the coveted position of High Inquisitor, and by doing so had made her aware that he trusted her. If he could trust her, then she would trust him, even if that meant going against her better judgment.
Dolores gently placed Cornelius' framed photo back on its heart-shaped doily, then turned to look at a kitten plate clock that was installed above the door. Five minutes to five. She had exactly five minutes to think before the crazed Harry Potter would walk through the door, (with a smart remark, no doubt). She hated children -all children- with a passion, but Harry was one of the select few that she loathed entirely. Perhaps it was the fame that had befallen him so early in life that was turning him into a self-obsessed, hard-headed... 'Hero', she believed, was the term that best described Potter -to everyone but herself. Dolores knew that the dementors she had ordered on him had failed, but maybe, just maybe, the quills and a certain 'Unforgivable' curse might set him straight.
Pulled out of her reverie by a sharp knock on the door, she straightened up in her chair, straightened two of the six gold pens, then quietly cleared her throat. "Come in," she called sweetly, though 'sweet' was not a term that Dolores would have chosen had she been asked to describe how she was feeling. The door creaked open and in walked the arrogant Harry Potter, dressed in the black robes that were adorned by the ugly maroon that was Gryffindor House's colour. "Please have a seat, Mr. Potter," she gestured to a writing desk in the corner that looked very much like her own, only
smaller. "You are going to be writing some lines for me, today."
-Just an Umbridge RP sample that I always use.
A nagging voice in her head caused Dolores' gaze to drop back down to her desk and to a small, perfectly square piece of pink parchment, on which was written in her neat cursive, that she was to expect Mr. Potter at exactly five o'clock that evening. She sighed for the second time since entering her office, but this time out of disappointment.
Truth be told, she had completely forgotten about the Potter boy's detention, and had, instead, planned a trip to the Ministry to visit Cornelius. It had been so long since she'd seen him... Dolores glanced at the framed picture of him that sat so perfectly atop a heart-shaped doily. She reached out and ran her stubby fingers over the frame, then carefully lifted the picture and brought it in close. Dolores held Cornelius' picture to her heart, staring dreamily off into space.
A sudden, horrible thought burst into her mind, uninvited. What if, at that very moment, some young, incompetent Ministry worker was snogging him? Her Cornelius! Rage coursed through Dolores, causing her to tighten her grip on the picture and it's frame until she was on the verge of snapping them in half. This wouldn't do! She would simply have to cancel Potter's detention... But that would disappoint Cornelius. He had sent her there to restore order and civility, not to worry about what he was doing every waking moment. He had entrusted her with the coveted position of High Inquisitor, and by doing so had made her aware that he trusted her. If he could trust her, then she would trust him, even if that meant going against her better judgment.
Dolores gently placed Cornelius' framed photo back on its heart-shaped doily, then turned to look at a kitten plate clock that was installed above the door. Five minutes to five. She had exactly five minutes to think before the crazed Harry Potter would walk through the door, (with a smart remark, no doubt). She hated children -all children- with a passion, but Harry was one of the select few that she loathed entirely. Perhaps it was the fame that had befallen him so early in life that was turning him into a self-obsessed, hard-headed... 'Hero', she believed, was the term that best described Potter -to everyone but herself. Dolores knew that the dementors she had ordered on him had failed, but maybe, just maybe, the quills and a certain 'Unforgivable' curse might set him straight.
Pulled out of her reverie by a sharp knock on the door, she straightened up in her chair, straightened two of the six gold pens, then quietly cleared her throat. "Come in," she called sweetly, though 'sweet' was not a term that Dolores would have chosen had she been asked to describe how she was feeling. The door creaked open and in walked the arrogant Harry Potter, dressed in the black robes that were adorned by the ugly maroon that was Gryffindor House's colour. "Please have a seat, Mr. Potter," she gestured to a writing desk in the corner that looked very much like her own, only
smaller. "You are going to be writing some lines for me, today."
-Just an Umbridge RP sample that I always use.
