RIVERA, Gabriella

[Gabriella Rivera]

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{ A B O U T . Y O U }

Name: Najooj
Gender: girly
Age: eighteen
E-mail: [e-mail]
Twitter: you has
Years of RPG Experience: over 6. i forget
Other: we need to change this Removed by staff
also i know everything is in orange; this is totally not me pushing for a house, it's Gabby's favorite color XD

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{ Q U I C K . Q U I Z }

How did you find us? --
What about ISS inspired you to join? --
Do you have any suggestions for us? --

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{ A B O U T . T H E . C H A R A C T E R }

Name: Gabriella Alisa Rivera
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Year: Fifth
Face Claim: Lea Michele

Canon or Original? Original

Facial Properties:

H A I R !

While not a vain person, Gabriella is quite fond of her hair, and takes good care of it. It's really the only thing that she pays much attention to, looks-wise. The locks are quite thick and she keeps them long, falling below her shoulder blades. She dislikes short hair in general, especially since a) you can't do anything at all with short hair, b) it wouldn't look quite good on her, in her opinion, and c) she trims her own hair - thankfully she does it pretty well after a lot of practice so that it's not noticeably uneven - and she would never, ever be daring enough to cut too much lest she completely ruin it and she has a bit of a fear that if she cuts too much it would never grow back. A silly paranoia, true, but what paranoia isn't silly? Her hair is a deep, rich brown, although in the sunlight it can sometimes appear to have a reddish tint. It goes well with her skin and she's never thought of changing from the natural hair color. She likes to keep as much as she can natural about herself, which is why she strictly sticks to conditioner and the occasional spell when she's feeling fancy. It's naturally quite straight, but during those fanciful times that she has she likes to give it a little curl, sometimes going a bit over-board and make it completely curly although it never stays that way for too long; within an hour, her hair becomes wavy and by the third hour the waves are completely gone. She conditions and brushes it regularly - 100 strokes before she goes to bed or else it would resemble a bird's nest in the morning. When it's humid, it tends to frizz, despite the potion she uses, much to her annoyance. Usually she keeps her hair down with the occasional headband pushing it back away from her face. Sometimes during particularly warm days she would gather it up into a high pony tail to keep the strands from sticking to her neck, since sweaty hair simply isn't comfortable. She likes to play with it a lot when she's concentrating in class or doing her homework or even just sitting around in reading. Whether she's twisting a few strands around her finger, or tucking it behind her ear every now and then, or simply running her hand through it, she's almost constantly doing something to it. After a particularly grueling study session, she could end up with her hair being all over the place - quite a comical site, really, although easily fixed with a few brush strokes.

E Y E S !

Set beneath a pair of thick, dark eyebrow's, Gabriella's eyes are a warm, chocolate brown that reflect exactly the type of person she is. They say that eyes are the windows to a person's soul and, in Gabriella's case, this is quite true. She's never found a reason to hide her feelings and, even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know how to anyway since it would be painfully obvious should you look into her eyes. Wide and seemingly innocent, they often have a gently sparkle of amusement or playfulness when she's surrounded by her friends. During her shyer moments, however, she often keeps the downcast, taking advantage of her long, thick eyelashes to better shield them, even going as far as tilting her head a little so that her hair would further cover her probably-blushing face, as if by avoiding eye-contact with the person who had elicited such a reaction would help her control herself more quickly. She has a tendency to walk around with her eyes on her feet and that often leads to accidents, whether she's bumping into another person or into the wall or doorway - bad habits die hard, she supposes. Now in her fifth year, though, she at least manages to maintain eye-contact with a new acquaintance for longer than two seconds. Ironically enough, when it's someone she knows well and happens to be a close friend, she's all for eye-contact. In fact, she prefers to look her friends in the eye when she speaks to them, almost piercingly at times. She believes that if someone isn't looking her in the eye they are either upset, uncomfortable or lying to her, and thus would request that they do look her in the eye. Plus, eyes are her favorite feature on any person, and it's the first think she would notice about a person's physical appearance. She's a believer in being able to tell what a person is like and what their intentions are just by looking into their eyes since she believes it's ridiculously difficult to hide one's true feelings from one's eyes, no matter how in control they are of their facial expression.

N O S E && L I P S !

If there is one feature that Gabby absolutely had to pick on, it would be her nose. Unlike most girls' noses, hers is not small and pert and cute. It's actually quite large and she always felt a little self-conscious about it when she was younger, although she grew to accept it, especially when she realized that she has a generally large-ish face and thus having a large-ish nose fit in quite well. The fact that she was often ridiculed at her old school is a large factor to her self-consciousness, but it's been so long that she's forgotten it for the most part, and now that she's mature enough to accept it she knows she'd never dare change it – whether magically or otherwise – even if she could. Her nose is part of who she is, and changing it would be ridiculous and she almost feels like she wouldn't be Gabriella anymore since Gabriella didn't have a cute, pert nose – no, no, Gabriella has a bulbous nose, and she's darn proud of it, too usually! Beneath said bulbous nose are quite full lips. Gabriella, like almost everything else, has a slightly larger-than-normal mouth although, unlike her nose, her mouth is quite appealing in its unusual thickness, with her bottom lip fuller than the upper. They're naturally a light pink, and almost always have a natural sheen since she has a tendency to lick them, unable to stand dry lips for too long. Her mouth is often curved in a smile, or parted to reveal reasonably white teeth in a playful grin, which also shows off a dimple in each cheek.

T H E R E S T !

Overall, Gabriella has a pleasing face to look at. She knows she's not the most beautiful fifteen-year-old out there, but she knows she's at least pretty enough. She's naturally tanned due to her Mexican heritage, although, just like everyone else, too much sunlight and she does get sunburned. She learned that the hard way and, after a few days of flinching and "ouch"ing her way around, she vowed never to do anything "so stupid" ever again. Her face is a little more square-ish with a rounded chin and ample cheeks. Her face is always plain – she has no idea how to apply make-up and had always been too embarrassed to ask a girl friend. The last time she had tried, she'd ended up stabbing her eye with "one of those pencil things" and made another vow of "never again". Besides, she's only fifteen. She doesn't need make-up. Right?

Physique:

B O D Y !

One of the reasons that Gabriella is so easy to miss is her height – or lack there-of. Either her growth spurt just hasn't kicked in yet or she has some sort of stunted growth because, at fifteen years old, she's still a tiny 4'10. Not four-foot-ten and three-quarters, not four-foot-ten and a half, not even four-foot-ten and a quarter; just 4'10. She measures herself weekly in hopes of finding that she'd grown even half an inch but it's been a year and still no such luck. She's come to the point where she has accepted the fact that she'll probably be the shortest fifth year there ever was, and that she simply will never hit the five feet mark. Then again, there is a tiny hope that she might just shoot up next summer and find herself growing six inches all in one go. Judging from the rate of her growth, though, it's quite doubtful. And once she's settled with that idea, she learned to live with it and even goes as far as to joke about it by calling herself "funsized". Too-high-to-reach books were made reachable when she dragged over a chair and stood on it. She tended to gravitate towards foot-wear that had a boost to them, preferring high heels over flats to give her those precious few inches to get to the wonderful "five feet" height. Still, being so short means she can easily climb up people's backs without worrying about being too heavy – yes, she likes to climb people, not just trees. Or, well, not just people – her close friends. Who're tall enough, that is. She absolutely loves heights, which is ironic since she's so short. She just likes the view better. Gabriella's torso is short, giving way to long legs – long for her height, that is, meaning she's not exactly a fast runner. Still, her legs are toned due to ballet. As a young girl, she had always been fascinated with the graceful – but difficult – sport. Of course, her father could never afford ballet classes, and she didn't dare ask him for fear that he'd try to accomplish her wishes, knowing that it would be impossible. And so instead Gabriella would borrow books from the library, anything she could get her hands on about ballet. She copied the pictures and descriptions in the books and after reading and studying dozens of books on the subject and occasionally watching it on TV, she knew the basic steps. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to thrill Gabriella and make her fantasize about being a ballerina – although never too seriously, because the career track she's considering is that of a Healer and all.

While her height might have been stunted, Gabriella's body is pretty shapely for a fifteen year old, with nice, subtle curves that have the potential of growing out into quite a lovely body. Even though she is a vegan, Gabriella makes sure she has a well-rounded diet with the right amount of nutritious food. So, despite her seemingly limited choices, she manages to remain at a healthy weight for her height rather than ending up as skinny as a pole. Her arms and legs are strong, from both ballet and her hobby of climbing trees – the strength also helps when she's launching herself onto someone's back. Especially if it's a particularly tall person. Everything is small about Gabby, really – she has tiny hands, tiny feet, short arms and a short neck. Which she's grateful for since, say, having big feet would make her look incredibly awkward.

C L O T H E S !

You wouldn't think someone like Gabriella Rivera would be the type of girl to prance around in short skirts – but, evidently, she is. Gabby hates trousers with a passion – wearing them, that is. She'll put them on when the occasion calls for it, but prefers not to. She finds them too "constricting" and "likes a breeze around her legs" and thus prefers skirts and shorts. She doesn't wear them to attract attention – she wears them because they're comfortable. Admittedly, intentions or not, her style does tend to attract attention, namely because it is quite…questionable. She's never grown up with a mother figure, and for the first ten years of her life she hadn't had a very close girl friend, and thus her taste had been developed on its own seeing as she did her own shopping and altered her own clothes, so the clothes she wore were pretty much her own version of what "nice" was. When she moved to England, her aunt was the one who knitted her sweaters and managed to supply her with plain, normal-looking outfits, for the most part, although there is the occasional unicorn sweater – which Gabby adores to pieces, of course. She actually only owns a few skirts and taught herself a simple transfiguration spell to slightly alter the style or change the color to change things up rather than spending money she could put elsewhere on clothes. What other people might portray as tacky or plain ugly, Gabriella thinks is quite cute, and is pretty much oblivious to what others might think. And so she ends up wearing checkered skirts, polka-dot t-shirts, ruffled blouses and flowery dresses, among other outfits. You get used to her ridiculous style eventually. She hopes.

Wand Type: Rosewood, seven inches and three quarters, Unicorn hair
Wand Expertise: Potions
Patronus: Red panda
Boggart: Her father dying, and she can't do anything about it.

Personality:

S H Y !

You can see it right off the bat when you first meet her: Gabriella is painfully shy. She'll almost never be the first to introduce herself unless she has to and, when you first meet, she's quiet and says as few words as possible. She'll probably avoid looking at you and instead look down at her feet and shift her weight slightly from one foot to the other. She's prone to chronic blushing, too, although she hopes her naturally tanned skin is enough to hide that. In that sense, Gabriella might come off as unfriendly, which pains her almost as much as her shyness because that's not it at all. She simply has a deep fear of saying something stupid and going back to the way things were before she came to Hogwarts. Of course, unlike back then, now she had friends – not a whole array of them since she's not exactly Miss Popular but there are quite a few who were, thankfully, patient enough to wait until the shyness phase eased and her true colors shined. Her shyness is not part of Gabriella's natural personality. It's simply a product of years of ridicule and loneliness that had driven her into her own shell. Arriving at Hogwarts and actually being equal to everyone else – well, not counting the fact that she's a muggleborn – was as much of a "culture shock" as coming to England. She didn't know how to deal with it and automatically rushed back into the safety of her shell, not sure how to deal with all these overly-friendly faces. The trait stays with her even now, no matter how hard she tries to kick it. It's almost as if something triggers in her brain when she sees a new face and she becomes absolutely tongue-tied, the age-old paranoia rushing back. Depending on the person, she might stay and simply answer with quiet responses or she might quickly stammer out an excuse and run away. God forbid she's approached by her current crush – provided they are not someone she was comfortable with before the feelings were sparked. Then she'd probably be reduced to a stuttering, blushing mess before she made an excuse and ran away if she could. With someone she already knew? She'd be pretty much the same, minus the running-away factor. Usually. Of course, it doesn't help that her crushes tend to last quite a while. She's not the type of person who gets fleeting crushes – her crushes actually mean something and she truly likes the person, so her feelings for him can stretch out for a year, or even longer. She's only ever really had two "serious" crushes – occasionally, she can get fleeting ones, though. She's not a flighty person by nature, but she is still just a girl.

P L A Y F U L !

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If it weren't for her timidity, Gabriella would be a total social butterfly. As soon as you crack through her shell, Gabby can be just as sociable as Marlene McKinnon. Well…okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch. She's still plenty sociable, however. When she's around her friends, she seems to have this undeniable…energy coursing through her, transforming her into a playful bundle of joy. She can chatter away like the best of them, laugh, joke around and be a generally fun person to be around. That's the real Gabriella, she feels – not the quiet, awkward, blushing girl that she can't seemed to shake off. It frustrates her that she can't be the way she desperately wants to be all the time, because that's when she feels comfortable in her own skin. That mute, timid Gabriella doesn't even feel like her – it feels like she's impersonating someone, or like a different side of her has taken over. Only, not quite so much in schizophrenic terms since she's pretty sure she's normal, for the most part. She is improving, however. Slowly, but surely, she's starting to open up to people more easily. Now instead of needing two or three weeks to get used to you, she might feel more comfortable after a week, although that really depends on the person once again. She's, admittedly, a little envious of other girls who can easily form friendships based on first meetings and who can flirt up a storm with their crushes, because she knows she'll probably never get to the point where she can do the same. No matter how much she doesn't want it to be, and no matter how different she might appear once her shell is gone, her shyness is part of her personality, and it's a trait that will probably always be there in some shape, way or form. She just needs to learn to accept it. And she needs to feel that people accept her to open up to them. As soon as they do? She's all giggles and then the next thing you know, she's asking if she can climb you and demanding piggy back rides.

H E L P F U L && G O O D F R I E N D !

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Once you've befriended Gabriella, that's it: you're friends for life. She absolutely adores her friends, every single one of them, and would make it a point to at least say hello once per day even if they're in a different year or house or both. She has a special place in her heart for every single one of them and would literally do anything for them. Despite her shyness, Gabrielle does like to be around people a lot. It doesn't have to be a large group – as a matter of fact, she prefers more intimate hang-outs where it's just one or two people and her. In a large group, she'd probably stick to the person who's closest to her and mainly listen to the conversation, not really giving any input if there are people she's never met before. If it's a group of friends, she's a lot more natural. Friends aside, Gabriella loves helping people in general, and would do anything for them anyway. She's the type of girl who has a hard time saying no. If you ask something from her, she'd do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked. She'd never wonder about ulterior motives, neither would she consider how hard it might end up being for her. If she thinks it'll help you, make your life easier and/or make you happy, she can literally risk anything – even if it's for a complete stranger that she's never met before; think Rachel giving the creeper her panties so he doesn't print the story about Quinn's pregnancy. Making people smile and helping them is one of her main goals in life, really. It's why she wants to be a Healer when she graduates – she wants to help as many people as possible, and she figures that Healer is the best career-track to do so. She's soft-hearted, and thus simply can't stand seeing someone upset and would offer anything from a box of chocolates to a hug to lending an ear to bend. Should she come across a beggar, she'll hand him all the money in her purse and then some. In that sense, her kindness and patience is seemingly endless. She's not naïve, though. She knows people can take advantage of that – the thing is, she simply doesn't mind. If she's not getting hurt in the process, then why not? She can help one more person along the way, and she truly believes that, by helping one person at a time, the world might just be a better place to live in. Which, admittedly, is quite naïve, but who isn't at least a little naïve at fifteen?

C H I L D I S H && M A T U R E !

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I know, I know – they're two completely contradictory traits. See, for the most part, Gabriella loves to have fun – the sort of fun that includes bouncing around and climbing trees (or people), for example. She likes to act like a child because, well, children have the most fun – and blondes, evidently, but since she's not a blonde she'll stick to generally childish behavior. And by childish I mean her general bubbly-ness, her occasional short-attention span, and what she views as fun. After all, you don't see many fifteen year old girls climbing trees and hanging from them upside down just for the fun of it, or pouncing onto people's backs and demanding piggy back rides. She doesn't need sugar for that boost of energy; she has plenty of her own just bubbling at the surface, waiting to be released. In some ways, she is rather naïve. No matter how many books she reads which contain more…explicit content then one would normally find in a novel, actually applying it to real life is not something that crossed her mind. For one, she's quite the prude. Short skirts aside, Gabriella is determined to save herself for "the one", and rejects the idea of "casual dating" or whatever it is that quite a few students seemed to be participating in these days. When – or if? – she gets a boyfriend, she fully expects him to be understanding of her view on relationships. The idea of sex makes her squirm uncomfortably because she just doesn't get it. Oh sure it sounds all beautiful and romantic and perfect in the books, but no matter how many descriptions she reads, she still doesn't get where everything…goes. Her naive mind simply can't wrap around the idea because she just can't imagine it. And it's not like she spends a lot of time thinking about it. Not to mention that, to this day, some content never fails to make her blush and hastily look around, as if afraid someone might catch her out in the act and make mistaken assumptions. Not to mention her whole "do anything for anyone" ideas is quite naïve as well. On the other hand, Gabriella is quite mature for a fifteen year old. Growing up with her father out of the house more often than he was in it, she had to learn how to take care of herself. She knows how to make her own, vegan food. She knows her responsibilities as a student. She just…has her playful, childish moments. And then her naïve moments. But she's mostly mature. Sort of. Not really.

H A R D – W O R K E R !

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Gabriella might have big dreams – becoming a healer, marrying someone she loved and having at least six kids in a house with a white picket fence – but she still has her feet firmly glued to the ground. She knows she can't just sit around and expect her dreams to come true all by their ownsome – no, you have to work for it. And Gabriella is perfectly willing to work as hard as she needs to work to accomplish her dreams. She hates getting bad grades in any subject. The first time she got an "A" on one of her essays, she burst into tears in one of the girl's bathroom stalls. Admittedly, she'd only been twelve at the time and her reaction wouldn't be quite so powerful should she get a similar grade now, although she would still be quite upset. She likes being the teacher's pet and while her grades aren't perfect - she highly doubts she'll be getting straight O's in her OWLs this year – they're still good enough to qualify her to be a tutor, since she just works so hard. Her learning capacity simply isn't as large as some of the smarter students and thus she can't absorb as much to get the best grades, but she doesn't mind. Just as long as she's getting fairly good ones that'll insure her career as a Healer. She doesn't have to be perfect. Gabriella knows she's flawed, and accepts herself for that. She'll strive towards being the best Gabby she can be, that's for sure, but she certainly doesn't strive towards perfection because she's well-aware that perfection simply does not exist.

P U S H O V E R !

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Gabriella hates confrontation of any kind. She hates arguing with people and making them angry, and she hates feeling like she had upset someone. It literally makes her feel queasy and, after any confrontation that she might be forced into, she always feels the need to run to the nearest toilet to empty the contents of her stomach. Thus, she tries to avoid it at all costs. She has a tendency to agree with people and, unless she knows the person very well and so is completely comfortable with them, rarely voices any disagreements she might have lest it starts an argument. She doesn't like to refuse anyone anything and goes along with what people say. She does have an opinion, she's simply afraid of voicing it, not wanting to a) sound stupid and b) once again, spark an argument. As mentioned earlier, she likes to make people happy, she likes to help people and arguing is definitely not the way to do so. Clearly, her hesitation to argue with people means Gabriella is one of the biggest pushovers you'll ever meet – and she knows it, too. She knows that people can – and do – take advantage of her inability to say no, she knows most people wouldn't do half the things she agrees to do, she knows people can – and do- walk all over her; she just doesn't mind. It doesn't bother her. If anything, she's glad because at least she's helping them in some shape, way or form. And, as corny as it sounds, happy people make her happy.

Likes:
+ Heights; "I know, I know, ironic right? Since I'm so tiny. But I guess if I wasn't tiny, I'd never appreciate heights as much? Or something like that, hehe. I used to make Papi carry me on his shoulders allll the time."
+ Climbing; "I just love climbing stuff. Trees, people, you name it, I'll climb it."
+ The color orange; "I don't know, I've always thought yellow was waaaaay too bright, y'know? It's like WHOA I'M BRIGHT LIKE THE SUN. Orange is a happy color, but not like...annoyingly bright. Does that even make sense? Gosh."
+ Nature&Animals; "I don't know, I just love it. I guess I'm a huge tree-hugger. I like running around barefoot on the grass and in the sun, and I love, love, love flowers and I love allll sorts of animals like even the ones people might think are gross like spiders and stuff, I love them alllll because even things that aren't pretty need love! It kills me that people go around squishing spiders because they're 'hairy and icky'. Spiders are just as good as people, and have just as much right to live! It's why I'm a vegan, see. I just can't stand the idea of eating animals that have been slaughtered! And like eggs? Toootally can't eat those because it'd be like eating baby chicks that just never had a chance to live! And I'm lactose intolerant, so it's not like I can have milk or cheese anyway. I think God made me that way so I can be a proper vegan, see. (:"
+ Helping people; "I just love helping them and making them happy! And maybe they'll follow my example and help OTHER people so that the world can be a better place."
+ Reading; "...well okay I don't like reading EVERYTHING 'cause like some books are just boring. But I loooove romance novels, especially the Mills & Boon novels. They're umm...okay, they're my dirty little secret because their uhh content is a little...questionable. Sort-of. So I hide the one that I'd be reading at the time under my pillow so the others don't find it. Heh >.<
+ Singing in the shower; "My voice isn't amazing - actually, it's not even close. But I dooo love to sing!"
+ Summer; "I don't like feeling cold."
+ Babies; "They're the most adorable creatures EVER! I'm going to have six. AT LEAST."
+ Unicorns & Pandas; "Pandas were my favorite animals; and then I discovered the existence of unicorns!"
+ Mr. Snuggles; "I still sleep with him. Only sometimes, though."
+ Potions; "It's my best subject (:."
Dislikes:
– Feeling helpless; "I hate it when I feel like there's nothing I can do to help someone, or they're upset and I don't know how to comfort them."
– Confrontation; "Makes me sick. No, really. It makes me feel queasy."
– Her shyness; "I love people, and I love talking to people, so it just annoys me when I go mute around someone I've met because I do want to talk to them, I just...don't know how."
– Humidity; "It makes my hair go frizzy and blehhy."
– The color black; "It's not even supposed to be a color! It's like...lack of color!"
– Her picture being taken; "I don't think I'm photogenic. At all."
– Thunder and lightning; "...okay, I'll admit, I'm terrified of storms."
– Shopping; "I know, I know. A girl who doesn't like shopping? I was never into it, really, since we could never afford nice things and since now me and my nana make my own clothes, it's not like I really go and, I don't know, it's just so boring walking around aimlessly looking at clothes. I dooo like pretty jewelry, though!"
– Wearing trousers; "I know, I know, another weird dislike! This is going to sound even weird buuuut I...I like a breeze around my legs! It's not like I don't own a pair at all. I do! I just...tend to wear skirts and shorts more."
– Flats; "I need all the extra height I can get, and flats don't offer that, haha. I'm good with sneakers, though. I can't climb trees while wearing high heels now can I?"
– When her feet get cold; "I don’t know why, I just do."
– Sleeping without a blanket; "Without a blanket, my feet would get cold?"

History:

P A R E N T S !

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Cesar Rivera and Marisol Garcia always knew they'd get married eventually. They had been neighbors ever since they had both been in diapers, living in a poor community in the north of Mexico. They were almost literally joined at the hip; you rarely saw one without the other. Cesar was two years her senior and was ridiculously over-protective of her. When her first boyfriend broke her heart, he was the one to console her and then, later, without her knowledge, he would find the offender and proceed to break his nose. When Marisol asked what on Earth had happened to her ex-boyfriend, Cesar begged ignorance. Mari was strictly against violence and he simply couldn't stand upsetting her; nothing would upset his Mari. His sister, his best friend, the love of his life. He wasn't sure when the lines started to blur. He wasn't sure when friendship and protectiveness became passion and love. It seemed to happen over night; one moment he was staring at her fondly, almost the same way a brother would look at a sister, and then the next he was falling over himself because he finally saw what all her other douchebags of ex-boyfriends saw: a beautiful, vivacious young woman. Cesar suddenly had no idea what to do with himself. How was he supposed to act around her now that he was attracted to her? Just her smell, that sweet vanilla scent, drove him wild. He felt like a green lad salivating after the gorgeous actress on TV and yet he was supposed to be twenty and experienced enough not to get over-excited whenever he saw her. For two months he attempted to ignore his baser instincts. Marisol was his best friend and he'd be damned if he ruined that just because he thought she was the most gorgeous being that ever walked the planet pretty. But then, one night, he'd gone a little too eager with the alcohol and Marisol was the one tucking him into bed in the tiny little apartment that he was struggling to pay the rent for that they'd moved into together after his parents had died and he'd had to move out of their tiny house into an even tinier apartment, and Marisol had moved in with him because, "she couldn't stand to be without him". While he wasn't nearly as openly emotional, and thus was unable to voice it, she knew he felt the same way. And thus there they were, he drunk and she tucking him into his bed and then he was suddenly tugging her down and kissing her and it was all a blur from there.

There was no denying his feelings after that night. Oh sure he could've pretended he didn't remember what happened. He could have pretended it was just a mistake and meant nothing. But the moment he'd opened his eyes and been greeted with her beautiful, peacefully sleeping face, all thoughts of pretense flew from his mind and the only thing he could think of was that he wanted to marry this woman. And so, he did. It was a tiny, cheap affair that only had the witnesses and priest, but it was enough for the both of them. Between his job as a janitor at a public elementary school and hers as a kindergarten teacher, they barely managed to survive; but they were perfectly content and in love and somehow that made everything easier to deal with. They started putting away money, little by little, preparing for a family that they desperately wanted. They kept putting it off, however. They wanted to make sure they could properly feed and clothe their daughter, but things were tough and Marisol wanted a daughter or son of her own. And so they tried. Nine months later, March 17th 1962, they were blessed with a beautiful baby girl whom they dubbed Gabriella Alisa Rivera.

D A U G H T E R !

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Gabriella was everything they had wanted and more. It broke Cesar's heart that he couldn't spoil her like crazy just like any other father should, but even back then Gabby was perfectly content with the simple life. He bought her her first proper "brand new" toy when she was two years old – a stuffed panda that they named Mr. Snuggles for her since she slept with him every day since. Gabriella seemed to gravitate towards stuffed animals, paying no mind to the other, more elaborate toys – all she wanted were the cuddly teddy bears. And so, whenever they had a little extra money pooled together they could spoil her with, Cesar and Marisol would get her a new stuff animal that she named and cuddled with at night. Their lives definitely weren't luxurious, however. They were barely making ends meet and were holding onto their dingy little apartment by the skins of their teeth. And yet, they remained content, because they were a loving - albeit small – family. Cesar longed for a son, of course. As much as he loved Gabriella to bits, he had always had the same fantasies any father has – of playing baseball and rough housing with a son of their own. Still, he knew it was impossible. They were barely surviving as it was. And as disappointed it was deep down, the disappointment was easy to brush off when he looked into his daughter's youthful face and into his wife's beautiful eyes and he realizes, once again, that they were everything he ever needed. He didn't know what he had done to deserve two such beautiful, wonderful women in his life, but whatever the reason he was grateful, and he hoped he never lost them because he didn't know if he would be able to stand that.

Unfortunately, life didn't always go the way you want it to.

T R A G E D Y !

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They never saw it coming. Sure, Marisol had been complaining about feeling faint and nauseous quite a lot, but Cesar had never seriously wondered about it. And then, a few months following the start of her symptoms, she fainted at work and was rushed to the hospital. And then they said the six-letter word that everyone feared and despised: cancer. Cesar was stunned; cancer? How could she have cancer? They were the perfect little family, they were so happy, and she was so young, and she was so beautiful, and Gabby was only five years old, and – no, no, it had to be a mistake, he told them. There was no way she had cancer. Test her again, he fairly screamed. Test her again, test her again, test her again. They had to escort him out of the hospital because he was starting to scare everyone else, and once he calmed down he broke down in front of the hospital doors, a sobbing, shivering mess as the information hit him like a truck; his wife was dying. Because even if it was curable – and the chances of Leukemia being curable were close to zilch, they didn't have health insurance and certainly couldn't afford treating it, even if he did get a second job, he still wouldn't be able to afford it and oh Dios he couldn't lose her. Marisol was his everything. She was all he had left. His parents were dead, his sister had been whisked off to England by the prissy little English prat who'd gotten her completely smitten for him and was liable to break her heart any day now; but that was just the cynic in him speaking. Marisol was literally the only family he still had, what was he going to do without her? How was he supposed to raise Gabriella all by himself? He couldn't raise her by himself. He just…he couldn't. He could barely take care of himself, how was he supposed to take care of a five year old girl? What was he going to do when she became a teenager? He wouldn't know how to deal with a teenager girl. Gabriella needed her mother. She needed Marisol. He needed Marisol. He couldn't – he couldn't – he wouldn't – he didn't want to – he just couldn't lose her. She was his everything. She was the light, she was his entire world, and in his grief, for just that moment, he forgot all about Gabriella and became as selfish as the next human being who considered only his own horrid fate.

And then he pulled himself back together, walked right into that hospital room, grabbed Gabby and Mari's hands and whispered a prayer to God, begging him to save her.

A year later, Marisol Garcia-Rivera passed away in her own bed with her loved ones weeping crocodile tears around her.

C H I L D H O O D !

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Losing a mother at six years old was pretty hard. Gabriella couldn't fully grasp the concept of death just yet, no matter how many times her father tried to explain to her. He kept saying she was gone, but then she would naively ask when she was coming back, and he would tell her she wasn't, and she'd ask why, and he'd say because she had passed away, and she'd go back to being confused because she didn't understand how that could be. How could it be that her mother, who had been right there, on that bed, breathing, now be buried under the ground, never to be seen again? It just didn't make any sense. She had to come back. She had to. But after a week, and then two, and then a month, she began to realize that maybe her mother wasn't coming back after all. Maybe she really had gone to that wonderful place called Heaven. Except, how could it be a wonderful place if her mother couldn't come back to her because they wouldn't let her out? It didn't make any sense to her, and as the days passed after the realization she simply grew more and more upset because she just missed her mother so much and her father was hardly ever around because he had taken a second job – "for you" he would say but that didn't make any sense either because the one thing she wanted for her was her father being around for longer than a few hours each day. She particularly hated being alone. Their neighbor taught her the basic knowledge – a type of home schooling. Well, all she really did was teach her how to read and write and so Gabriella filled her free time with reading the books her neighbor had at her disposal and the rest of the time playing with her few stuffed animals – her only real friends. She was too afraid to venture out of the house alone, so she didn't really know anyone her own age. But she did watch them. Occasionally, she could hear them shouting in the street and she'd rush to the window and peer through the blurred panes, making out their tiny figures playing jump rope and tag and she'd yearn to join them but the thought terrified her because what if she wasn't accepted? It seemed that she would have no choice but to find out anyway when her father suddenly returned home and announced she would be going to school – the one he worked in, he told her. Seven year old Gabby was over the moon – she would finally go to school and finally meet other girls and maybe they would let her play with their toys if she brought along hers – except for Mr. Snuggles, he was special and had to stay at home, she couldn't take him out – and perhaps she'd get to play jump rope with them and perhaps she could show them some of the ballet tricks she had been working on and they would be impressed and ask to be her friend. Filled with these wonderful images of friendship and fun, Gabriella all but skipped into school the first day. She couldn't have possibly expected that the janitor's daughter would be treated as if she was little more than the dirt on their shoes.

To say that Gabriella was hurt would be an understatement. Hurt and very, very confused as to why the girls turned their noses up at her whenever she tried to talk to them. They all kept saying "But you're the janitor's daughter" as if that was somehow a bad thing. As if that made her equivalent to dog poo or something. She just didn't get it. All she knew was that she was suddenly shunned; that exactly what she had been afraid would happen, had happened. They didn't accept her. She was too weird, too poor, she was the janitor's daughter. Gabriella cried herself to sleep that night, and then begged her father to let her off school, saying she didn't need it. But he was adamant and so she went. Soon enough, she taught herself how to become invisible – not literally, although sometimes it seemed that way. If she kept her head down and hunched her shoulders and didn't look at anyone, then they ignored her existence. She would eat her lunch alone in a corner and sit in the back of all her classes. It became more of a habit so that suddenly she wasn't making herself invisible – she was just being herself and being invisible came with that. It frustrated her sometimes because she realized that she did have something to offer to the world and sometimes she wanted to scream at the other students to notice her, really notice her as Gabriella Alisa Rivera and not 'The Janitor's Daughter'. But then she remembered the looks they gave her and her voice was suddenly a muffled squeak that refused to get past her throat and she was back to being The Janitor's Invisible Daughter, and remained this way for the next three years of her life.

And then her salvation came, strangely enough, in the form of her Uncle Donald leaving her Aunt Inez.

N E W - B E G I N N I N G S !

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Aunt Inez was heartbroken. Her husband, whom she thought had loved her, suddenly left with an abrupt note informing her that he had run off with someone who understood him better. Completely shattered, Inez had written to Cesar, seeking comfort and asking him to come to England because she simply could not bear to come back to Mexico after so many years. He didn't have to think twice; his sister was the only family he and Gabby had left and he was definitely not the type of person to run out on someone when they were in need. She paid for their journey with the little money she had saved during her marriage. She sold her house and they moved to a smaller apartment in a poorer neighborhood, putting the money she'd gained from the sale into a trust fund for Gabriella as she had no children of her own. For the next year, they lived comfortably enough. Cesar managed to get a job as a mechanic – a step up from janitor, in his opinion, not to mention it was what he had always wanted to be at any rate. Inez wasn't much of a mother-type figure, having never had one herself. And Gabriella, while a sweet child, was incredibly difficult to deal with. She kept to herself a lot and whenever Inez tried to speak to her, the girl would shy away. It took several months until she'd finally loosened up; she was now carrying conversations instead of responding with shrugs and murmurs. Gabby's English was broken, at best, and so they decided that a year of home-study would be best for her until she got a firmer grasp on the language. Gabriella didn't mind – quite the opposite. She wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the idea of going to school anyway. Oh sure, her father wasn't a janitor anymore, but deep down she felt like she would always be The Janitor's Invisible Daughter. It was an awful feeling to have. With the help of Inez and a friendly neighbor whom she warmed up to surprisingly quickly and whom she dared to call her first ever real friend, Gabriella's English improved in leaps and bounds. It wasn't near perfect, of course, but her speech was at least more English than Spanish. Her father had begun believing that she was ready for school when the letter came, informing them that Gabriella was a witch and inviting her to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

At first, Cesar had thought it was a joke. Magic? His Gabby, a witch? Obviously someone was trying to pull a prank. And so he threw away the letter. But then another came. And he threw that away. But they just kept coming, and finally, just as he was starting to believe that he'd go insane if he found another stupid letter, a visitor came knocking. It was a tall man wearing funny-looking clothes and a pointy hat. Since when is it Halloween in July? he thought to himself as he let in the stranger, feeling wary for some reason. An hour full of explanations later and Cesar was accepting the fact that the letters had not been pranks, and that his daughter really was a witch. When he thought back to it, he could remember strange things happening. Things moved when Gabriella cried. Her toys magically mended when there was a small rip. Tiny things that he'd never given much thought to until now. He would have never imagined that it was because she was a witch.

Like her father, Gabriella received the news with disbelief. She'd always known magic existed – she didn't know how, but it simply had to exist. But she would have never imagined that she could perform it. And now here there was a strange-looking man telling her she ought to come to Hogwarts to learn to control her powers. Powers! Her, having powers! It was unbelievable! And yet, true. The next thing she knew she had all her supplies – and Mr. Snuggles – and she was boarding the train from platform nine and three quarters after running through a supposedly stone barrier.

Something told her Hogwarts was going to be full of surprises. And she couldn't wait for the new life it would offer her.


Sample Post: See posts by Lily Evans, Benjamin Burke, Kieran Sullivan, Isadora Ackerman or Olivia Thompson please (:

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{ C O N T R A C T }

I solemnly swear that I, NAJOOJ, have read the rules, understand clearly what my responsibilities are now that I am joining ISS, and will abide by these standards set by the staff.[/color][/blockquote]

[Professor Albus Dumbledore]

hufflepuff!

durrr. even if her favorite colour had have been green or
red or blue or anything else (;