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General Information
Character Name:
Polly Mortimer
Type of Character:
Adult
Age:
34
Date of Birth:
17 February 1889
Blood Status:
Muggleborn
Residence:
Shirley, Southampton
Family:
Polly Mortimer is quite blessed to have both her parents alive, living out in the countryside. They are both Muggles, alongside her younger brother who lives in London.
Polly is married to a Muggle as well, whom she lives with and is aware of her status as a witch.
Occupation:
Caretaker, Transfiguration master
Personality & History
Personality:
*Analytical
*Caring
*Cautious
*Unwavering
*Lawful
*Empathetic
*Indulgent
*Methodical
History:
TW: Alcoholism and war-time PTSD
Polly has always adhered strictly to the law and rules. She always understood that they were in place for the protection of the people. This lawfulness pervades her whole self, save for the rare occasion where she breaks or bends and feels guilty as a result. Polly ultimately believes that it is her duty to serve the community.
Polly feels emotions quite deeply. She has an unyielding wealth of empathy for all persons magical or not, and would help out anyone regardless of her own problems or priorities.
Growing up, she became engrossed with puzzles and any type of broken machinery or tool. She would spend hours upon hours attempting to fix miscellaneous objects, and would even go as far as to break things just to fix them. No matter how long it would take her, she would assess and obsess over a problem until it could be solved.
Growing up in a working class Muggle family was tough. Her father worked long hours in a factory, and to this day has a persistent cough that leaves him fatigued. Her mother would pinch pennies, offering to do laundry and chores for the more well-off families within their city.
Prior to receiving her Hogwarts letter, Polly would often help her mother on these jobs. When not working with her mother, she would pursue a meager education at the hands of the local Muggle church. Her clothing growing up mostly consisted of the second hand school uniforms, and her younger brother wasn't much better off.
Most of the time, Polly's mother would find work at an estate or home anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. If the household held any children Polly's age, she would do her best to either stay out of the way of their daily activities. There was only one time she felt a true bond with one of the children.
It was just after her eighth birthday. The young girl had been diligently assisting her mother on a deep cleaning of a particularly aristocratic home. The youngest of the family was a young boy, just a little older than her. The two would ditch their respective chores and studies, and play together. The boy didn't care that Polly had patchy and dirty clothing, and she didn't care that he had an attitude towards his uptight and distant father.
The young boy held a burning desire to get his father's attention, and would often act out. The two were inseparable, until one day...
Polly had found a busted telephone within the home. The eight year old girl was convinced that she could fix it up brand new. She found a quiet part of the parlor in the home, and got to work on the machine. She demonstrated her work-flow to her friend, who seemed more interested in the end result and not so the much the process.
It was towards the end of a working day that Polly successfully repaired said machine. Her friend had expressed his pride in her, impressed by her skills.
"I believe in you!" He exclaimed, and promised to present the telephone to his parents at the first opportunity. The young boy promised that he would try to convince his parents to hire tutors and educators for her, so they could study together.
Polly was shocked beyond belief, that her friend would do so much for her. Her mother tried to settle her down, afraid to get her daughter's hopes up. The two would argue relentlessly over the coming days, as the little girl just couldn't fathom the possibility of anything going wrong.
It happened a week later. During a shift at her friend's house, she finally got to meet the stern and distant parents that employed her mother. Nothing could have prepared her for the devastation that was to occur: Her friend, whom had sworn to boast of her skills, presented the telephone to his parents, and lied.
He claimed that he had fixed it.
Anger and confused raced through Polly. How could he have lied to her? To steal her accomplishment? All rational thought left her mind, and in her rage, the windows and light bulbs of the house shattered.
Glass flew everywhere as she screamed and cried. The family accused her of being possessed by the Devil, but before any drastic measures could be taken, several people magically appeared baring wands and strange robes.
Polly and her mother would later come to learn that they were members of the The Department of Magical Accidents & Catastrophes, from the Ministry of Magic. There were Obliviators who came and meddled with the mind's of the aristocratic family, and Reversal Squad Members who repaired the shattered glass fixtures and tidied up the home to it's previous state.
To ensure the entire debacle stay hidden, Polly and her mother were instructed to have pretended that they had never been employed there. A member of the squad remained following the whole incident, and explained the bottom-line truth to Polly's whole family, save for her little brother:
That she was a Witch. She had performed Accidental Magic in her childish fit, and in a few short years, receive a letter regarding her acceptance into Hogwarts.
At Hogwarts, she had been a Hatstall. It seemed to go back and forth between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. The young Polly couldn't find herself satisfied with being only one, and not both.
"Can't you be kind and fair, and intelligent? Why must it be divided? How can I choose only one House to embody?" She would argue back, with a scrunched up face. The Hat made a decision following the nonstop questioning.
"Why don't you bring some of that warmth to the House of the Eagles?" It chuckled at her, before ending the internal discussion.
"RAVENCLAW!"
Her Hogwarts career was spotted with the usual school-age shenanigans: Studying lots at the Library, spending Winter Holidays at the Castle with her friends, and even the once in a blue moon Detention.
Her childhood hobby of tinkering had bloomed into a passion for Transfiguration. Changing creatures furs and feathers into different colors led into different animals and inanimate objects.
Don't get it wrong, she did decently at other subjects such at Herbology or Defense. But her true energy was spent at Charms and Transfiguration, and so upon graduation in 1907, she chose to pursue a Mastery in Transfiguration studies.
It was during her years of studying for her Mastery, that she met her husband.
He was a kind and silly Muggle man, who got by working for the Muggle printing press in the town of Southampton, London. Polly was smitten, and with only hours to go before their wedding on April 19th, 1913, she told him the truth: that she was a Witch.
Their love persisted and all was well.
Until the Great War broke out. When it came time for Great Britain to ask their men to go to war, Polly's husband was no exception.
With her support, he left.
The letters were rare, and for Polly, life went on. She continued studying, and eventually completed her Mastery. Her parents -finally- retired from working, her younger brother got married, and the whole time she felt torn.
When her husband finally returned, some time after 1915, he wasn't the same.
Shell-Shock, the Muggles had called it. He had frequent night terrors, and turned to drinking. The man that Polly married was destroyed, and as the years had gone by, to the present day, he only continued to deteriorate.
Some days were better than others.
To the Magical world, Polly's husband came and went, and returned happy and normal. To her coworkers and colleagues, he returned to his work at the printing press.
In the present day, Polly does whatever she can to try and help her husband. But wizarding potions don't work, and she can't schedule him a visit to the Mind Healers. He refuses to visit any Muggle doctors, and holes up in their once happy home.
Her husband has now become a problem that she cannot fix.
Polly is reaching her breaking point. Perhaps something better is just around the corner, she tells herself, and carries on.
Prompt Response:
"MORTIMER! Did you finally finish charming that telephone?" Her boss called out, as he quickly shuffled his briefcase closed.
As it happens, Polly Mortimer was running a bit late. Her boss had asked her to present a fully functioning telephone to the higher-ups. Making that happen in their magical workplace was a bit time consuming, and so the witch had shown up to the office bright and early to put the final touches on the machine.
The young adult resisted the urge to huff, and straightened up from her desk.
"Yes, Boss, I perfected it. The meeting isn't until 2pm, right?" She asked, a little annoyed. She waved her wand, performing a quick tempus charm to check the time.
2:03pm, it read back at her.
"CRAP!" She snapped her wand back into its holster, and didn't fight when her boss swept around the cubicle to grab said telephone.
"We need to go, NOW!" He urged, giving the telephone a quick look over. The blonde nodded, moving to gather her coat and belongings.
"I doubt Whickett is even there yet." Her boss commented about an annoying higher up. Polly chuckled a bit at that, agreeing quietly. As the two passed by other harried looking colleagues, Polly made sure to greet the people she liked, and to nod politely at the ones she did not. She double checked her pockets, ensuring she had everything necessary on her person.
Wand? Check. Wallet? Check. Coin pouch? Check. Notecards with her written speech that she was about to spiel to the higher ups? Check.
The witch pulled out said notecards, and as she carefully walked and dodged other workers, began rereading the details.
Whatever her boss was saying faded out, as she focused on the handwriting. It probably wasn't that important, anyways.
Miscellaneous
Other Characters
June Hargrove
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