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Lauren Burdett

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  • Full Name
    Lauren Meredith Burdett
  • Birthdate - Day
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  • Year Level
    Fifth Year
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  • Played By
    Natalie Dormer

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  • Status Counter 2
  • IC Post Count 15
  • Playerx Sadrienne
  • Plot Wants
  • Birthdate Day 20
  • Birthdate Month 2
  • Birthdate Year 2003
  • Manual Age 0
  • Unknown Age
  • Pronouns
  • Occupation
  • Local Hero 5
  • School Superstar 1
  • Class Champion 1
  1. Robin? Now she was Robin? Lauren didn't understand, but she was loathe to query it. Asking the question would just mean Amber had a reason to talk more, and Lauren wasn't overly keen on that. "This is what I wear in my own time. When I do not expect to be bothered," she said, pointedly. The pygmy puff stared back at her, vast pools of empty black, and Lauren understood. There was no winning here, only mutually assured destruction. If that was how it had to be, though, she supposed that was how it had to be. Amber's protest made her break her gaze away, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Then your cousin needs better taste in pets," she said, dismissively. "Something less troublesome. More noble. Like a horse." Horses were, obviously, the perfect pet. Her father was yet to let her get one, but she was working on it, still. She tended to the gorgeous specimens at the nature reserve now, something she looked forward to. Horses just got it. They didn't ask dumb questions or call her names that weren't hers. They were proud and strong, dignified. "Besides. If your cousin chooses to kill you, that is not my concern." Lauren's answer was brutally honest. She still had the pygmy puff by the scruff of the neck, and made no effort to obstruct it as it threw the twig back at Amber. Fair punishment for moving the arm she had only just put back, Lauren figured. Yet it seemed that Amber wasn't going to calm down and get moving unless the puff was contained, and so Lauren tore more from the bottom of her skirt, until the ragged edges hung almost too high on her thighs. She didn't seem to care, deftly swaddling the pygmy puff in the material like a well restrained infant, or a straight-jacket. Once bundled, she tucked it under her arm. "Pick up the pace. It will not do to be out here after dark," she said, urging Amber to walk faster. Sooner they got to help, the sooner she could make Amber someone else's problem.
  2. Stunt... granny? Lauren blinked, though surely by now she shouldn't be so surprised or taken-aback by the nonsense that came out of Amber's mouth. It likely wasn't worth asking about, and so she left it. Adele's house wasn't quite in the bush, but did back on to it---picking through the side tracks and into her back yard would be far easier than aiming for the main road and walking into Narrie that way. She was still hoping that Lillian would make an appearance, she could swear she felt the woman hovering somewhere near by. That didn't mean much, though. Lauren knew from her own time on the edges of existence just how long Lillian could spend observing, and not lifting a hand to assist. "Get up...?" Was Amber talking to her? Lauren couldn't see anyone around called "Damian", so she had to assume that. Maybe the girl had hit her head so hard she was seeing someone who wasn't there? Or had become terribly confused and thought that Lauren was someone called Damian? Either way, Lauren knew she was dressed quite differently, so it almost made sense. "You do not think I wear uniform at all times, do you?" This outfit was comfortable. Free. Much as Lauren liked the perfect presentation of a spotless school uniform, it wasn't comfortable. And it wasn't even for herself, really. It was so that people knew, without having to ask, that she was in control. That she was the headmaster's daughter, the ideal student and everything that a girl of her ability and talents should be. The image was exhausting, ensuring that not so much as a hair was out of place, or that no dust or dirt had marred her pristine collar. Here, out in the bush, where there was no one to see her - it was okay to be dirty. Relaxed. To literally let her hair down and tangle in the wind. But the fuzzy demon was at it again, and while Lauren appreciated the terror's desire to repeatedly smack Amber (who wouldn't have such an impulse, after all?) the sound of Amber's protests was intolerable. She stopped walking, grabbed the pygmy puff by the scruff of the neck and held it in front of her face until her own unsettling grey eyes could stare deep into the black abyss. "You will behave," she chastised the struggling thing. "Or you will find yourself in the river. Do not test me."
  3. "The mother of Adele," Lauren answered curtly. She didn't really think it was that weird that she had family that could, and would, hide in the background until they were needed. She had spent so long being that person that it was second nature to her. Normally all she would have to do was call Lillian's name and there she would be, but it seemed that Lauren was really being punished. Or Lillian just didn't care. Both, probably. Lauren grunted in annoyance, still looking about incase the woman was merely tardy and not ignoring her. Nope? Nothing. "I was here alone. Lillian would be able to get us safely to help swiftly, but it appears," Lauren looked sharply about, certain that her grandmother was there and listening. "She has better things to do." There was nothing left but to strike out for town, and hope that the world opened up and swallowed her whole. How much worse could this experience get? No doubt Adele would take some perverse joy in being the one who had to assist, Lauren was absolutely dreading that moment. She dusted dust and blood from her hands, wiped it off on the edges of her tattered skirt, and began to walk. At which point, she realised she hadn't even asked Amber if she was okay, broken limb aside. Should she? Was it really necessary? "You are okay to walk, yes?" she asked reluctantly. "Perhaps Lillian will decide to be helpful before we reach the road." Another sharp look around. Still not sign of the elder woman. Well, there was no helping it. Amber needed medical attention, daft sod that she was. And then there was that fuzzy thing, which Lauren was absolutely not comfortable with. She felt like it was staring into her soul, getting ready to launch from Amber's shoulder and take out her eyes with that stick. .. Would that be so bad right now? "The scrub is most worn down this way," Lauren added, gesturing to a subtle pathway that had been trampled through the bush by successive walkers. It would be faster, and less likely for Amber to fall over and hurt herself more.
  4. "For once, you are correct," Lauren said witheringly, and picked her way over through the sticks and leaves. One hand reached out to the injured arm, as if she meant to set and heal it herself---but stopped short as she scowled and muttered foreign obscenities under her breath. Right. She couldn't do that. Stupid Lillian. She was stuck out here in the middle of the bush, with Amber and a broken arm that she couldn't do anything about. They would have to go in search of help, and this was not Lauren's idea of a good time. "We will need assistance," she said in English, before turning away from the girl and staring out into middle distance. "Lillian! Lillian!" she called, turning sharply around to check every direction to see from which the woman would appear. Lauren never assumed that Lillian wasn't around, that was usually the safer way to go about life. Lauren scowled when her grandmother did not appear. She had no doubt the elder woman had heard her call, and was likely watching, but had decided not to meddle in this precise moment. With no explanation to Amber, she faced the girl again, and tore out the bottom of her skirt until a long strip. "Be still." Lauren commanded, holding the arm firmly in place as she fixed a make-shift sling. Not one whit of care was given for Amber's potential pain, only the efficiency and efficicacy of the sling itself. Simply because one could heal things easily did not mean one should not learn to do them manually---that learning had come from Anna. Lauren had wondered when in any time, space or reality that might actually come to pass, and yet---here she was. Ensuring Amber didn't further damage her arm with a well-practiced sling. "As Lillian is not heeding my call, we will need to walk. The nearest place for assistance is..." Lauren felt her insides curl up and die. This day was a joke upon her soul. "Adele's. We will make for there."
  5. Lauren loved the bushlands. She loved that eucalyptus smell, the crunch of twigs and leaves beneath bare feet, loved sitting on the highest branches of the oldest trees and observing everything below as if she were queen of the ants. With her magic cut off, she could no longer easily make it to those high places, but wandering among the trees still brought her back to that sense of freedom that she so terribly missed. Having a family was good and all, but they tended to expect things of her. Like being at home for dinner, going to bed at a particular hour, attending classes and generally maintaining a schedule that was not on her own terms. Unless there were particular tasks to be done, Lillian had merely expected that she keep her watch in whatever way Lauren saw fit. This change still felt so claustrophobic by comparison. At least she had this. The bush. She walked with her shoes slung over her shoulder, tied together by the laces. The girl who was always so perfectly presented in classes and about the school, looked more like a wild child in her long-sleeved white dress, muddied feet and ash-brown curls blowing about in the wind. The whisper around the school was that Lauren didn't even know what dirt was, much less had ever seen it. Those same whispers assumed that she was adverse to working hard, would crumble at difficult decisions, possibly faint if she broke a nail. Lauren let them whisper, because underestimation at that scale was a crucial flaw that could be exploited in future. Thus, it was also important that none saw her here. That would ruin her reputation as a prissy princess, as well as force her to share her bushland time for the day---which was utterly insufferable as far as Lauren was concerned. Her father asked her daily if she had made any friends yet, and each night she gave the same answer. She had not yet come across anyone who she believed was fit for friendship. She was a little ways away when she heard the yell, the crackle and crash of something falling through branches, and the inevitable thump to the drought-hardened ground. Her first instinct was to turn and wander off in another direction, pretend she had heard nothing, and continue on her walk with the freedom she had come for. And yet... who else would there be out here? Curiosity called, and it drove her to sneak closer to the source of the sound, pressing herself against the cover of a tree trunk as she peered around it and... if such a thing were possible, her heart did an eyeroll. What was it about Amber that the girl was so permanently in strife? From her vantage point, Lauren could see that the arm was not okay. They were a distance from the school, and also from town. Why was the girl so deep in the bushland anyway? Had she followed something shiny into its depths? Should Lauren have left a trail of breadcrumbs for her to follow back? No... Lauren cursed herself for this. She didn't want to. She really didn't. But Amber was injured, and her father would be deeply disappointed if he knew she had allowed the girl to suffer out here alone. Her lips curled into a scowl, she stormed across with her arms crossed. "Do not grab it like that," she said sharply. "You are making it worse."
  6. Lauren rolled her eyes dramatically as Amber spoke about her "baby". What rot. Was there any hope for this girl? Any time Lauren thought there might be, Amber seemed hell-bent on destroying it. She held her words, however, an unexpectedly mature moment from the girl, while she listened to the professor speak. This seemed simple enough. Find the box, remove the incantation. Was this really what passed for education here? Lillian had put her through these drills and such from her earliest days, she couldn't comprehend not knowing this. Naturally, Lauren assumed that this meant that witches and wizards also learned this early, or should have. Had her father pushed her into a beginner class? The boxes began to move, and suddenly... she couldn't find hers. Behind her smug composure, Lauren's ego was falling inward. Crumbling on itself from a great height. Her eyes darted frantically from one box to the next, trying to identify the one that had only just been on her desk. They floated near her, and zoomed away in a panic when they weren't familiar, adding to the zig-zagging chaos of the boxes flying about the room. Call a box toward her without a wand, yes---she could do that. Easily. But find a single box floating among many? Maybe it was a trick. Maybe the box didn't matter. Maybe it could be any box. Banking on that, Lauren selected a box at random, positioning it at the absolute center of her desk. Now, she just had to dispell the magic. Right. Wizard magic. That made things a touch more complex. But she could do this. Lauren closed her eyes, muttering softly under her breath and gesturing precisely at the box, which... promptly blew up into a puff of coloured chalk, spraying a humiliating rainbow all across Lauren's perfect uniform and meticulous hair.
  7. Lauren was a picture of focus and innocence, ignoring Amber's strife as if she had nothing to do with it (of course she didn't, what nonsense to suggest that she could have!) and placed the little locked box precisely in the center of her desk. Tucking a strand of hair behind one ear, she examined the box with quiet curiosity, before sitting perfectly still, hands clasped across the desk as she made the lid dance up and down as it opened and closed and opened again. Showing off, but in that ever-so obnoxious way where she simply sat there and repeated the task, not even bothering to draw attention to herself. As if she was too bored by the simple (to her) task to even bother bragging. Around the classroom, students were getting mixed results. Some opened it easily, others struggled. Some were getting so frustrated with the boxes that they threw them to the ground. Lauren simply sat there, watching the waving lid until that too got boring. She turned, finally acknowledging Amber and Meadow, checking briefly to see if Amber had been at all injured by intense contact with that horrible bag. "That would not have happened if you had got rid of the bag," she noted airily. "I believe I did warn you."
  8. Well now she was running late. Still on time, but late enough. This subject was one her mother, and grandmother, insisted she do. Lauren couldn't understand why, especially given her current situation. Was the whole point just to humiliate her in class? They knew she couldn't cast at the moment, Lillian had made it that way. Nevertheless, Lauren would not disgrace herself by being late. Her shoes were spotless, her uniform perfectly pressed. Her Sturt tie was aligned so absolutely to the center that she might well have used a ruler to get it right. Lauren cast her eye about the room as she entered the doorway, soft curls bobbing either side of her face as she assessed the situation. Not good. Her lips pursed into a petite frown. She should have got here earlier. Now she'd stood in the doorway too long, it was becoming painfully obvious that she didn't know who to sit with. Lorelei, of course, would have been her preferred choice. Alexander possibly her second, though he was overly sympathetic to the librarian. The only other person she really knew, was... ... Amber. People were starting to stare, recognise her dilemma. She needed a reason to have dithered this long. Lauren lifted a hand, gave Andrea a sweet smile and a delicate wave. "Good morning, Professor," she said, as if she wasn't internally agonising over seating choices. "Daddy and I hope you're settling in well, I'm very excited to be in your class." She wasn't. Nor had she and Alan discussed the new professors. It was something to say, something to explain why she was still standing here like an idiot. She had to make a choice. It was only for the duration of the class. There were no seats near enough to Lei, Alex was probably going to try and get her to reconcile with her mother, so Amber it was. Lauren fluttered across the room, sliding herself into the spare seat on Amber's other side as if she'd been meaning to all along. Once seated, she ensured her books and belongings were arranged just so, and pushed back any of Ambers that had wandered over into "her" space. Hands folded on her desk, she threw a look back to Lorelei, feeling comforted that the girl was here. And the small trickle of power that leaked from her was like water to her thirst. Tapping into it, Lauren kept her eyes directly ahead while her magic swept all of Amber's belongings to the floor. Wandless Magic? ... Check.
  9. The girl was mad. Stark, raving mad. Maybe it was her limited upbringing outside of the "regular" world, maybe it was the fact that her mother was a librarian with a secret love for romance books---but Lauren could not comprehend the enjoyment that could be found in fiction. As Amber listed off the possible sources of pop culture, Lauren merely shook her head. She had not read a fiction book, played a video game, watched any shows or films. What was the point? None of it was reality, and therefore it didn't count in the grand scheme of things. "So popular?" Lauren raised a perfect eyebrow. "No wonder this world is at war. Too much attention focused on what is not happening, not enough care to fix what is." The assessment seemed fair enough to Lauren. It was logical. She didn't understand why it wasn't so clear to everyone else around her, the flaws in the system. Alas, they were all too busy being buried in fiction, it seemed. It certainly wasn't that Lauren couldn't read---she could. Her favoured reading material was just.. factual. In fact, her favourite book at this present moment was a guide to interior design. Amber's bag was still ugly, and that cap was... Lauren tried not to look at it. "Is this stuff in the library here?" Lauren asked after a moment, a new crusade forming in her mind. Here, she could do the Australian wizarding world a true favour. Eliminate the rot from the library and then students would be far less likely to indulge themselves, they would have to read things healthier for their minds than this fictional trash. A smile turned up the corners of her lips. Yes, this was a good plan. She could help her father make this school a better place. It was so simple too! Of course, it was only step one of a bigger plan, students would no doubt have their own sources of material, but it was a start. "You will take me to it, yes?" she asked, a dazzling smile thrown Amber's way.
  10. Some slow-brained people left a few cards out with some chocolate outside my door. I'm burning the cards, do you want the chocolate? I don't really need them.

  11. Lauren had debated with herself a long time over what time she ought to make her way into this class. Her father was forcing her to take it, as an introduction to proper wizarding culture. And then he had gone and asked the librarian to teach it this time around. Lauren wasn't blind enough to miss the clumsy manipulation involved in getting her in a room where she would be expected to treat Adele as her superior. She had thought at first that she would flout the rules entirely, and arrive at the very last minute---but this would be no good for her personal reputation. Lauren had no desire to be branded as disobedient simply for the sake of making a point. No. Also, her father would probably be disappointed at lateness. She swanned her way in, an excruciatingly neat pile of books placed on her desk. The colours matched in a pleasing and contrasting way, like something out of a magazine. She sat on Lei's other side, throwing a single genuine smile at the girl before delicately tugging a pristine history textbook from the pile, ensuring all of the other books were spaced in the stack with military precision, and turned the hefty tome to the marked page. Her eyes skimmed the page, before she looked up. Sat so perfectly straight, shoulders back, and lips held in a prim frown. Lauren didn't raise her hand, or wait to be called on. When silence fell, she simply spoke up. "The school also allows miscreants such as yourself to instruct new generations," she said coolly. "I would consider this a negative impact on wizarding society as a whole." Well, she had asked for the adverse affects of Tallygarunga's approach to inclusiveness.
  12. I have found alcohol and cigarettes concealed in the library. Where do I dispose of these?

    1. Show previous comments  5 more
    2. Lorelei Valentin-Blair

      Lorelei Valentin-Blair

      Oh, those are Grandmiere's. It is ok.

    3. Lauren Burdett

      Lauren Burdett

      It is not "ok", @Lorelei Valentin-Blair. They were hidden between books where students can get them. This is only one hiding spot it is likely there are others. Irresponsible! 

      I will bring them to you immediately, @Ashkar Gastrell. At least someone here has common sense!

    4. Ashkar Gastrell

      Ashkar Gastrell

      Thank you, Miss Burdett. I shall be in my office with the appropriate method of disposal waiting.

  13. "Fictional?" Lauren raised a single eyebrow. All of this was about some person that didn't even exist? While Amber took her time considering material options, Lauren was steadily losing faith in the world. This... Bat... man was something made up. What was the point of that? It seemed there was a lot of it to consider too (though it was also very likely, she felt, that Amber was simply taking some time to remember how to breathe. Or maybe she had forgotten her own name. Lauren wondered if she should help, but only very briefly). In what sort of world was there so much material about... something that didn't exist. It boggled her. "There is more than enough to know in the real world, what fool would fill their brain with useless nonsense," she said primly. Of course, she knew, this included her father. And likely everyone she would encounter, ever, which was just... why had she come back? Why hadn't she noticed that everyone here was unfathomable? Lauren would do many things to find her way in this world but she could not stomach the thought of lowering herself to such a level as to willingly and enthusiastically occupy her mind with fictional garbage. At every turn, it seemed she was being asked to reduce herself to a mindless idiot, like... Well. Like Amber. Lauren's pretty little frown was turned into an expression of deep disapproval. There was a lot of work required for this girl, but maybe---and this was just a theory---maybe if she could be convinced to cease with the useless rubbish and focus on what was real and true, she might have the capacity to hold a few facts in that empty head of hers. But could Lauren handle such an intensive project? It was for the greater good, certainly, but Lauren was seriously doubting whether she could manage. Oh, the dilemma.
  14. Too many? Too many what? Lauren was beginning to think this girl was deliberately speaking another language. Or was she damaged like Améa, and couldn't form proper sentences? It seemed that whenever she decided something about this girl, something else happened to make her question her assessment. The constant shifting was beginning to annoy her, an irritation that was not at all brought on by this lingering sadness and regret that had infiltrated her heart. She still didn't understand the significance of this Batman thing, why this girl had the same symbol on her ugly bag as her father had on her shirt, or how her father could possibly resemble a bat of all things. In Lauren's opinion, he was more like a bear. She hadn't seen a bear in real life, but she'd seen plenty of pictures of bats and bears both, and it was not the bats that bore the most resemblance to her father. "I see," she faked her understanding. Her father did do some weird things, that much was true. Her mother was a prime example of Alan's poor choices. None of this would have turned out like it had if Adele hadn't been part of it, and for Lauren that was more than enough reason to blame the woman for all of it. Questions bubbled up inside her. Questions she refused to let herself ask, because that would mean she didn't know things, things that Amber did know and therefore the girl had the upper hand. You couldn't rule when others thought you an uneducated git, she would have to find another way to solve the mystery of the Batman. Fitting in with the other students was going to be significantly harder than she expected. Lauren knew her father had a lot of hope that she would do well here, and so far she was not... she was failing him. She was failing him, he would be disappointed and probably send her to live with Adele. No. No. She couldn't have that. Anything but that. Lauren kept her mouth shut, staring now at the other patches on Amber's bag. Did they also mean things she knew nothing about? Probably. Very probably.
  15. "Daddy has that on a shirt," Lauren murmured in response, momentarily intrigued by this patch on the ugliest bag in the world. And suddenly, it hit her. How little she knew about her own family, even though she'd been hovering in the shadows almost the entire time. How distant she really was, to not even know her own father's nickname. Her watch had always consisted on ensuring that no one got hurt, anything more was just agony to observe. The way Amber said it, as if it should have been an obvious answer and something Lauren definitely should have known, made her recoil with a sharp frown on her face. "Of course I did know this," she lied with a snap. "I only forgot." Because admitting that she didn't know was harder. What else didn't she know? It occurred to her that she didn't even know his favourite colour. What food he liked. What his favourite songs were, or what his life had been like when he was a kid. Lauren blinked and fought back tears. Told herself she was just angry at this stupid girl in front of her, but knew it wasn't true. She was angry at herself. Her father was a mystery to her, and he shouldn't have been. This world was a mystery to her, and it shouldn't have been either. Was it a mistake coming back? Was there too much to catch up on? "Grandmiere did not allow me this bat... man thing," she added haughtily, a messy and snotty sniff giving away her distress. It was almost true. If she had been interested, Lillian likely would have allowed her to pursue the interest so long as it didn't interfere with her work, but Lauren had refused to engage in the world. Refused to look deeper just as she'd refused to be part of it. "Why does Daddy have this nickname?"
Lauren Meredith Burdett
Fifth Year
16* year old Halfblood Sorceraic She/Her
Age:  16*
Date of Birth: February 20th, 2003
Birthplace: Narragyambie
Blood Status: Halfblood
Species: Sorceraic
Player:  ★ Sadrienne
Pronouns: She/Her
Play-by: Natalie Dormer

Fiercely independent and determined to prove she doesn't need her family, Lauren's attitude is what some might describe as bitter, arrogant, and generally terrible. She refuses to accept her mother and claims she will never forgive the woman for all the things she did before and in the time after Lauren's birth. The separation from her family only served to cause her wound of being unwanted to fester and worsen, loneliness seeping deep into her soul.

She pushes back connections that may do her harm, believing that her own self is the only person she can truly rely on. She seems to delight in humiliating and hurting the members of her family, Adele and Améa specifically, as punishment for the things she believes they did wrong. Lauren speaks in sarcasm, sharp words in dry amusement but designed to harm.

Her father is the one person she regrets leaving behind, though she's not particularly sure how to be a child as he understands it. She's not even sure how to be a daughter, or fit in with other people in a family setting. Her abrasive and aloof nature is likely to cause problems, she is difficult to relate to and very clearly sees herself as from a different world to others. 


Lauren is a perfect mix between her mother and father. With her mother's pale skin and her father's rounder face and light brown hair, there's no question as to who she belongs to. At least, not visually. Like the rest of her mother's family, Lauren's grey eyes have an unsettling quality that can't be quite placed. It's as if she can see more than most, and understand far more than any teenager should be capable of. 

She is of average height with a slight build, and a very expressive face that soon indicates just how trouble you're in with her. Her favourite expression seems to be one of amused condescension. Her style leans toward more childish items, creating an innocent look that fools most. 


Technically Lauren was born in 2008, and to the best of public knowledge, died later that year just six months of age. Even her parents, Adele and Alan, had no clue that Lauren had already fully accepted her sorceraic blood, and was not in fact gone. She sought to escape what she believed was the humiliating prison of an infant form, and gain the freedom she felt entitled to. That Adele's life was in a shambles and her actions were getting progressively more and more destructive left Lauren in the belief that she had no other choice, she did not want to stick around for her mother to constantly prove how unwanted and uncared for she was.

She took advantage of an altercation between her father and a Ministry official to feign an accident, throwing her family's life into turmoil as they believed her truly deceased. Her grandmother, Lillian, had spirited her away and left a decoy in place of a body. Lauren spent the next ten years under her grandmother's care, in the background of her own family's life but never able to truly participate. It was their job, her grandmother said, to watch over them and ensure their safety. Lauren did as she was told, and though Lillian hoped that the exercise would push the girl into rejoining the family, it had the opposite effect as Lauren watched her siblings and mother grow and connect, having the life she wished she could have. All the while, mourning her death in ways that Lauren didn't feel were genuine.

Occasionally she stepped into the foreground, in the form of a young girl named Flora. This she did to help avert family crises, but always took the opportunity to land a few scathing blows while she did. Often by laughing at their foolish failures, or pointing out the flawed logic in their plans. 

Still, loneliness plagued her. In ensuring her life, Lillian had fused her soul with that of a long-ceased sorceress known as the Grey. The Grey's matched pair, a non-romantic soulmate of sorts, was the Brown. Knowing that Lillian knew the location of the Brown's resting place, when her niece Lorelei was struck by a death-like sleeping curse and forced from her body, she formulated a plan to fuse Lorelei with the Brown to resurrect her pair. Lorelei consented, and the process was a success. Finally Lauren had that connection she had desired, but Lillian was not finished.

She had decided that it was time for Lauren to rejoin the world, and her family. She put the girl into the body of a teen, approximately fifteen years of age, and stripped her of all magical gift. Now helpless to act without the assistance of others, Lauren was sent to live with her father and his growing family in Narragyambie. One of the conditions was that she attend Tallygarunga, and learn to relate to those she loved to look down upon.

Lauren is not happy about any of this. Though she's happy to be back in her father's life, she's frustrated by her lack of independence and power. Being sent to Tallygarunga just adds insult to injury, but with her father as Headmaster, her mother as Librarian, and her uncle a student there---there's only so much trouble she can get into.

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