Feet tucked beneath her as she sat on bench, Nahla suddenly blurted out to the passing stranger, “Honestly, I’ve pondered it for weeks and I just don’t understand the mechanics of a howler. I mean, I understand when writing a letter, capitalizing signifies yelling. But then, if that’s the mechanism by which the spell is controlled, why isn’t lowercase whispering? I’ve studied the shreds of several letters but they all weren’t written with fully proper punctuation, which disproves my theory that it interprets sentence case as punctuation as regular speech....” She paused suddenly, cheeks somewhat flushed by the public nature of her outburst. “T-thoughts?”
It was strange to be back. Victoire’s mind was flooded with memories of these streets - memories from the time she was a young girl, and through all of her school years, giggling with her siblings and cousins, her friends. Now, Pascal walked in front of her, but she was alone, lost in her own thoughts as she walked the cobblestones. Diagon Alley was somewhere that was meant to be familiar and inviting. Instead, she felt shut out from her old world.
She had needed to get out. Her family, while well intentioned, hadn’t been able to wipe the look of worry from their faces every time they looked at her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t understand why, but it was becoming suffocating, and so, Victoire had grabbed her cloak and Pascal’s leash, and made her way out. The cold air bit at her exposed skin, but felt welcome in her lungs.
It wasn’t until she felt a tug on her end of the leash that Victoire was drawn out of her thoughts, looking up to see Pascal rushing at someone. “I - I’m so sorry!” She called, rushing to catch up with the dog, before seeing the figure, “He doesn’t always have the best manners.”
The frost of winter’s breeze cooled Nahla despite her best efforts. It was cold and yet, she reveled in the chill of solitude. For weeks, her days had filled with the smell of fresh pancakes, warm fires and twinkling Christmas lights, thoughts drowned out by the babble of her toddler nieces and nephews.
A distraction was what we needed, her mind reminded her gently. The noise of this world was deafening. Had she truly needed a break though? Perhaps it had been a test of endurance. Is it possible that she’d already...
FAILED. The word ran through her mind as fatigue nipped at Nahla’s vision. Closing her eyes momentarily, she searched for clarity, instead a small dog pawing at her shoes.
“Hello,” Nahla murmured, fingers waving at the animal as presumably the owner followed in apology. Blonde hair, familiar eyes and the slightest touch of ethereal beauty. She recognised Victoire Weasley almost immediately. “It’s okay... I don’t mind,” she answered carefully, the soft tones of her voice nearly inaudible.
❝ Laugh and the world laughs with you, snore and you sleep alone.❞ NAHLA THOMAS looks a lot like that muggle, IMAAN HAMMAM, right? Only 24 years old, that RAVENCLAW alumnus works as a UNSPEAKABLE and is sided with the NEUTRALS. SHE identifies as A CIS WOMAN and is a HALF-BLOOD.
[ PLOT ARC #6, PROPHECY #7, THE TACITURN. SAYURI, SHE/HER 21+, GMT+9]
☾ ( B a s i c I n f o r m a t i o n )
✧┊Full Name: Nahla Lucille Thomas
✧┊Nickname(s): Nahla, as she was born as. The only people who call her otherwise are her muggle nieces and nephews on father’s side. To them, she’s known as Titi Lala.
✧┊Blood Status: Half-Blood
✧┊Former Magical Institution and House: Hogwarts, Ravenclaw
✧┊Age: 24
✧┊Birthday: 1 October
✧┊Allegiance: Neutral
✧┊Nationality: English, Egyptian
✧┊Assigned Sex at Birth: Female
✧┊Gender Alignment: Cisgender Female
✧┊Preferred Pronoun(s): She, her
✧┊Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
✧┊Occupation: Unspeakable at the Department of Mysteries
✧┊Patronus: A Unicorn
✧┊Amortentia: freshly baked pita bread, candied almonds, lilies and the sea breeze
☾ ( R e l a t i o n s h i p s )
✧┊Father: Dean C. Thomas
✧┊Mother: Nour A. Thomas (neé Yahya)
✧┊Siblings: None.
✧┊Extended Family: On her father’s side, to say in the least, their family history is complicated. By blood, she is the grandchild of Lucille Thomas (neé Morehouse) and Christopher Whitfield. Though never married, they were very much in love and within a year of being together, their union brought her father into the world. Unbeknownst to her grandmother at the time however, Christopher was a wizard; one who feared for the safety of his beloved and infant child. As her grandmother tells it, a day after Dean’s third birthday, Christopher abandoned his family and thus, left Lucille to fend for herself and her then toddler son. Luckily, love found her grandmother again in Elijah Thomas, thus blessing Nahla with a plethora of muggle aunts, nieces and nephews. In comparison, her mother’s side of the family though smaller and perhaps less scandalous, is equally as close-knit. Her grandmother and grandfather, Adel and Salma Yahya, are both pure-bloods and hail from high-standing wizarding families. As her mother is their only child and she, their only grandchild, Nahla spent many summers beneath the blue summer sky, listening to tales of her mother’s childhood mischief.
☾ ( P e r s o n a l i t y )
✧┊Usual Mood or Expression: Nahla’s thoughts are constantly occupied. Whether it be by work, her family or a simple to-do list of things to accomplish by the weekend, her mind is continuously filled with fragmented thoughts and images. As a result, her expression and by extension, expression is often preoccupied.
✧┊Jung Type: INFP
✧┊Enneagram: Type 5
✧┊Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
✧┊Positive Traits: attentive, cultured, imaginative, patient, honest
✧┊Negative Traits: overly-critical, callous, aimless, inflexible, anxious
You are the Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries who anonymously leaked the prophecy to the world, believing that everyone had the right to know. You’re sure that the answer to everything can be found within Trelawney’s words. For months, you’ve poured over documents, trying to make sense of it all. You know that eventually you’re bound to make a breakthrough, but you need to make sure that your research does not fall into the wrong hands.
✧┊And in her mind, almost all hands are the wrong hands.
✧┊The reason Nahla seeks the answer is not to help either allegiance but rather for the knowledge. In the same way her colleagues study death and love, Nahla studies the ebb and flow of life. To her, real is a stage and every person, a player.
✧┊While some may call it Machiavellian, Nahla sees herself as something of a revolutionary. By allowing the wizarding world to know of Trelawney’s prophecy, she has leveled what is often an unfair playing field.
✧┊That being said however, given the potential repercussions of her actions, Nahla dares not even confide in her family or friends of her thoughts and motives. In their eyes, she’s just a regular Ministry employee, nothing more, nothing less.
☾ ( P r o p h e c y )
[ DEATH TW ] LABEL will leave this world much too soon, but in the arms of their beloved, their final moments will be peaceful at least.
✧┊Nahla is unaware of which lines of the prophecy pertain to her. In fact, it concerns her very little as she sees herself of little importance. The struggle and desire to be all-knowing have consumed her and thus ironically, why only death can bring her peace.
