Iseabail Taylor

Backstory

(Growing student, Quidditch jock) I grew up in a half-blooded, magic-neutral home in the Scottish Highlands. Me Da's a Wizard, Mum's a muggle. I didn't know too much about magic growing up, (Mum wanted it to stay pretty hush in case I weren't magic) so I went to muggle school for a few years. Da still did magic, 'course, just...less than he wanted to. Did things the muggle way most times. We had a few magic books, some fun odds and ends, and Da was pretty open with letting the magic family come over. Mum was a bit odd about it. Never really understood, but kept an open mind.
What I did know about magic, though, was Quidditch. Da kept all sorts of scores and banners in the house, and he even snuck me out to a few matches when I was wee. Before I really understood a bit of it, I loved it. I wanted to fly, I wanted to rush about and soar and dip and turn and scream through the skies like a banshee. Da took me on a broom a handful o' times when Mum was gone. It felt more natural than breathin'. He showed me his favorite team, the Montrose Magpies, told me how hard they worked to get to where they were, and how proud he was that they were Scottish. He told me that someday, I could be flying around with them. I pretty much stapled the Magpies banners to my shirts from then on.
Once I got my letter, Da packed me up as quick as he could, bought me way too many sweaters in Hogsmeade, stuck me on a train, and I was away.
It was a hard learning curve. Going from watching tiny pictures in books movin' and castin' spells, and then being expected to cast 'em fer myself. I wanted to give up and go home my first few years. There weren't no point in doin' magic if it made me that angry when I failed. But every time I wrote home, Da told me to remember that the Montrose Magpies needed well-trained people on their teams, and I couldn't very well get good Quidditch training at some muggle school, now could I? So I've been sticking out, best I can.