House : Slytherin
Year : 7th
Familiar : Large Twany Frogmouth Owl named 'Nahnook'
Gender : Female
Age : 16
Ethnicity : Anglo-Saxon
Appearance : Morgan is average height, around 5'6, but is dead convinced she's short, a factor she makes up with by constantly wearing high heeled shoes. She has bright sea-green eyes and black hair, which hangs in long thick waves to her waist. She is slender, and quite beutiful, with mischievious eyes and flashing smile.
Origins : Australian on her Mothers side, French on her Fathers, Morgan speaks a smattering of both English and French. Her Australian family home is a massive homestead in outback Queensland, while an estate in Wiltshire is home in Europe. Her parents reside most of the year in Australia.
Personality Quirks : Morgan is... ecclectic.
One moment she will be dead serious, the next cuddly and innocent. She can also fly into a temper with little to no provocation, thus when she feels her friends or loved ones are actually threatened, she is a force to be feared.
She likes cookies. A lot... She loves pampering herself almost as much as those around her, and has a thing for the more indulgent parts of life. Chocolate, Champagne, a hot guy and a good movie is her idea of a perfect rainy afternoon, but if she can get out and about in the sunshine, well, to be honest, she's a social butterfly, and will be found doing whatever the group is doing!
Morgan is Daddy's little girl, and while she is pureblooded, he raised her to not share the intolerances of many in her house.
She stalked down the hall, the very thought of what had just happened causing her to shove her way through the crowds in disgust. Anger rippled of her and anyone who saw her face stopped mid-greeting, waving hands lowered slowly, and one poor first year hid behind a rubbish bin to avoid contact with the obviously furious girl.
The doors of the library slammed open at her entrance, almost as though fleeing from her, and there she stood, her eye's scanning for the prey rumoured to be there. She spotted him and her whole demenor changed, the terror inducing chill still evident on her perfectly set features. She linked her hands in front of her, and slowly, one foot in front of the other, sauntered over to the table where he sat. Her eyes narrowed and a dangerously pleasant smile graced her features. She was pure Slytherin in that moment, manipulative and cunning. Anger wouldnt talk him around, it would take charm.
"Peeves, we've discussed you stealing my bra's before..."
