- ■ - Name - Jacquetta Saint Pol.- ■ - Age - Twenty-nine at the time of death. Over eight-hundred years dead.
- ■ - Appearance - Most of the color is drained from her. She might have once been beautiful when she was alive, but now she is nothing more than a pale form. Her blonde hair hangs loose, falling down to the curve in her back. Her eyes are dull, as if one is viewing them underwater. She did not remain in her death state; she reverted back to a form in which she was most happy, but the effects of her death still linger. She wears a green gown, with large bell sleeves and an ornate gold trim. The bottom of the gown is darker, much darker and there seems to be scorch marks along the hem. There are flecks of ash on her face and chest.
- ■ - Speaking Style - Jacquetta speaks in a language very different from the English now spoken with a hint of a French accent. She tries to acclimate herself to current vernacular, but seems to forget all she has learned during the summer holidays, when there are no students to interact with.
- ■ - Demeanor - She is delicate and polite in her nature. She takes genuine interest in the lives of the students at Hogwarts and is known to offer consolation and advice to those she feels are in some sort of trouble. But she abides by all the rules that Hogwarts has installed and expects the students to do the same. She is notably affable in all situations and holds herself to a certain level of decorum.
Jacquetta is prone to fits of hysteria at the hint of burning or if fire gets too close to her. Her periods of emotional turmoil are known to last several days, in which she weeps endlessly or sucks the energy out of the room in cold rage. It is best to avoid her during such times as no amount of soothing words or gestures can calm her. After these periods, she carries on as if nothing ever happened. She is rather sensitive and can take slights, even unintended ones, very personally.
- ■ - Merits - Her kindness and her need to protect children are her greatest gifts. She is not particularly silver tongued, but she can ease the hearts of even the most inconsolable of people. She has a well of knowledge on healing and medicine, both magical and practical; she has never ceased learning new techniques and spells for the healing arts. She knows all the ins and outs of Hogwarts, all the short cuts, the hidden rooms, and its more permanent inhabitants.
- ■ - Flaws - She has what can only be described as a phobia of fire and flame; the only fires she seems capable of tolerating are candles. She is incredibly gullible, especially when it comes to children and students, believing even the most transparent of lies. Some would describe her as foolish and headstrong. Being a ghost, she has very little effect on the physical world around her. When in her hysteria fits, she is known to lash out at those around her, regardless of who they are. This sort of behavior makes many question her allowed presence at Hogwarts.
- ■ - History - It was a crisp morning in the fall of 1232 that she was led out into the yard in a linen shift, before the site of her burning: a tall pole, surrounded by piles of sticks--faggots. While all the nights since her imprisonment had been filled with torture, the night before had been a peaceful one, having been told she was to be executed at nine the next morning. The relief of knowing when she was to die, how much longer she had to suffer (when she had not a word from anyone; when she was being punished by silence from the few around her; when she had endured much of the methods of extracting a confession by the inquisitors) had stilled her frenzied thoughts. She had every intention of going to her death with a serene face and a calm heart. But seeing her demise in person made her question her resolve. The twine wrapped around the bundles of sticks, stacked one on top of the other--faggots--she imagined the stabbing, burning pain on the soles of her feet.
- Jacquetta refused to confess: she had done no harm to anyone or anything. During the first month of imprisonment, she had still had hope that she would be released, but the hours, the days, the weeks went by without her knowing and she was still in the dank, dark dungeon. When it finally hit her that she was not getting out, she made plans. She had planned on taking a draught to make her immune to the flame and to have her wand back. She had planned her escape by entrusting a friend to deliver them and take her away from this place. But she had been let down by the one person she trusted: the Headmaster of Beauxbatons. He had assured Jacquetta that a potion would come, her wand would come, help would come. But nothing came.
- The constable sauntered up to her bruised body in all his pomp and glory. He looked her up and down, eyeing her rope-bound wrists as if to assure that she could not touch him, that he was safe from her infliction. He gave a curt nod before puffing out his chest and reading from the final issue. Jacquetta kept her eyes on the large, gold cross about his neck.
- "By the order of the Papal Inquisition, decreed by His Holiness Pope Gregory IX, Bishop of Rome, Vicar of Christ, Successor of the Prince of the Apostles, Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church, Primate of Italy, Archbishop and Metropolitan of the Roman province, Sovereign of the State of the Vatican City, Servant of the Servants of God, upheld by Simon de Montfort, sixth Earl of Leicester: Jacquetta Saint Pol, you are henceforth found guilty of heresy and treason, for which you are sentenced to death by burning. Do you repent of your sins?"
- She clenched her fists and stood up tall and proud, despite the weakness and exhaustion of her starved muscles. She met his eyes, full of defiance. She paused for a moment, only a moment, to steady herself, to keep herself from screaming and thrashing and attacking anyone who was near her. She could feel the hands of madness reaching around her throat, threatening to strangle the life out of her.
- "Answer him, whore!" A rotting cabbage head was thrown at her feet by someone in the crowd. There was no point in trying to figure out who threw it: they were all against her here. Even the men she had helped to heal, the children she had helped bring into this world, and the women she had weaved spells for, all of them were against her and some of them had even testified to her heretical ways. All of them lied. They claimed she summoned dark, evil spirits; that she had relations with the Devil; that she had killed babies and livestock; that she had made the crops wither and die.
- "I have committed nothing against my conscience," she replied in a shaky voice, speaking more to the nobility in the stands. It was something she had repeated many times during her time in the dungeons, something she was weary of saying. But she wasn't done, not with these monsters standing above her. "And would ask you to consider your own eternal soul," she added with spite.
- The jutting of his jaw, the pursing of his lips, the flaring of his nostrils, and the squinting of his eyes were clear to everyone: she had struck a nerve. Some of the gathered mob even dared to laugh, but most of them gasped and awed. The rebuttals of the damned could be just as entertaining as the actual execution. "So through the earthly fires, you may have a taste of the pain of the eternal fire and find salvation in your last moments," he growled before stalking away, no doubt to the viewing balcony.
- A man approached her wearing a mask over his eyes. There was no questioning what he was. He knelt at her feet, looking up to ask: "Do you forgive me?" She could see the strain around the blue eyes through the eye holes of the mask he wore. She did not recognize him: she did not know him and he did not know her. All he knew of her he had heard from others.
- "Lift your spirits, man," she declared, raising him up with a kiss on the cheek. "Do not be afraid to do your office."
- She closed her eyes as the executioner bound her to the pole. He discreetly secured something around her neck, weighted with his gift of mercy. These were her last few breaths. She was determined that though she had been accused of such horrible crimes, she would not go out as the monster they wanted everyone to believe. Her thoughts were slowing and soon left her mind blank, but she could not stop the pounding of her heart and the tremble in her legs. It had been two months since the accusation started, since the inquisition began and now, it would be over in a few minutes.
- "Burn her."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- Jacquetta Saint Pol was born in 1203 A.D. in the County of Toulouse in southern France to non-magical parents. Out of three children, she was the only to survive. She was one of the first students to attend Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Upon graduating in 1221, she returned to her family home. Her parents had long abhorred the thought of their daughter being a witch: they loved her more than anything on Earth, but it was becoming more and more unacceptable to even consider her practicing of magic.
She was asked to become the nurse's aid at Hogwarts at the age of twenty-four. Hogwarts was a much more established institution than Beauxbatons was at the time, which was threatening to close its doors forever. This decision on her part subsequently lead to her parents' disowning of her entirely. During the summer holidays, she would return to France, albeit not her family home; she rented out a room in the town's inn. She made a second living in the world of muggles by becoming a midwife and wise woman. She kept her magical abilities hidden from the people in the muggle world, but she still concocted healing potions, divined the future as best should could for customers, and cast the occasional "love spell" for desperate young women. She would only use her magic to save the lives of infants and children.
Many witches and wizards, both in France and what is now the U.K., warned her of unrest in the south of France, of an Inquisition initiated by the Pope. But she wholeheartedly believed that the people she had grown up around would never suffer such treatment. She believed they would protect their own kind from anything outsiders dared to bring to their village.
She was accused of heresy on June 14, 1232 A.D.
She spent the next couple months being interrogated and beaten. Her gender was her greatest asset at this point: the torturers were loath to defile a woman in such a way. She was chained in a dungeon and would often be deprived of food and drink. At this time, the Headmaster of Beauxbatons had been in contact with her (she refused to let others know of her folly). No owl could enter the dungeons, so the next best method of communication was through rats. After all, who would think anything of a rat? He had promised to rescue her from this predicament she had wound up in. But through some bitter feelings of his own, he had no intention of saving her.
She was executed for heresy on August 20, 1232 A.D. at the age of twenty-nine.
In her last living moments, when the flames sparked and the smoke began to rise, the words of the inquisitors began to fill her head. How she would burn in the eternal flame, in hell, if she did not seek salvation; how she was doomed for eternity to suffer much worse than they would or could ever put her through. The thought terrified her: she viewed her death as an escape, but it seemed she would merely jump out of the frying pan and into the fire--literally. Right as she questioned the thought of salvation, the gunpowder around her neck ignited, destroying her body completely.
The next thing she knew, her soul was being carried across miles and miles of land and sea to return to where she felt most safe, most obliged to be: Hogwarts. She found herself in the empty Hospital Wing. It was still the last few days of summer break, so there was not a single person around. Within the next week, the nurse returned, only to find a weeping form sitting on one of the hospital beds.
During the Battle of Hogwarts, she was able to help, in her own way. She helped ensure that all the underage students were evacuated safely before she "armed" herself for battle. She was able to scare and trick those that lacked a certain intelligence (giants). She acted as a messenger and guide for students and staff, telling them where to go and what to do. She was told to avoid certain places where explosions were set, as others were unsure if she would be able to overcome her fear. After the battle, she joined the other ghosts in mourning.
Jacquetta has been at Hogwarts for a very long time since she first appeared. The veil has appeared to her occasionally over the years, but she refuses to cross it, terrified of what lay on the other side. She has seen many students and staff come and go, but she forgets their faces over the course of time--only a few she remembers. She remains at Hogwarts to not only save herself from the afterlife, but to protect children from making the same mistakes she did, even if the laws from the Middle Ages do not apply in the current times.
- ■ - Wand - Her wand is lost forever, having never been delivered to her hands while imprisoned: willow, unicorn hair, ten and a half inches, springy.
- ■ - Hobbies - She tends to wander about the castle, only rarely venturing outside of its walls, even then, never venturing far. She enjoys helping in the Hospital Wing, though she cannot do much more than recite potions from memory and act as a comfort to those who are there. She visits the library quite often during the holidays, reading the ephemeral forms of books. Quidditch has also become one of her favorite forms of distractions.
- ■ - Patronus Form - A finch, not that it matters anymore.
