Viewing profile - Millicent Bulstrode


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Ministry of Magic
Millicent Bulstrode
On-Site St. Mungo's Clinic
16 Oct 1980
PLAYER | Belle
When she was a young girl, Millie's grandmother told her that the last flower to bloom would be the rarest and most beautiful of all.

She'd done it to make her feel better about her jutting chin, spare tire, and big feet. Of course, up until that point, Millie hadn't precisely been aware that she should feel bad about those things.

In retrospect, it could have been worse. A measure of self-awareness came in handy in her later years, especially for a girl with a dead mother and a loving, erratic, but generally useless father. Hogwarts could've been a nightmare, but she didn't let it - Millie figured out early on that being ugly came with its own benefits.

Girls like Pansy and Tracey weren't threatened by her, they trusted her with their boyfriends and their overtures of friendship; boys like Draco and Blaise were as free with their banter around her as they were among the rest of the males. And no one dared bully her outright, because she was more than capable of flattening them with a killer left hook. All things considered, she was grateful to be a Slytherin. Being outcast by the rest of the school made them more loyal to one another than any of the others could claim - no matter what false promises the Sorting Hat made.

Of course, loyalty was precisely what involved her in the war. Being halfblood wasn't an obvious route to anything, and despite the glorious past - married into the Black family, don't you know? - Millie doubts she would've bothered if it wasn't for the rest of them. Her time on the Inquisitorial Squad was more of a laugh than anything else, and if she was honest, it was nice to feel powerful for a change.

But, inevitably, good things come to an end. Draco became a Death Eater and people began to die in earnest, and Millie saw the future snaking out ahead of her. Making believe at Hogwarts was all fine and well, but in Lord Voldemort's eyes, she'd never be anything more than a second-class witch. Fortunately she realised that as early as everything else. Of course, besides Pansy the pariah, no one remembers that Millicent Bulstrode both abandoned her own side and refused to join the resistance. By that point it seemed futile; whatever she did was going to condemn her.

The end of school wasn't all bad news, however. As her grandmother predicted, she did grow into her looks - though Millie is fairly certain she's nowhere near the most beautiful of all. She went to train as a Healer, which came as a surprise to a lot of people since she's about as comforting as a boulder, but she really enjoys the science of it, and Potions was one of her better subjects even accounting for Snape's blatant favouritism.

Millie also published a series of successful books, derived from the journals she wrote during her school years, under the pseudonym Echidna Verrat. They are called Things I Didn't Say and she is currently in the midst of writing a fifth instalment. Those already out in paperback at all good wizarding bookshops, are:

Things I Didn't Say…To My Best Friend: "When you screw your face up like that, you look like a bag of smashed assholes."
Things I Didn't Say…To My Potions Professor: "I want you to go down on me for so long you have to evolve gills."
Things I Didn't Say…To The Dark Lord: "Instead of killing Muggles, you should've taken some tips from them on how to intimidate people - after all, they did invent the tax return."
Things I Didn't Say…To The Boy Who Lived: "Don't worry that we'll judge you for coming out; we're already judging you for your taste in women."

Canon RP Sample

She's used to people doing a double take when they see her, even though it's been two years since Hogwarts, and even longer than that since she was notably hideous. It should make her feel good, make her feel validated, but Millie realises that the two don't equate, and to be frank, it gets to be tiresome, hearing all the ways in which she's changed.

Because beneath the face she's grown into and the tits that she probably never will, she's still the kind of girl who communicates in grunts unless you're one of the handful of people she cares about, and she still loves her cat more than just about anyone else, and if she got the chance to do things over again - she'd still put that bushy-haired troglodyte Granger in a headlock.

"Millicent," his eyes can't seem to remain above her neckline; they're burning into her like lasers and she considers the relative merits of murdering him in his sleep. "Been a while."

"Not nearly long enough," Millie says shortly, indicating that he climb up on the gurney so she can fix his shoulder.

"You're looking great," he continues, oblivious to her unfriendliness, as if she's somehow less intimidating now she's not shaped like a brick. Irritatingly, she knows that's true. "Do you want to -"


He howls and slumps, her hands - still a good size, still useful, still perfectly capable of wrapping around a man's shoulder joint and popping it back into place manually - falling away to her sides. "Nope," Millie answers, brusque. "You can go."
Millie is the kind of woman who draws the eye whether she likes it or not. At 5'8", she's taller than average, and she generally wears heels that boost her to 6'0". Long grown out of her puppy fat years, she nevertheless remains well built, with an hourglass figure that takes constant maintenance.

Her long dark hair is generally left down in loose waves, unless she's gardening or working out, when she pulls it back in a voluminous ponytail. Millie tends not to wear much make-up beyond a slick of mascara and eyeliner, and a little tinted moisturiser to stop her looking completely ghostly.

Style-wise, Millie generally wears neat blouses with pencil skirts or fitted trousers for work, and tailored dresses the rest of the time. Her colour palette is almost exclusively black, grey and white, with the occasional navy or hunter green piece.


Millie's place is Briar Cottage, a tiny two-bedroomed house in the Highlands of Scotland, in the district of Glen Mor. Her closest neighbour lives twelve miles away.

She shares Briar Cottage and the surrounding land with her cat Beau, guard dog Duke (named after Kirley Duke, lead guitarist of the Weird Sisters and Millie's longtime crush) and horse Circe. She also keeps five chickens: Hecate, Stadlin, Hoppo, Hellwain, and Puckle, and a rooster, Firestone (all named for the coven in Thomas Middleton's play, The Witch). All of Millie's animals are strays or rescues.


As a Resident Healer, Millie doesn't have her own space at the St Mungo's Satellite Clinic, so instead she invested in a vintage bar cart for all her medical reference books, potions, unguents, herbs, and other supplies. Everything is well-stocked and meticulously organised, and anyone who touches it without permission courts death.



Fir, 10.5", Phoenix tail feather

Educational History

Hogwarts, Slytherin, 1991-1998

Face Claim

Kat Dennings

Additional Notes

The Family Bulstrode:
Father - Phaeton Bulstrode [Curse Breaker, gambler, irresponsible]
Mother - Victoria Pendleton nee Bulstrode [Unknown, left Phaeton when Millie was seven and Prudence was two, hasn't been heard from since].
Younger Sister - Prudence Bulstrode [Five years younger than Millie, Slytherin].

Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe [deceased].

Ane Brun ft. Wendy McNeil - Common Bird
Jessie Ware - Tough Love
The Alternate Routes ft. Lily Costner - Nothing More
Natalia Kills - Wonderland
Kelis - I Don't Think So
Japandroids - The House That Heaven Built



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