Before Alana Wallace became a hollow shell of what she currently is now know as, she had the ideal characteristics and personality of a Hufflepuff: she valued patience, loyalty, and fair-play, and it seemed as though the ancient Helga Hufflepuff's spirit resided in her. Alana was basically royalty to her fellow Hufflepuffs at Hogwarts of School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she was known as their princess ... until the summer of 1994, after her third year at Hogwarts when she fell ill to a dastardly lung disease, Pneumonia, and underwent multiple Muggle surgeries within hospitals. She could barely breathe after each surgery, which resulted in the expected reactions from her parents. Drugs and enchantments were bestowed upon Alana Wallace to stabilize her overall health and to ease her state of suffering.
Alana had been trying to convince her parents to allow her to attend Hogwarts once more. The Wallace household sat in the moderately-sized livingroom with house elves beside them, ready to serve, just as almost every Pureblood household had. She was sitting on one of the sofas in the room, and she was faced toward her parents, her voice was as calm as flowing water, but the promise of tears was a possibility, "I'm doing fine."
Alana Wallace is the daughter of Maurice Wellson, a witch educated at Ilvermony, one of America's prized schools, whom married and bore the daughter of one of Europe's not-so wealthiest Pureblood, Aronn Wallace. Her mother shook her head in disagreement, she is known to be the cautious figure of the household, "No, Alana, you are not, almost every week you become ill. Your father and I have conversed about this many times before."
Alana was quiet now, and her features appeared to be angered. She shot her head towards the window, and stared out into the abyss of concentration, or possibly the feeling of being unable to face someone whom they do not wish to, "Mo-ther, Father," her voice broke as she attempted to capture her parents' attention. Alana's fourth year acceptance letter for Hogwarts had just arrived, and her parents were getting second thoughts about her education. "How do you expect me to live through the wizarding world with only three years of knowledge?"
Her parents exchanged glances, both of their eyes seemed to have been full of worry, but her father was the one to speak this time, "Alana, honey, you know how bad your condition is. Anyone would understand — sometimes you just have to let life run its course."
Alana now had tears that streaked down her cheeks from her eyes that had formed there. She had never seen her parents act like this, as though something like this could be tossed aside simply. Yes, her conditions are unlike other students at Hogwarts, but she desired to have an education. "I've suffered enough this year," more tears formed in her eyes, causing one to streak down her cheek. "I don't want to be known as some disabled dropout witch with barely any schooling ... Give me atleast a chance ... please."
"Alana," her mother muttered a low, unrecognizable tone. She and Alana's father were holding hands, and both of the parents seemed to now realize the importance of what Alana considers life to be known as, "We'll head to Diagon Alley in the first thing in the morning."