The Letter

Classes dragged on endlessly as I slept through most of them. I mean, honestly, what did anyone expect? That I would actually listen during English? I already spoke the language perfectly well, thank you very much. The only class worth staying awake for was Biology - the rest were about as useful as a chocolate teapot, as Mum would say.

Though if I'm being entirely honest, none of it would matter much longer. I wasn't destined for a career in the Muggle world - that much I'd known ever since my "accidental magic," as Mum called it, started getting increasingly difficult to control. The incidents had become more frequent too, much to Dad's growing concern.

I'd tried to understand how it all worked, of course. Through trial and error, I'd discovered I could somewhat channel the magic, though it rarely did exactly what I wanted. The first time I'd made the connection, I'd attempted to lift things with my mind like they did in those science fiction films Dad loved. Naturally, it hadn't worked - magic, as it turned out, wasn't quite so straightforward.

The second breakthrough came when I realized each bit of magic required something in exchange. So far, I'd only managed to trade pain for pain - like when I'd given Tommy Richards a splitting headache after he'd punched me in the stomach. Even then, the effects only lasted anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes.

"Felix, Felix, Felix!!" 

"What Louise!" I snapped, yanked from my thoughts.

"The light is green."

"Oh, thanks."

Louise and I continued our familiar route home, chatting about nothing in particular. We'd been walking home together for the past two years, ever since our parents decided we were old enough to handle the journey. They called it "building independence," though personally, I'd have preferred being picked up by Dad so I could doze off in the backseat. The constant magical incidents had left me perpetually exhausted lately.

Last week, I'd accidentally turned Mrs. Peterson's prized roses into plastic flowers when she'd yelled at me for walking across her lawn. The week before that, I'd somehow managed to make all the chalk in our classroom vanish just as Mr. Thompson was about to give us a pop quiz. The incidents were getting harder to explain away, and I could tell Dad was worried about someone noticing.

We crossed several streets before finally reaching Louise's house, with its wooden door painted a rather unfortunate shade of brown and the number 23 hanging slightly crooked above it. Louise fished her keys from her pocket, trying several before finding the right one.

"See you tomorrow at the park, Louise," I called out, waving goodbye.

"See you tomorrow, Felix," she replied, waving back before disappearing inside.

I adjusted my backpack straps with a grunt. Seriously, we had enough books to fill a small library - far too much for any almost-eleven-year-old to carry. As I trudged along the London streets, my thoughts drifted to what Mum had told me about her school days. She'd mentioned something about books that could shrink themselves to fit in your pocket. Now that would be properly useful.

Suddenly, something tugged sharply at my backpack, sending me sprawling onto my bottom in the middle of the pavement.

"Ow!" I yelped, rubbing my sore backside. "What the hell?"

I turned around to find myself face to face with a rather impressive brown spotted owl. In its claws was a thick envelope made of yellowish parchment. My heart nearly stopped when I saw it - I'd heard about this moment my entire life from Mum's stories.

"Finally," I breathed, a grin spreading across my face.

"Hoo," the owl responded, looking rather pleased with itself.

"Nice voice," I said, reaching for the letter. "Now give it here before I Cast Wet Wings."

The owl, apparently familiar with magical threats (or perhaps just eager to complete its delivery), dropped the letter into my waiting hands. The parchment felt heavy and expensive, sealed with a purple wax stamp bearing a coat of arms I recognized instantly from Mum's old school trunk: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding the letter 'H'.

As the owl took flight, I scrambled to my feet. I wanted desperately to tear it open right there on the street, but Mum would never forgive me if I didn't let her witness this moment. She'd been waiting for it almost as long as I had.

I practically ran the rest of the way home, bursting through our front door with all the subtlety of a fireworks display. "Mum! Dad! It's here!"

I found them in the kitchen, Dad attempting to cook dinner while Mum supervised with barely concealed amusement. She took one look at the envelope in my hand and burst into joy.

"It came!" she yelled.

"Phrasing," my dad said, keeping his eye on the egg that looked like it was about to burst from the amount of oil in the pan.

"Let me see, let me see," Mum said, scrambling towards me as fast as she could, almost bumping over the living room table.

Dad abandoned his cooking attempts (much to everyone's relief) and joined us at the table. "Well go on then, son," he said, trying to sound casual though I could hear the excitement in his voice. "Open it up."

With trembling fingers, I broke the seal and pulled out two pieces of parchment. The first bore an elaborate letterhead:

 HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

 Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

 (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

 Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Serendipity,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"I knew it would come today," Mum said, a wild grin on her face. "The cards said it."

The cards - my Mum's favorite course at Hogwarts had been divination, if you couldn't guess, and she was as accurate as most diviners, which ranged from a little to nothing at all. But we weren't going to burst her bubble, especially since she had been right this time (though it was bound to happen since she said the same thing every day after my first magic outburst).

"Now we'll have to visit Diagon Alley," Mum said, already making plans. "You'll need a wand, of course, and robes, and all your books..."

I tuned out her shopping list as I examined the second piece of parchment, which detailed all the required supplies. A cauldron, dragon-hide gloves, a telescope - it all seemed wonderfully magical, something I had been waiting for since forever.

"Will I be able to get a pet?" I asked, interrupting Mum's inventory.

"No," Dad said firmly.

I was about to put on my best sad pouty face, but before I could, he spoke up once more.

"I already had to deal with your mother's owl not liking me. I am not going through that again, plus all the bird shit."

"Howard-" my mother said, slapping his shoulder.

"What? It's true, isn't it? She was even there on our wedding night. I speak for all the Muggles in the world, and we're not keeping an owl more intelligent than your average politician in this house again."

"Tsk," I said while snapping my fingers.

Dad walked back to the kitchen, probably going to remake the already burnt eggs into newer almost-burnt eggs. Meanwhile, Mum and I sat on the sofa.

"Don't worry, we'll go one day by ourselves and buy you something cool, even better than an owl. Besides, your dad is right, magic owls do shit a lot."

"Mum, don't say that."

She ruffled my hair before standing up and heading to the kitchen, probably going to watch over my father since he had taken cooking as his new hobby, much to the dismay of everyone else.

As my parents continued to cook dinner, I kept rereading the letter over and over again. I was going to learn magic.

After years of accidental magic and Mum's stories about the magical world, I was finally going to be a proper wizard. I couldn't wait to grow out a beard of my own and stroke it while being all mysterious and cool - it was going to be amazing.

I thought about telling Louise tomorrow at the park, but of course, I couldn't. The Statute of Secrecy was one of the first things Mum had taught me about the magical world. Still, I wished I could share this moment with my best friend. The thought of not being able to tell her everything anymore made my stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Felix?" Dad's voice broke through my thoughts. "Your dinner's getting cold. Fries and eggs with ham. Bon Appetit."

Mum cut the eggs and began mixing everything together before we could eat it. I barely noticed the taste, my mind still racing with thoughts of what Hogwarts might actually look like. Would it be as grand as Mum described? Would I make new friends there? Would I be any good at magic when I wasn't just accidentally making things happen?

"Oh yeah, I'll have to tell Louise that we won't be able to go to high school together," I said aloud, pushing my food around my plate. I was not going to have a good time with that conversation.

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