The letter

13 Grape Mint Street. Also known as the house with the most beautiful garden in the entire village of Lacock, in the south of England. In a two-story house painted sky blue, in one of its rooms, one of its residents is waking up to welcome a very special day that will change his life from that moment on.

"It should arrive today." Thought the young man as he got up from the bed and put his feet in his slippers. But when he was about to put his right foot in, he felt something inside the slipper and looked down.

A small, black-eyed creature with dark, fluffy, silky fur with a characteristic platypus snout looked up from him and groaned at being woken up so abruptly.

"Hermes! I have told you many times not to sleep in my slippers. Don't we prepare you a nice comfortable nest in the garden?"

But the niffler began to move its shoulders and arms to argue its case expressively.

"Okay, okay. How about you come down to see what's for breakfast?"

At the mention of food, Hermes halted his speech, standing still momentarily before nodding and leaving the room under the door, smaller than his fluffy body would suggest.

The boy laughed at the predictable behavior of his duck-billed friend. Maybe it was because of all the time they had been together, but he was the only one in the house who understood what Hermes was saying.

He went to the bathroom to clear his head and wash his face with cold water, after which he stared at his reflection for a moment.

"I think I'll go with brunette today," he murmured.

With a thought, his shoulder-length black hair changed to a slightly curly auburn fringe.

Ever since his family explained to him that he had a talent similar to something called a "metamorphmagus," but he couldn't make significant changes.

It saved a lot of time and money by allowing me to do what muggles took hours to do.

He had light brown eyes with almost imperceptible lines of light deep within, a well-proportioned body resulting from his properly balanced diet, and accompanying his family on their morning exercises. He was shorter than the other kids his age if he had to point out a flaw. And though he could change that with his metamorphmagus ability, he wasn't so insecure. Besides, if he starts making too many changes, he may end up hating his original appearance.

Changing into comfortable clothes, he headed downstairs through the halls with shelves built-in lined with an obscene amount of books. He was greeted with a breakfast of fruit, eggs, sausage, orange juice, and a squirrel-shaped piece of dark chocolate. Hermes, who was eating his favorite berries in a shiny golden bowl, waved paws in greeting.

"Morning, Mom," he greeted before sitting down and eating calmly.

The woman, who looked to be in her thirties, with sculpted, stocky, muscular arms, short hair dyed dark green, and dark eyes, turned around and gave him a motherly smile.

"Good morning, son. Hmm, decided to go wavy brunette, I see. It looks nice. I've always liked this option," she replied as she approached him and kissed him on the forehead before preparing the rest of the breakfast for the family.

Her name was Martha, and her biggest hobbies were exercising with music, cooking, and gardening. Everyone in the house ate the special diet she prepared, which is why she had excellent health and was physically fit. Occasionally, they'd eat sweets, but it is usually reserved for a special occasion, which, in her opinion, makes it taste better.

"Did anyone order fresh strawberries?" Another woman came into the kitchen with a basket of strawberries from the garden and set them down beside Martha.

"Good morning, Mom."

"Good morning, son." Ann returned the greeting to her son before looking at Martha and sharing a quick kiss on her lips.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

The boy at the breakfast table couldn't help but roll his eyes at the display of love that his two mothers repeat every morning in front of him.

"How is the birthday boy feeling this morning?" she asked after sitting down next to her. Ann was half a head taller than Martha; she had long, braided dark blue hair and a softer, fuller build. She practiced as a lawyer, and money was never a problem, thanks to her. "It's not every day you turn eleven."

"A little nervous," the boy admitted after drinking his orange juice. "Has it arrived yet?" he asked as he looked out the window.

Ann's smile dimmed slightly at the question, but it quickly returned.

"Don't worry, it's still early. Even owls have to eat before taking flight," she soothed as she exchanged glances with her partner.

Martha and Ann are both squibs. They were born into a wizarding family but couldn't use magic, earning them a hard life. They had access to everything wonderful in the wizarding world but couldn't use much of it and were long since disowned by their families for their condition.

Just when they were at the lowest point of their lives, their son arrived unexpectedly in the middle of an explosion of green flames in the fireplace of their home.

And though they loved their son as their own, they still doubted whether the Hogwarts acceptance pen would deign to write the name of a child whose guardians were squibs.

But if Muggle-born wizards get the letter, there shouldn't be a problem, right? Getting discriminated against for being a muggle-born is pretty bad, but being the son of two squibs who were disowned might be even worse, so Hogwarts might not even accept him for his safety.

They weren't worried that the boy was one of them. He had proven long ago that magic was something within his grasp. The garden on his property was created by magic when their son was younger.

One day, Ann returned home devastated. She had put much effort into it just to lose the case to a legal loophole that wasn't even clever. She sat alone in the backyard because she didn't want anyone to see her crying out of sheer frustration, but her son found her. To cheer her up, he suddenly grew a garden that housed many odd but beautiful plants, their colors so vivid and scents so delicate that Ann couldn't help but hug him as she cried, but this time, they were tears of happiness.

The love of her son moved her and when Martha found out what had happened, they decided to take care of the garden as one of their greatest treasures...

"It's here!" exclaimed an excited Martha as she pointed towards an owl perched on the windowsill.

There, a golden-eyed brown owl watched them in silence, with a letter in its beak sealed with wax and a very recognizable mark.

In Ann's excitement, she flung the window open, forgetting that the owl was directly in the way of the window and knocking the owl to the ground with a thud. She stared frozen at the unconscious owl on the grass. "Is it dead?"

Hermes jumped out of the window and took the letter before returning and handing it to the boy.

"Thank you, Hermes." The boy petted the Niffler and carefully read the letter while his mothers rushed behind him and read, too.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Dear Sir, Aurelius Galegold Evans Valriss Aulus

We are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please note the list of necessary equipment and books. Classes begin on September 1. We hope to see your owl before July 31. Very cordially,

Minerva McGonagall - Vice Headmistress

PS: A list with all the necessary school supplies is attached.

They all yelled, scaring Hermes in the process and causing him to almost fall off the table, which he clung tightly to the edge and managed to get back on.

"It's time that we take a trip to Diagon Alley!" said the excited squibs.