Lily woke up this morning feeling that something wasn’t all right. She looked around her, her bedspread was somehow different… Instead of the one with lilies (a gift from her mother who was so proud of her name), there was one with broomsticks and stars. The redhead got up and headed to her horse-like, blonde, fashion-obsessed sister’s room shouting: “Petunia! By any right did you change my bedspread’s design? And on my birthday!”
Petunia got out of her room, and the two sisters stood in the corridor shouting to each other very imaginative insults. Their mother came saying: “Now girls, please don’t fight. It’s your birthday, Lily dear. So, what happened?” Mrs. Evans was a very beautiful woman, with long, auburn hair and bright green eyes. She looked a lot like her younger daughter, Lily.
“I got up and found that my bedspread was no longer with lilies, it had stars and broomsticks on it!”
“Let’s see this”
Mrs. Evans walked into Lily’s untidy room. She looked at the bed and smiled. “I personally think it’s beautiful. Who did change it? Petunia, did you?”
“It’s not me, mum!” shrieked Petunia.
“Well, we’ll eventually find out. Come down now for breakfast. And Lily, I’ve almost forgot: you’ve got a letter.”
“A letter! Great!” said Lily, a smile forming on her face, but her bedspread not getting out of her mind. It’s like the recorder stuff, she thought. She remembered this story pretty well: Her recorder once needed repairing, she was angry at it and it got repaired just as she was glaring at it. She didn’t know what happened; it just worked at once…
As the two young girls stepped into the dining room followed by their mother, Mr. Evans smiled saying: “How are doing my beautiful flowers? Happy birthday, Lily.” Mr. Evans had blonde hair and blue eyes. He was kind of chubby and loved his daughters.
“Thanks, dad.” Lily said “Where’s my letter, mum?”
“On the table, sweetie.”
Lily took the letter and carefully examined it before opening. The envelope wasn’t made of paper, it was yellowish, it seemed like something else Lily had read about. But it was nearly impossible, since no one used it these days. Yet, it couldn’t be anything apart from… parchment?
It was also addressed in green ink. And it was sealed with an H surrounded by four animals: a lion, a snake, a badger and an eagle. It was really remarkable.
Lily opened the letter. It read:
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 Miss Evans,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Term begins by September the 1st, students should take the Hogwarts Express from platform 9 ¾, King’s Cross station. Therefore, we await your owl by no later than August 31st.
Please ensure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith.
We very look forward to receiving you as a part of the new generation of Hogwarts’ heritage.
Draco dormiens nunquam titillandos.
‘Nice joke, really,’ said Lily, putting the letter down. ‘It would be great if that stuff was real.’
‘What is it, flower?’ asked Mrs. Evans.
‘Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardry!’
‘WOW! Let me see,’ said Petunia, grasping the letter from Lily.
‘Hey! Let Mum see, first!’
‘That ‘s no fair! You never let me see your stuff!’ Petunia started moaning.
‘Girls! Stop arguing for once! Now, Petty,’ their mother said gently, ‘hand me the letter, please.’
She read it once, smiling. ‘You’re right, Lily. It would be really great if it was real!’
‘Well, me,’ started Petunia, but the doorbell rang at this instant.
‘I’m going to see who’s that,’ said Mrs. Evans, getting up.
‘Hello, Mrs. Evans, right?’ Lily’s mother nodded. ‘I’m here to talk to you and your youngest daughter about a school that would like to have her as a student.’
‘Of course, come in. Excuse me; I’m just not dressed properly. You are Mr…?’
‘Figg, Algol Figg.’
‘Come in, Mr. Figg.’
‘These are my daughters: Petunia and Lily. This is my husband, Paul.’
‘Hello, Mr. Evans. Hello, girls. I wanted to see little Lily, the youngest.’
‘That’s me,’ said the redhead, her emerald eyes gleaming.
‘Well, miss Evans. You’ve been accepted in a school; a Wizarding school.’
Paul Evans choked into his tea. ‘A… what school?’
‘A Wizarding school. You see, your daughter is a witch. She can do magic. She just needs to learn how to use her powers: she needs to be trained. We’ll train her, and, after seven years in Hogwarts, she’ll be able to do stuff you can’t even begin to imagine.’
Mr. Evans was now spilling tea all over his shirt. The ‘weird man’ took out a ‘stick’ and pointed it to Lily’s father. After he muttered some words, the tea… vanished.
Everyone was now gaping at him. He turned to Mrs. Evans.
‘Now, Mrs. Evans, what color do you want your dress to be?’
‘What? Um, red…’
He pointed the wand towards her and, muttering other words, he changed her night gown into a red dress.
‘Um, thanks.’ Petunia ran out of the room.
‘So, you’re convinced?’
‘Of course,’ said Mr. Evans. ‘What do we have to do, now?’
‘If Lily wants to go to the school, we’ll meet here at 9 o’clock, tomorrow morning.’
‘Of course I want to!’
‘Well, we’ll go to Diagon Alley to buy the stuff you’ll need for school. See you tomorrow.’
And, with a cheerful wave and smile, he disappeared from their living room. Mrs. Evans stared a the spot Mr. Figg was in a second ago, then fainted.