"It must be a mistake!"

The words were said with such disbelieve that I had a hard time believing them. My father stood over me as I sat on the straight backed extremely hard chair that was one of the four around our small dining table. He was very angry as he brandished a thick piece of parchment that had come by owl that very morning. My mother sat across from him looking first at him, then at me with an anxious expression on her face. Father had never been this angry before; I thought his face would burst into flame from the shade of red it had become.

You see, my family was all wizards, and each of them: my mother, my father and my older sister, have attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Father had been very disappointed to find that his youngest child, his only son, me, had shown no magical ability at all. I had been disappointed as well, seeing as my sister came home every year with incredible stories about Hogwarts and the things that happened there. I burned with envy and wished hard that something would happen, but my magic never came. I was a squib, and my father hated me.

Understand my surprise when that very morning a letter arrived for me from Hogwarts telling me that I had been accepted and would be expected to take the train at kings cross on September 1st. No one was more shocked than I was. I had no magic, so why had I been accepted? Maybe my abilities hadn't matured yet, or it was as my father said. It must be a mistake.

"Is this some kind of joke." my father was saying as he brandished the envelope.

A smaller piece of paper flew out of the envelope and fluttered on to my empty breakfast plate. It was gray parchment and as I picked it up I saw a looping and elegant handwriting scribed there in glittering pink ink.

Dear Arouris Blackthorn,

It has come to my attention that you have not yet received a letter from Hogwarts. Allow me to correct that mistake. I am enclosing it along with a list of things you will need. I understand that you have a slight problem concerning your magical ability and I assure you that you are no squib. If this letter reaches you before then, please come to Diagon Alley on the 28th of august at noon and meet me on the steps of Gringotts Bank. I will then explain everything to you and your father. I hope you and your family will forgive this sudden trouble and I hope that everything will be made clear when we meet. If your father is reading this he should note well that I will personally come to Ottery St. Catchpole and retrieve you myself if needs be. I look forward to seeing you on said date and hope that we can clear up this issue so you may attend school.

Yours Sincerely,

Mailuin Lovegood

Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

P.S: you might want to walk with money to purchase your things for school.

My head swam. The headmistress herself had written to me. This went beyond anything I had ever imagined. She had also chewed out father. Did she truly believe I could attend Hogwarts? I was a freak, like my older sister always told me. A disgusting magic-less squib.

"What is that? Give it here." my father snapped, snatching the letter from my hand and reading it.

I watched his face go from red to pale faster than you could say "it".

"T-this is. Mailuin." he spluttered. "That wack job. I can't believe this."

"What is it honey? What's wrong?" my mother asked looking worried.

Father balled up the letter and sat down hard in his chair. He rubbed his hand over his face and seemed lost for words.

"What is going on." my mother asked, getting irritated. "Arouris hasn't got any magic, so he can't attend a Wizarding school. We should ignore the letter and..."

"No." My father said sharply, cutting her off. "He will have to go. I will take him to see Mailuin. If I don'..."

I was surprised to see my father so shaken by anything. Was Mailuin Lovegood such a frightening person, or was it the fact that everyone might find out about Anderson Blackthorn's squib son. After all I was the biggest family secret in the Blackthorn household. I was a disgrace on my family's otherwise flawless history. Would Lovegood expose that secret if father didn't comply with her wishes? I did a mental check and realized that tomorrow was august 28th. The letter had come a day before the time.

"Listen well boy." father said sternly, glaring at me. "I will take you to meet that cow tomorrow, you better not disgrace me or you will wish you have been never born. You got that. Let me do all the talking. Don't utter one word to that woman."

I nodded. No problem there, I hardly ever talked anyway, I was more of a thinker.

"Now go to your room and don't come out till I say you can."

I left without a word, my mind crammed full of whizzing thoughts. What was going to happen tomorrow? I seriously couldn't say I was looking forward to it.

My evil sister Anwyn sat on the top of the stairs twirling her wand between her fingers. I hated her. She seemed to live solely to irritate me. She had my father's sharp black eyes and his curly brown hair, and his evil looking smirk. I took after my mother and wished I didn't. With my long straight black hair and pale skin, many have mistaken me for a girl. I hated how I looked: like a pansy.

"Well Well. Someone's in trouble." my sister said slyly as I climbed the stairs. "Making father looks bad. You are a freak Ri-ri, and no letter will change that. Getting a letter from Hogwarts doesn't mean you will be able to do magic, Squib."

I really wanted to hit her. I could feel my palms tingle just thinking how great it would feel to slap her so hard that the blow would break her jaw. She was four years my senior and nearly twice my height because I was small for my age anyway, but I wished could take her down a notch. I clenched my fists and kept walking. I ignored her quiet laughter as I edged pass her and turned left to go to my room.

"That's right." she called after me slyly. "Keep quiet you squib. That's all you're good at. Run along and cry like a good baby."

I bit my tongue as retorts, hot and dangerous, flooded up my throat. My palms tingled so much that I dug my nails into them. I kept walking, and her harsh laughter followed me until I reached my room and closed the door behind me.

I threw myself on my bed and cried hot angry tears into my pillows. I hated to admit it but Anwyn was right, all I could do is cry. Did the letter make things better or worst? I really couldn't tell.