I don not own Harry Potter. Sadly.

Hogwarts. For wizarding children, it is their dream for the first 11 years of their life. They ache to roam the castles with their friends and siblings; expand their knowledge of magic, pull pranks (not to mention also getting detention- you haven't experienced Hogwarts until you clean cauldrons without magic), and most of all- belong to a house. They spend their young years doing daring stunts like a Gryffindor, making witty jokes like a Ravenclaw, setting ambitious goals like a Slytherin, or just lounging around like a Hufflepuff.

Muggleborns, of course, didn't know about any of this stuff when they were little. They would have odd things happen to them growing up: making hair grow quickly; having a book flutter open to the right page- but they would scoff and forget about it ("Magic isn't real!"). Once they turned eleven, however, they would be introduced into a new world. Their world ("Oh, I knew it!" "See, I wasn't going crazy, mum!" "Magic IS real?!"). As always, there are exceptions.

Take Lily, for instance. At the ripe age of 11 years and 155 days, she has known about magic for two full years. Not unlike her future classmates, the freckled-faced girl spent her nights staring at the stars, dreaming of what they would look like at Hogwarts. Would they be easier to see, without all the pollution from the nearby factories? Both Lily and Severus- the person who led Lily into all of these daydreams and fairytale-like adventures- couldn't help but count down the days until they would board the apparently famous Hogwarts Express. And for the muggleborn—which Lily eventually found out meant born from non-magic people—that day came creeping up on her sooner than expected.

It had started off as any average summer day. 4 July 1971. A Sunday. Two tall girls were the only ones out and about in their neighborhood; the factory smoke made the dense air feel even stickier. The redhead and the blonde were attempting at having a one-on-one basketball match, the latter mostly doing it to humor the former. Of course, the game also gave her a reason to escape her stepmum's complaints about "not going home for independence day!" Despite being separated by bricks and drywall, the middle aged woman's obnoxious "New Yawk" accent was still heard from outside.

"Ha!" Lily cheered as the orange ball flew through the net, accompanied by a "whoosh". "In your face, Tuney!"

Petunia couldn't help but grin as she glanced at her sister, her face shiny with sweat, and almost as red as her hair. "You need a waterbreak, I'll go get the ball."

Lily had a smug look on her face—basketball was really one of the only things the young girl felt accomplished in—and went inside to retrieve a water bottle. By this point, the orange ball had rolled off of their property and into the street. The blonde teenager began chasing it.

Much to her surpise, the ball was stopped by a foot that Petunia was absolutely certain wasn't there before.

"Excuse me, ma'am, can I have the ball back?" The blonde asked politely, only now truly looking at the foot's owner. Despite the heat, they were clad in thick, emerald robes. Her dark, black hair was pulled away from her face and into a thick bun, emphasizing the strict features on her face. Petunia felt as though she wasn't someone to cross, and the she might not be getting the ball back. She's kind of a freak… Petunia couldn't help but think

"Of course." The woman replied in a Scottish accent. She picked it up and handed it the Petunia. "Do you happen to be Lily Evans?"

That made the 14 year old freeze on the spot. What did this freak want with her little sister? "Noo…." Pausing for a moment, Petunia continued. "B-but that Lily is my sister."

Is that satisfaction on her face? The odd stranger spoke again, "Is she home at the moment?"

"Y-yeah…"

"Excellent." The woman began walking towards the Evans household. How does this freak know where we live?! Petunia moved at a quick pace, reaching the driveway just as the woman rang the doorbell.

"Good morning. You must be Mrs. And Mr. Evans." Petunia finally made it to the door, the same time that her father and stepmother did.

"Has Petunia been bothering you?" David Evans questioned, noticing his eldest daughter behind the stranger.

"No, no. I'm here to inquire about Lily."

Karen, Lily and Petunia's stepmum, turned around and made use of her loud voice, "LILLLEEEEE!"

"Yes?" The eleven year old came running into view, just avoiding a crash between her and her guardians; she didn't avoid spilling half of her water bottle in the process. Her face was still beet red.

"I have come to inform you that Lily has been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"

"WHAT?" "I always knew there something strange about your daughter, Dave!" "Witchcraft!?" all joined in with Petunia's barking laugh. Lily even choked on her water. What did this woman hit her head on?

"Just like what Snape said…" Lily whispered quietly, unheard from anyone else.

"I assure you, Mr. and Mrs. Evans, that magic is definitely real."

"Prove it." Karen demanded, crossing her arms and leaning on the front door.

McGonagall looked from Lily to Petunia to Karen to David Evans. Then, after turning to a potted plant on her left and taking out a—piece of wood?—she muttered, "Wingardium Leviosa". The plant rose about a foot in the air.

"Oh my…" The eldest Evans murmured; Karen placed a hand over her heart. Lily, on the other hand, couldn't stop a grin from crossing her face. Snape wasn't lying! It's really true! It's all true!"

"Lily," McGonagall turned to the redhead, returning the plant to the ground."Have you ever made anything happen? Anything unsual?"

Memories flashed through Lily's mind, but she felt as though she were going through them for the first time: flying off of the swing, making flowers contract, Karen's orange hair dye turning blue the night before her wedding…. Emerald eyes glanced up at the tall lady. "Yes. Loads of times."

She handed the 11 year old an envelope.

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 Ms. Evans,

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

A memory flashed through Lily's mind;

"It is real, isn't it? It's not a joke? Petunia says you're lying to me. Petunia says there isn't a Hogwarts. It is real, isn't it?"

"It's real for us, not for her. But we'll get the letter, you and me."

Hogwarts was meant of magical children. Children who fly on broomsticks, turn rats into teacups, make potions that could cure things muggles only dreamed of. With the letter, Lily Evan's Hogwarts adventure was only beginning.

Please review, pretty pretty please? :)