Jenny's Tale
A large tray of assorted chocolates, each in a different coloured wrapper, lay on the surface before the girl. She smacked her chubby lips greedily, before her small piggy eyes came to rest a chocolate with a bright green wrapper. Before looking around triumphantly, she took the chocolate, took it out of its wrapper, and chewed it slowly, savouring its taste, and making many obvious pleasurable noises as to how delicious the chocolate was. She cast a sly sideways glance at the small children who were peering around a corner at her, there were three of them. All were small, skinny and under-grown. The girl casually selected another chocolate from the vast tray, this time one with a purple wrapper, and ate it leisurely. She loved doing this, tempting the little scraps into coming up and begging her for a chocolate, and then smugly refusing, unwrapping another herself.
That was the only reason she stayed in this dreary orphanage, she had power over the other girls that lived there. Though she, like all the others, had no parents, she did have an elderly uncle, who adored her, and insisted on sending her large food packages in return for not being able to keep her in his house. He also paid her several visits a month, coming to the orphanage to take her out to a concert or some posh restaurant where she could eat as much as she wanted. No, she didn't care that she didn't live with him. Though he had a large house and a vast estate, there would be no-one of her age there, and no-one she had power over. She preferred staying here, being the only orphan who had any relative what so ever. She liked her power, and meant for it to stay that way.
She waited by the front-door of the orphanage, waiting for the postman, she was always the only orphan who got any post around here. She liked greeting the postman and taking her post smugly up to the dormitory where she paraded around with it, enjoying the looks on the other girls' faces, of disappointment and jealousy. She giggled spitefully to herself; she loved her life.
She stared silently through the window, down on to the small garden, and then on to the road after it, cars driving by, unaware of the awful lives the girls in Mrs Andrews' establishment led. They weren't underfed, or anything like that, but they weren't shown any love, of any sort by the strict old woman. She was all about order, and was highly educated, having no time for affection; which so many of the girls in her care craved. Unlike some of the others, she remembered nothing of her life before the orphanage, she had been found in the arms of a dead young mother one dark winter's night, with only a name. Jennifer. Now called Jenny affectionately by her closer friends at the orphanage, such as a girl a few years younger than her named Fran, whom she slept on the bunk on top of, also the kitchen assistant, a young woman of eighteen named Isabel. Though she didn't know her exact date of birth, she knew she was roughly eleven- years-old, that making her one of the oldest girls in the orphanage, and meaning that next year; she would be going to the local high-school, instead of being taught in the classroom by Mrs Andrews. Jenny looked forward to this, because it meant that she would be able to get some freedom from the orphanage for a while, having never left the building apart from on rare occasions, all through her life.
She moved her eyes down on to a man approaching the house with a bag slung over his shoulder; the postman. She turned away in disgust, again, as always, the fat and spoilt Orla collected the post, smiling toothily at the postman, and thanking him heartily, before going through the post and picking out her pieces, putting them directly on top. They were normally large parcels or bulging envelopes. The rest of the mail there, being for Mrs Andrews. Orla was the only girl in the orphanage who had a living relative, an elderly uncle, she would say at least once an hour how much she regretted being the only girl who had a live relative in the whole orphanage, with a huge grin plastered across her pasty face! Jenny disliked her intensely, though never went to the level of hatred, which was something she never went as far as. Orla treated her uncle as a way to get food and show-off in front of the others; it disgusted Jenny. She wished for a relative who would love her, Orla only wanted one as a way to get more attention and food.
Jenny would often sit and think about what life would be like to have a family; she watched a mother and her teenage daughter walk by, arm in arm, both beaming over their faces. Another young couple with their baby, and by the look of the young wife, another on the way, the husband kissed his wife and hugged his baby tight. How Jenny had often longed for love of that sort, to have someone who wanted, and loved her, but who was she kidding? No-one would ever love her that way. She watched as the postman walked away, a silent tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away and jumped down from her bunk, there was nothing she could do, all she could do was make the best of life.
Jenny wandered out of the dormitory, along the passage and down the staircase, she heard shouting downstairs, someone was obviously upset about something. It turned out to be Orla, she was screaming her head off about a letter 'not being addressed to her', she was ranting about the entrance hall with a small group of girls watching in interest. One of whom was Fran. She smiled at her friend and showed her a letter,
"It's addressed to you," she said, passing Jenny the letter. Jenny gasped. She'd never had a letter in her whole life…who could it be from? She looked at the heavy brown envelope, made from a parchment kind of paper, very different to the flimsy white A4 paper that Mrs Andrews gave them to use in lessons. On the front was written:
Miss Jennifer Tailor,
The Dormitory,
Mrs Andrews' Orphanage for Girls,
Palmer Street,
Stoking,
Dorset.
The first thing that caught Jenny's eye was the name…Jennifer Tailor? No- one had ever known her surname. She gasped as she turned over the envelope to find a wax crest on the back which depicted a lion, snake, badger and eagle, with some Latin or Greek writing underneath it. She opened the envelope with trembling hands, all the girls around her held their breath. She slit it carefully so that the crest wasn't damaged, and carefully opened the envelope…
"No!" Orla had stopped giving a tantrum and had noticed Jenny there. "That should be addressed to me; I'm the only girl in this orphanage who gets post."
"It's labelled to Jenny," Fran retaliated angrily. Orla looked livid,
"Yeah, well she doesn't have any family, skinny features."
"You shut up, stop insulting my friend," Jenny said angrily back. Orla glared at her,
"Give me the envelope," she said, her voice very dangerous.
"No," Jenny replied, "it'd addressed to me, and I'm going to open it." Orla looked thunder-struck.
"Who'd be writing to you?" she shouted in Jenny's face, spraying her with spit. "You've got no family, only I have…"
"Well, this is my turn, back off Orla!" Jenny wasn't going to be bullied this time. Orla backed-off; she'd never been threatened in this way before.
"Fine!" she shouted, "open it! But you'll find it's for me, and I'll laugh at you every day for the rest of your life." A glare from Jenny silenced her; she opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of thick parchment, and read aloud:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WIZARDRY AND WITCHCRAFT
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Miss Tailor,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl no later than 31st July.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Jenny put down the parchment and gazed at the girls around her, most of them were staring at her in bewilderment, Fran was shaking her head with a look of astonishment and Orla looked thunderstruck.
"Jenny?" Fran asked, looking at her, "what's it all mean?" Jenny gazed at her and shook her head vaguely.
"I haven't got a clue," she replied.
"Could it be a joke? Orla?" They all turned to stare at the very- pale Orla.
"What? You think I did this? No, of course I didn't! I wouldn't do something so immature." Jenny stared long and hard at her, though far from it being immature a thing for Orla to do, she came to the conclusion that the girl was too thick to have thought up such a trick. Jenny turned her head away from Orla's round, confused face and turned to Fran who had been examining the envelope.
"Jenny," Fran said, "there's another sheet of paper in here, well, I don't think it's paper, it's more ancient-looking than paper, kind of a sort of parchment. Well, anyway, there's another piece with more writing on it. Read it out." Jenny took the second piece of parchment and read aloud from the second piece of paper:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WIZARDRY AND WITCHCRAFT
Uniform
First-year students will require:
Three sets of plain work robes (black)
One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.
Set Books
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
Other Equipment
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT THE FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
Jenny stared at the sheet of parchment in her hand as she read it over and over again; it couldn't be true…could it? The other girls were looking as bewildered as she was. The silence was eventually broken by Orla, who was standing with a huge smirk plastered over her pasty-face.
"Wands? Cauldrons? Broomsticks? Oh what a joke! And Parents? How many times must I remind you? Everyone knows that I'm the only girl in this orphanage who has a relative, the rest of you have no-one in the world." She laughed sarcastically and waddled away, her harsh laughter echoing in the large, cold entrance hall. Jenny re-read both pieces of parchment; and collapsed on a nearby chair, completely bewildered. Fran and the other girls were motionless and silent for a while, until they all walked over to Jenny and stood around her. Fran touched her shoulder lightly. Jenny looked up; her eyes met Fran's. They were all as shocked as each other, no-one understood.
Jenny stared long and hard at her bowl of cornflakes, it was a week later, and she still had no idea who had sent her that letter. She had since received three more. ad since received three more. Aannoy Jenny.hem the same. eek later, and she still had no idea who had sent her that letter.____ll of them the same as the first one. Orla was now going around making every effort to upset or annoy Jenny. Having just that morning tried to trip her up in the corridor, on the way down to breakfast.
Fran looked at Jenny from the other side of the table, and played with her cornflakes in her own bowl, before suggesting,
"Why don't you tell Mrs Andrews?" Jenny looked up at Fran, a look of bewilderment on her face.
"Should I?" she replied uncertainly, "would she believe me and not think it was a joke? You know how strict and severe she can be. If she thought we were trying to trick her…"
"What else is there to try?" Fran stared resolutely a Jenny, her pale blue eyes seemed fixed and certain that this would be the best course of action. Jenny gave in.
"Alright," she replied, "let's go and see her after breakfast, she should be in her study." Fran nodded, and tucked happily into her now very soggy cornflakes.
After breakfast, Jenny and Fran left with the other girls, and headed straight to Mrs Andrews' study, feeling a little nervous as to whether she would believe them or not. Jenny knocked twice, firmly and strongly, because if Mrs Andrews thought she sensed any hesitation, she was less likely to believe them.
"Enter," her unusually low-voice sounded crisp and commanding from inside the office. The girls entered hurriedly, and closed the door softly behind them. Mrs Andrews was sitting at her desk, a strict and firm old woman, with her grey hair tied tightly back in a bun, wearing an immaculate crisp white shirt and grey tweed suit. "What can I do for you girls, Jennifer? Francesca?" Jenny swallowed hard, and bunched up her confidence. She took a pace forwards, and placed the envelope containing the papers gently on the desk.
"Please Mrs Andrews, I've had three exactly like this one sent to me already, and I don't understand what they mean, whether it's a joke or not." Mrs Andrews looked a bit startled. She nodded slowly, and took out some thin-framed spectacles.
"Very well, sit while I have a look," she replied, crisply. The two girls sat in two nearby seats and waited anxiously as Mrs Andrews opened the envelope and read both sheets of paper, as well as examining the envelope as well.
Finally, she put the sheets of parchment back in the envelope, and took off the glasses, put them in their case and gave a small sigh, before turning back to the girls, looking completely calm. To Jenny's astonishment, she sounded neither bewildered nor suspicious.
"I had been wondering how long it would be before you got called to Hogwarts, Jennifer," she said quite calmly, as if the letter had been nothing more than Jenny receiving an application to join a book club or something.
"What?" Jenny exclaimed, "you knew about this all along?" To her surprise, Mrs Andrews laughed.
"Knew? Of course I knew, dear girl, I went to that school myself. Yes, Minerva is a good friend of mine; we went to the school together." Fran's mouth was wide open; she was goggling at Mrs Andrews. "No need to do a goldfish impression, Francesca," she added crisply, noticing Fran. Fran immediately closed her mouth and turned away, embarrassed.
"But, Mrs Andrews," Jenny persisted, "does that mean you're a well…a witch?" She waited for the volcano to erupt, and for her to be given an extremely cutting remark. But, instead, Mrs Andrews merely nodded.
"Yes, I am a witch, have been ever since I left Hogwarts, though, I decided to return to the muggle world and take a degree in university instead, though I'd still have my link to the wizarding world, I preferred muggle living."
"What do you mean by muggle?" Fran asked before she could stop herself.
"Why, non-wizard folk Francesca, though, I have yet to find out if there are any other Hogwarts candidates in the orphanage, Jenny is the first. I knew that she was one, because her mother was…well…she was the daughter of a friend of mine. And…I took her in, to keep an eye on her and such. Though, we must reply. It's rude not too, follow me girls, and mark my words, speak of this to no-one." Jenny and Fran exchanged curious glances and followed Mrs Andrews through a door in her study which led to the part of the building in which she lived.
The rooms were furnished as Jenny remembered them. The same bold and dark colours around the old-fashioned parlour, dinning-room and hallway. Though Mrs Andrews led them into the kitchen and through a stout wooden door and into what had to be her larder, it was cold in that larder, and there was no carpet upon the bare flag-stoned floor. Jenny shivered a little as Mrs Andrews took a large key from a peg by the door, and fitted it into a key- hole hidden by a large bucket. The next thing that happened made Jenny gasp, and Fran let out a high-pitched squeak of surprise. One of the flag- stones slid out of place and revealed a staircase leading directly down. Mrs Andrews started to climb down these stairs, Jenny and Fran hesitantly following, being careful not to touch the sides of the staircase lest they melt away or something strange like that.
The stairs seemed to go on for a long time; and Jenny was growing a bit more anxious with every step. Though soon they reached a large stout oak door with a tarnished bronze handle and large key-hole. Mrs Andrews produced a large, slightly rusted bronze key from her pocket and fitted it to the lock. After letting off a dull 'click' the door swung forwards to let them enter, without Mrs Andrews touching it at all. She then led the way into an underground chamber. Jenny stared about her in amazement, all the years she'd been at the orphanage, she'd never known of the secret which Mrs Andrews had under the orphanage. The room was lit by flaming torches, which stood at several intervals in brackets along the walls. On a perch not far away slept a tawny owl with its head under its wing, Jenny gazed in wonder at it. Then she turned to look around at the shelves of books to one side, there were many titles, The Dragon Dictionary, Raising and Breeding Salamanders, a Beginners Guide, and other books on cookery Magical Methods of Bakery and Cake-making, bake a cake in 30 seconds! Though in all the room, the thing that amazed Jenny the most were the pictures which hung on the walls. They were…moving. She watched in amazement as an old man in a portrait scratched his ear and a horse in another picture galloped across a field, emitting a small whiny. Fran seemed equally amazed, and the two girls caught each other's looks, Fran raised her eye-brows at Jenny. Though their attention was soon turned back to Mrs Andrews, who was rooting around in a draw for something. Pieces of parchment flew everywhere as she searched for what she was looking for. At last, she got up and drew out a small piece of parchment and a quill with what looked like it was crafted from an eagle's feather.
Jenny and Fran drew near and peered at what Mrs Andrews wrote in her old- fashioned curly handwriting,
'Dear Minerva,' she wrote, 'I hope that you are well. Jennifer Tailor received her letter from Hogwarts, though neglected to show it to me for a few days.' Jenny felt her insides do a sort of somersault, 'Probably quite understandable, due to the child's situation.' At reading this, Jenny felt suddenly better. 'I will be taking her to Diagon Alley this coming Saturday to help her buy the necessary things. We really must meet some time for lunch, I will look forward to seeing the wizarding world again, Best Wishes and my Love, Maeve Andrews.
Mrs Andrews went over to the stand and gently prodded the owl, which gave a disgruntled hoot and stared at Mrs Andrews through sleepy amber eyes.
"Come along Tarna, wake up, there's a good bird, got a job for you, I know it's been a while, feel up to it?" The owl immediately spread his impressive wing-span to its full-length and held out a leg eagerly. Mrs Andrews smiled a the owl's eagerness and tied the note securely to it. She then took Tarna to a small grate-window and watched as he soared upwards into the sky. Without a word to either of their girls, Mrs Andrews swept out of the chamber and up the stairs, with the two girls scuttling along behind her. When they were again in her kitchen, and the flag-stone had solidified back into place; Mrs Andrews returned to look at the gawping faces of Jenny and Fran.
"Well, no need to do more goldfish impressions," she said, returning to her usual, crisp manner. "You have a French lesson with Monsieur Bordeux now, both of you, hurry off; I have a maths lesson to prepare for your lesson afterward, hurry off now you two, or you'll be late. Oh, and remember what I said, speak no word of that to anyone." With that, the girls hurried off to go to their first lesson of that day, which was indeed, French, with the chubby, red French teacher, Monsieur Bordeaux.
Though Monsieur Bordeaux's prattling on about French verbs and tenses did not register at all in Jenny's mind, which was filled with thoughts chasing each other about through the corridors of her mind. Was she really a witch? Would she be going to a Magic School? Where she would be learning magic spells and using a magic wand? She day-dreamed about what the school would be like, the people she would see there. Though some things she had heard Mrs Andrews talk about, and some things she had seen her do confused her, why had she sent the note off with an owl? And one book title stuck in her mind The Dragon Dictionary. Dragons?? The lesson went passed really quickly without Jenny hearing a word, and five minutes before the end of the lesson, Jenny forced herself to snap out of her trance, in order to take up the notes which had been written down that lesson.
As she walked out of the classroom and to the next lesson, which was maths with Mrs Andrews, Jenny was confronted by Fran,
"Jenny?" she asked, "what are you going to do? Are you going to go?" Jenny looked down at her best friend and smiled.
"Yeah," she replied smiling, "I am." Fran smiled benignly at her, just imagining Orla's face when she found out that Jenny was going to be a witch!
A large tray of assorted chocolates, each in a different coloured wrapper, lay on the surface before the girl. She smacked her chubby lips greedily, before her small piggy eyes came to rest a chocolate with a bright green wrapper. Before looking around triumphantly, she took the chocolate, took it out of its wrapper, and chewed it slowly, savouring its taste, and making many obvious pleasurable noises as to how delicious the chocolate was. She cast a sly sideways glance at the small children who were peering around a corner at her, there were three of them. All were small, skinny and under-grown. The girl casually selected another chocolate from the vast tray, this time one with a purple wrapper, and ate it leisurely. She loved doing this, tempting the little scraps into coming up and begging her for a chocolate, and then smugly refusing, unwrapping another herself.
That was the only reason she stayed in this dreary orphanage, she had power over the other girls that lived there. Though she, like all the others, had no parents, she did have an elderly uncle, who adored her, and insisted on sending her large food packages in return for not being able to keep her in his house. He also paid her several visits a month, coming to the orphanage to take her out to a concert or some posh restaurant where she could eat as much as she wanted. No, she didn't care that she didn't live with him. Though he had a large house and a vast estate, there would be no-one of her age there, and no-one she had power over. She preferred staying here, being the only orphan who had any relative what so ever. She liked her power, and meant for it to stay that way.
She waited by the front-door of the orphanage, waiting for the postman, she was always the only orphan who got any post around here. She liked greeting the postman and taking her post smugly up to the dormitory where she paraded around with it, enjoying the looks on the other girls' faces, of disappointment and jealousy. She giggled spitefully to herself; she loved her life.
She stared silently through the window, down on to the small garden, and then on to the road after it, cars driving by, unaware of the awful lives the girls in Mrs Andrews' establishment led. They weren't underfed, or anything like that, but they weren't shown any love, of any sort by the strict old woman. She was all about order, and was highly educated, having no time for affection; which so many of the girls in her care craved. Unlike some of the others, she remembered nothing of her life before the orphanage, she had been found in the arms of a dead young mother one dark winter's night, with only a name. Jennifer. Now called Jenny affectionately by her closer friends at the orphanage, such as a girl a few years younger than her named Fran, whom she slept on the bunk on top of, also the kitchen assistant, a young woman of eighteen named Isabel. Though she didn't know her exact date of birth, she knew she was roughly eleven- years-old, that making her one of the oldest girls in the orphanage, and meaning that next year; she would be going to the local high-school, instead of being taught in the classroom by Mrs Andrews. Jenny looked forward to this, because it meant that she would be able to get some freedom from the orphanage for a while, having never left the building apart from on rare occasions, all through her life.
She moved her eyes down on to a man approaching the house with a bag slung over his shoulder; the postman. She turned away in disgust, again, as always, the fat and spoilt Orla collected the post, smiling toothily at the postman, and thanking him heartily, before going through the post and picking out her pieces, putting them directly on top. They were normally large parcels or bulging envelopes. The rest of the mail there, being for Mrs Andrews. Orla was the only girl in the orphanage who had a living relative, an elderly uncle, she would say at least once an hour how much she regretted being the only girl who had a live relative in the whole orphanage, with a huge grin plastered across her pasty face! Jenny disliked her intensely, though never went to the level of hatred, which was something she never went as far as. Orla treated her uncle as a way to get food and show-off in front of the others; it disgusted Jenny. She wished for a relative who would love her, Orla only wanted one as a way to get more attention and food.
Jenny would often sit and think about what life would be like to have a family; she watched a mother and her teenage daughter walk by, arm in arm, both beaming over their faces. Another young couple with their baby, and by the look of the young wife, another on the way, the husband kissed his wife and hugged his baby tight. How Jenny had often longed for love of that sort, to have someone who wanted, and loved her, but who was she kidding? No-one would ever love her that way. She watched as the postman walked away, a silent tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away and jumped down from her bunk, there was nothing she could do, all she could do was make the best of life.
Jenny wandered out of the dormitory, along the passage and down the staircase, she heard shouting downstairs, someone was obviously upset about something. It turned out to be Orla, she was screaming her head off about a letter 'not being addressed to her', she was ranting about the entrance hall with a small group of girls watching in interest. One of whom was Fran. She smiled at her friend and showed her a letter,
"It's addressed to you," she said, passing Jenny the letter. Jenny gasped. She'd never had a letter in her whole life…who could it be from? She looked at the heavy brown envelope, made from a parchment kind of paper, very different to the flimsy white A4 paper that Mrs Andrews gave them to use in lessons. On the front was written:
Miss Jennifer Tailor,
The Dormitory,
Mrs Andrews' Orphanage for Girls,
Palmer Street,
Stoking,
Dorset.
The first thing that caught Jenny's eye was the name…Jennifer Tailor? No- one had ever known her surname. She gasped as she turned over the envelope to find a wax crest on the back which depicted a lion, snake, badger and eagle, with some Latin or Greek writing underneath it. She opened the envelope with trembling hands, all the girls around her held their breath. She slit it carefully so that the crest wasn't damaged, and carefully opened the envelope…
"No!" Orla had stopped giving a tantrum and had noticed Jenny there. "That should be addressed to me; I'm the only girl in this orphanage who gets post."
"It's labelled to Jenny," Fran retaliated angrily. Orla looked livid,
"Yeah, well she doesn't have any family, skinny features."
"You shut up, stop insulting my friend," Jenny said angrily back. Orla glared at her,
"Give me the envelope," she said, her voice very dangerous.
"No," Jenny replied, "it'd addressed to me, and I'm going to open it." Orla looked thunder-struck.
"Who'd be writing to you?" she shouted in Jenny's face, spraying her with spit. "You've got no family, only I have…"
"Well, this is my turn, back off Orla!" Jenny wasn't going to be bullied this time. Orla backed-off; she'd never been threatened in this way before.
"Fine!" she shouted, "open it! But you'll find it's for me, and I'll laugh at you every day for the rest of your life." A glare from Jenny silenced her; she opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of thick parchment, and read aloud:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WIZARDRY AND WITCHCRAFT
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Miss Tailor,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl no later than 31st July.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Jenny put down the parchment and gazed at the girls around her, most of them were staring at her in bewilderment, Fran was shaking her head with a look of astonishment and Orla looked thunderstruck.
"Jenny?" Fran asked, looking at her, "what's it all mean?" Jenny gazed at her and shook her head vaguely.
"I haven't got a clue," she replied.
"Could it be a joke? Orla?" They all turned to stare at the very- pale Orla.
"What? You think I did this? No, of course I didn't! I wouldn't do something so immature." Jenny stared long and hard at her, though far from it being immature a thing for Orla to do, she came to the conclusion that the girl was too thick to have thought up such a trick. Jenny turned her head away from Orla's round, confused face and turned to Fran who had been examining the envelope.
"Jenny," Fran said, "there's another sheet of paper in here, well, I don't think it's paper, it's more ancient-looking than paper, kind of a sort of parchment. Well, anyway, there's another piece with more writing on it. Read it out." Jenny took the second piece of parchment and read aloud from the second piece of paper:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WIZARDRY AND WITCHCRAFT
Uniform
First-year students will require:
Three sets of plain work robes (black)
One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.
Set Books
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
Other Equipment
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT THE FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
Jenny stared at the sheet of parchment in her hand as she read it over and over again; it couldn't be true…could it? The other girls were looking as bewildered as she was. The silence was eventually broken by Orla, who was standing with a huge smirk plastered over her pasty-face.
"Wands? Cauldrons? Broomsticks? Oh what a joke! And Parents? How many times must I remind you? Everyone knows that I'm the only girl in this orphanage who has a relative, the rest of you have no-one in the world." She laughed sarcastically and waddled away, her harsh laughter echoing in the large, cold entrance hall. Jenny re-read both pieces of parchment; and collapsed on a nearby chair, completely bewildered. Fran and the other girls were motionless and silent for a while, until they all walked over to Jenny and stood around her. Fran touched her shoulder lightly. Jenny looked up; her eyes met Fran's. They were all as shocked as each other, no-one understood.
Jenny stared long and hard at her bowl of cornflakes, it was a week later, and she still had no idea who had sent her that letter. She had since received three more. ad since received three more. Aannoy Jenny.hem the same. eek later, and she still had no idea who had sent her that letter.____ll of them the same as the first one. Orla was now going around making every effort to upset or annoy Jenny. Having just that morning tried to trip her up in the corridor, on the way down to breakfast.
Fran looked at Jenny from the other side of the table, and played with her cornflakes in her own bowl, before suggesting,
"Why don't you tell Mrs Andrews?" Jenny looked up at Fran, a look of bewilderment on her face.
"Should I?" she replied uncertainly, "would she believe me and not think it was a joke? You know how strict and severe she can be. If she thought we were trying to trick her…"
"What else is there to try?" Fran stared resolutely a Jenny, her pale blue eyes seemed fixed and certain that this would be the best course of action. Jenny gave in.
"Alright," she replied, "let's go and see her after breakfast, she should be in her study." Fran nodded, and tucked happily into her now very soggy cornflakes.
After breakfast, Jenny and Fran left with the other girls, and headed straight to Mrs Andrews' study, feeling a little nervous as to whether she would believe them or not. Jenny knocked twice, firmly and strongly, because if Mrs Andrews thought she sensed any hesitation, she was less likely to believe them.
"Enter," her unusually low-voice sounded crisp and commanding from inside the office. The girls entered hurriedly, and closed the door softly behind them. Mrs Andrews was sitting at her desk, a strict and firm old woman, with her grey hair tied tightly back in a bun, wearing an immaculate crisp white shirt and grey tweed suit. "What can I do for you girls, Jennifer? Francesca?" Jenny swallowed hard, and bunched up her confidence. She took a pace forwards, and placed the envelope containing the papers gently on the desk.
"Please Mrs Andrews, I've had three exactly like this one sent to me already, and I don't understand what they mean, whether it's a joke or not." Mrs Andrews looked a bit startled. She nodded slowly, and took out some thin-framed spectacles.
"Very well, sit while I have a look," she replied, crisply. The two girls sat in two nearby seats and waited anxiously as Mrs Andrews opened the envelope and read both sheets of paper, as well as examining the envelope as well.
Finally, she put the sheets of parchment back in the envelope, and took off the glasses, put them in their case and gave a small sigh, before turning back to the girls, looking completely calm. To Jenny's astonishment, she sounded neither bewildered nor suspicious.
"I had been wondering how long it would be before you got called to Hogwarts, Jennifer," she said quite calmly, as if the letter had been nothing more than Jenny receiving an application to join a book club or something.
"What?" Jenny exclaimed, "you knew about this all along?" To her surprise, Mrs Andrews laughed.
"Knew? Of course I knew, dear girl, I went to that school myself. Yes, Minerva is a good friend of mine; we went to the school together." Fran's mouth was wide open; she was goggling at Mrs Andrews. "No need to do a goldfish impression, Francesca," she added crisply, noticing Fran. Fran immediately closed her mouth and turned away, embarrassed.
"But, Mrs Andrews," Jenny persisted, "does that mean you're a well…a witch?" She waited for the volcano to erupt, and for her to be given an extremely cutting remark. But, instead, Mrs Andrews merely nodded.
"Yes, I am a witch, have been ever since I left Hogwarts, though, I decided to return to the muggle world and take a degree in university instead, though I'd still have my link to the wizarding world, I preferred muggle living."
"What do you mean by muggle?" Fran asked before she could stop herself.
"Why, non-wizard folk Francesca, though, I have yet to find out if there are any other Hogwarts candidates in the orphanage, Jenny is the first. I knew that she was one, because her mother was…well…she was the daughter of a friend of mine. And…I took her in, to keep an eye on her and such. Though, we must reply. It's rude not too, follow me girls, and mark my words, speak of this to no-one." Jenny and Fran exchanged curious glances and followed Mrs Andrews through a door in her study which led to the part of the building in which she lived.
The rooms were furnished as Jenny remembered them. The same bold and dark colours around the old-fashioned parlour, dinning-room and hallway. Though Mrs Andrews led them into the kitchen and through a stout wooden door and into what had to be her larder, it was cold in that larder, and there was no carpet upon the bare flag-stoned floor. Jenny shivered a little as Mrs Andrews took a large key from a peg by the door, and fitted it into a key- hole hidden by a large bucket. The next thing that happened made Jenny gasp, and Fran let out a high-pitched squeak of surprise. One of the flag- stones slid out of place and revealed a staircase leading directly down. Mrs Andrews started to climb down these stairs, Jenny and Fran hesitantly following, being careful not to touch the sides of the staircase lest they melt away or something strange like that.
The stairs seemed to go on for a long time; and Jenny was growing a bit more anxious with every step. Though soon they reached a large stout oak door with a tarnished bronze handle and large key-hole. Mrs Andrews produced a large, slightly rusted bronze key from her pocket and fitted it to the lock. After letting off a dull 'click' the door swung forwards to let them enter, without Mrs Andrews touching it at all. She then led the way into an underground chamber. Jenny stared about her in amazement, all the years she'd been at the orphanage, she'd never known of the secret which Mrs Andrews had under the orphanage. The room was lit by flaming torches, which stood at several intervals in brackets along the walls. On a perch not far away slept a tawny owl with its head under its wing, Jenny gazed in wonder at it. Then she turned to look around at the shelves of books to one side, there were many titles, The Dragon Dictionary, Raising and Breeding Salamanders, a Beginners Guide, and other books on cookery Magical Methods of Bakery and Cake-making, bake a cake in 30 seconds! Though in all the room, the thing that amazed Jenny the most were the pictures which hung on the walls. They were…moving. She watched in amazement as an old man in a portrait scratched his ear and a horse in another picture galloped across a field, emitting a small whiny. Fran seemed equally amazed, and the two girls caught each other's looks, Fran raised her eye-brows at Jenny. Though their attention was soon turned back to Mrs Andrews, who was rooting around in a draw for something. Pieces of parchment flew everywhere as she searched for what she was looking for. At last, she got up and drew out a small piece of parchment and a quill with what looked like it was crafted from an eagle's feather.
Jenny and Fran drew near and peered at what Mrs Andrews wrote in her old- fashioned curly handwriting,
'Dear Minerva,' she wrote, 'I hope that you are well. Jennifer Tailor received her letter from Hogwarts, though neglected to show it to me for a few days.' Jenny felt her insides do a sort of somersault, 'Probably quite understandable, due to the child's situation.' At reading this, Jenny felt suddenly better. 'I will be taking her to Diagon Alley this coming Saturday to help her buy the necessary things. We really must meet some time for lunch, I will look forward to seeing the wizarding world again, Best Wishes and my Love, Maeve Andrews.
Mrs Andrews went over to the stand and gently prodded the owl, which gave a disgruntled hoot and stared at Mrs Andrews through sleepy amber eyes.
"Come along Tarna, wake up, there's a good bird, got a job for you, I know it's been a while, feel up to it?" The owl immediately spread his impressive wing-span to its full-length and held out a leg eagerly. Mrs Andrews smiled a the owl's eagerness and tied the note securely to it. She then took Tarna to a small grate-window and watched as he soared upwards into the sky. Without a word to either of their girls, Mrs Andrews swept out of the chamber and up the stairs, with the two girls scuttling along behind her. When they were again in her kitchen, and the flag-stone had solidified back into place; Mrs Andrews returned to look at the gawping faces of Jenny and Fran.
"Well, no need to do more goldfish impressions," she said, returning to her usual, crisp manner. "You have a French lesson with Monsieur Bordeux now, both of you, hurry off; I have a maths lesson to prepare for your lesson afterward, hurry off now you two, or you'll be late. Oh, and remember what I said, speak no word of that to anyone." With that, the girls hurried off to go to their first lesson of that day, which was indeed, French, with the chubby, red French teacher, Monsieur Bordeaux.
Though Monsieur Bordeaux's prattling on about French verbs and tenses did not register at all in Jenny's mind, which was filled with thoughts chasing each other about through the corridors of her mind. Was she really a witch? Would she be going to a Magic School? Where she would be learning magic spells and using a magic wand? She day-dreamed about what the school would be like, the people she would see there. Though some things she had heard Mrs Andrews talk about, and some things she had seen her do confused her, why had she sent the note off with an owl? And one book title stuck in her mind The Dragon Dictionary. Dragons?? The lesson went passed really quickly without Jenny hearing a word, and five minutes before the end of the lesson, Jenny forced herself to snap out of her trance, in order to take up the notes which had been written down that lesson.
As she walked out of the classroom and to the next lesson, which was maths with Mrs Andrews, Jenny was confronted by Fran,
"Jenny?" she asked, "what are you going to do? Are you going to go?" Jenny looked down at her best friend and smiled.
"Yeah," she replied smiling, "I am." Fran smiled benignly at her, just imagining Orla's face when she found out that Jenny was going to be a witch!