Mr. Potter and his wife were sitting at the kitchen table waiting patiently for the inevitable letter from Hogwarts. They had decided that they would both take off work to take their son to Diagon Alley to by his school things.
James Potter came barreling down the stairs with one shoe on his foot and the other in his hand. He had neglected to brush his hair and to his fathers amusement was wearing to different colored socks.
Mrs. Potter got up immediately to get her son a plate of his favorite breakfast. James' eyes lit up at the feast before him. The site of eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast only added to the excitement of the day. James' mother smiled happily, watching her son eat in haste. She had always found it quite funny that when he was excited about something he did everything he could not to show it. He always had to come across as though anything good was just expected to happen to him. She quietly hoped he would grow out of it, but seeing as his father had only grown out of it when James had been born, finally realizing that some things in life were more important than his appearance, his son, she doubted he would. Never the less, he had grown to be a handsome boy with a good heart. He had always been a very loyal and protective son, something she was glad he had inherited from his father.
He was as brave as he was handsome. He had given his mother many a frights when he was a boy. He had once jumped off the roof, to his mother's dismay, determined to fly. He had remained stationary in the air for a good three seconds before falling into his crying mother's arms, his hovering having given her enough time to reach him before he fell. His father had come home to find James locked in the down stairs closet and his wife crying and demanding he buy him a broom to keep him from trying to fly on his own. This is how they had found James' love and talent for flying. Mrs. Potter blinked the tears from her eyes, knowing that she was going to miss her son.
Her thoughts were broken by the sound of a brown barn owl screeching from outside the window. The family stared at each other for a second before James bolted to open the window with a wild smile on his face, momentarily forgetting his cool facade. The owl dropped the letter in James' hands and flew to the table where Mrs. Potter had made an extra piece of toast for the expected bird.
James held the letter out in front of him so as to get a better look. The excitment grew steadily inside of him as he read the envelope.
James Potter
The kitchen
Godric's Hollow
He turned the letter around glancing at the Hogwarts crest on the back before tearing open the letter. He pulled out two peaces of paper. He glancing at his list of things he would need for school and then read the other, "Dear Mr. Potter…"
He had no intension of getting up until he had to. He would have plenty of time before his letter arrived. As he lay there in his bed, he smelled the sweet aroma of pan cakes floating down the hall from the kitchen. Now, having a reason to get up, he did, walking over to his clothes on his desk and beginning to change.
"Mum!" Peter hollered from down the hall, "Mum, where is my other shoe?"
Mrs. Pettigrew walked hastily down the hall to aid her son in his search for his shoes. It was the morning he was to get his Hogwarts letter and his mother seemed to be getting rather clingy. Everywhere he had gone for the past few days his mother had followed him, doing everything she could for him. She had even offered to cut his sandwich into smaller pieces. Peter had every intension of letting her pamper him all she wanted to. Why not? She enjoyed, and, needless to say, he did as well.
Mrs. Pettigrew peered under the bed in spotted a shoe lace peeking out at her. She grabbed it and pulled it out. Handing it to her son, who took it and set it next to his clothes on the desk. Mrs. Pettigrew had insisted that they go to Diagon Alley that morning immediately after he got his letter in spite of the fact that she was still having some trouble forcing herself to shop for his school things and realizing that he was leaving her. She wandered if he would miss her as much as she would miss him. He had always been such a sweet boy. He was a polite boy though he had never quite grasped his father's charm. His father had died when Peter was young, and Peter had never met his charming and kind father. Mrs. Pettigrew had always hoped he would pick up some of his fathers traits. She had loved the man and wished he would have been around to teach her son how to be. She had tried to provide him with a father figure but he had scorned them all. Even his own Grandfather wasn't good enough for him. He seemed to feel as though he had been slighted in the worst way and never seemed to get over it. His mother had hoped that maybe he would grow out of it and did what she could to help him, but her attempts went unnoticed. Instead they had eventually been expected. She had put a stop to her efforts of spoiling him after seeing his selfish tendency.
She turned to look at him, running her fingers through his hair. He was a small and slightly plump boy who didn't have quite the sharpness his father had, and she hoped that he would not get picked on at his new school like he had been in his old school. Peter stared back at her, wondering what his mother was thinking. She had been doing that a lot lately. He attributed it to missing him and slipped on his shoes, heading hungrily to the kitchen.
He sat anxiously eating his pancakes and waiting for his letter. He read the trivia questions on the back of his cereal box with a curious eye.
"Alohamora!" He yelled.
His mother came in from the kitchen, drying a plate and looking confused. "I'm sorry dear, what did you say?"
"Alohamora is the answer to the question on my box." He said proudly, taking a big bite of his pancakes.
Mrs. Pettigrew blinked in disbelief and then forced a strained smile and walked back into the kitchen with her dish, shaking her head. She had told him the answer to that question only the day before. She decided against reminding him and let him keep his encouragement.
"Mom, it's here!" She heard Peter call a few minutes later.
She walked quickly into the living room where her son had opened the window and was about to open the letter.
"Help yourself she said to the owl, motioning to the left over pancakes sitting on a plate in the middle of the table. The owl hooted its thanks and flew to the plate.
Mrs. Pettigrew put on her best excited face in spite of her dread. She watched her son as he opened his letter.
Peter's hands shook with excitement as he fumbled to open his letter, which read:
Peter Pettigrew
Living room couch
Number Eleven Mandor Dr.
Peter opened his letter and read out loud in a shaky voice, "Dear Mr. Pettigrew…"
Lily awoke early one morning, thinking that that day was going to a normal day with nothing out of the ordinary and absolutely no excitement. They never was anything special on her street, except for one very important thing…her.
She rolled herself out bed and swayed slowly down the hallway to the kitchen. As she passed her sister's room, she hit the door with her open palm, saying, "Get up, rabbit pellet!"
She heard Petunia whining groggily as she continued on her path to the kitchen. Entering the kitchen,
Lily began to rummage in the pantry for some bread. It was her custom to get up earlier than the rest of her family and make them all breakfast. She had always been the early riser and that hadn't changed in the summer. She had begun making them all breakfast when her mother was sick one week and the tradition had just stuck. Lily found that the house ran much smoother in morning when she made breakfast than when everyone had to wait for her mother to get ready before she could do it.
Lily popped a few pieces of toast into the toast and began putting on a fresh pot of coffee for her mother and father. Petunia came down the stairs, rubbing her eyes sleepily, just as the toast popped back up. Lily set the toast on a plate and placed it in the middle of the table while petunia retrieved the butter and jam from the refrigerator with a mumble of thanks. Nodding, Lily pulled out a few pieces of fruit and set them in bowl, putting it on the table. Then she poured two glasses of orange juice and two cups of coffee placing those on the table as well.
Then Lily sat down to eat next to her sister and when her parents arrived, they sat on either side of the girls.
"Lily, you are amazing." Mrs. Evans said thankfully, kissing her daughter on the forehead. She then proceeded to kiss Petunia, "good morning, dear."
Mr. Evans examined the toast on the table, obviously deciding which one was the bigger piece, then took a huge bite out of the chosen piece. Lily watched her mother roll her eyes and laughed. Her parents were always doing this. Her father was silly and while her mother was sophisticated to a fault. She knew she could never be that sophisticated, but she still had a good sense of manors and knew when it was okay to be silly. Her father had made it impossible to grow up like her mother with his silly ways and sarcastic comments. He was always trying to annoy her mother but her mother's patience was too much for him. She would always just smile in her light serine way that Lily so envied.
Lily had not inherited this particular trait. Part of the reason she could never be as perfect as her mother was her temper. She seemed to have taken the fiery redhead idea literally. Petunia learned at an early age not to pick on her sister when Lilly backfired her insults by chunking several pillows at her all at once. How it had happened neither knew. They had just kind of soared from the bed to Petunia's face, shocking both sisters. They never mentioned it again after that day. It wasn't until later Lilly had discovered the cause of the event.
She had been scared but excited all the same when a young boy named Severus had told her that she was a witch. Since they had met that day in the park, Severus had been her best friend. He had told her as much about the wizarding world as he could. However, some of the things he'd told her about the wizarding world made her nervous. He had told her all about the prejudices between purebloods and muggleborns. Lilly was worried that she may not be accepted into the new world but hoped that she would at least have Severus.
Lily ate her toast and her pear in silence, thinking about what she was going to do that day. She never seemed to have anything to do with her boring life. The most exciting thing in it was her father, and he was headed to work soon. She could read that book she'd been wanting to read, or review some of her lessons from the last school year, or play ball out in the yard, or go for a walk, or let that owl in the window, or…wait let the owl in the window? Lily gaped at the window. Why was there an owl trying to peck its way into the house? Her parents and sister were soon staring at the window as well. Lily got up with a questioning look, somehow feeling that she should let the bird in. somehow she knew that the bird's presence was a good thing. She slid the window open to her parent's dismay. The bird flew onto the counter next to Lily and stuck out its leg. Lily leaned forward to see what was on its leg, feeling rather than seeing her family doing the same. Her eyebrows rose as she noticed that it was a letter and she gave a small gasp when she noticed that it was addressed to her.
"What is it, dear?" Her mother asked.
"It's a letter for me." She looked up at her parents in confusion. Sure enough the words were written on the front of the envelope:
Lilly Evans
The Kitchen
Number Six Strilton Rd.
Her father got up and walked over to the bird. He stared down at the envelope before reaching out for it. The owl screeched and pulled its leg away then stuck it back toward Lily. Lily and her dad exchanged curious glance. Then Lily shrugged and took the letter from the owl's leg, handing it the remains of her toast.
She opened the letter and began reading it out to her parents with a shocked tone only grew more shocked as she went. "Dear Ms. Evans…"
Remus Lupin searched through the books in his mother's library slightly sulkily. He was looking for one book in particular, Hogwarts: A History. He had been reading it all week vainly longing to be allowed into the school. He knew, however, that there was no possible way he would be allowed to attend.
Remus quickly located the book, sank down into his mother's favorite reading chair and began to read it. If he had hoped to keep his mind off of the significance of the day, he was sadly disappointed. Reading about Hogwarts only reminded him that today was the day that children all over the country would receive their Hogwarts letters. For any normal eleven year old wizard it would be one of the happiest days of his life. Not so for Remus. He wasn't to be included in the letters even though he was of age and brilliant. There was one very significant thing about Remus that set him apart from all other children. Remus was a Werewolf. A silver intolerant, flesh hungry, dangerous beast. What hurt Remus the most was that the majority of the time Remus was a perfectly normal boy with the exception of unusual strength for his size, a longer life span, heightened senses, and weakness around silver. It just felt so unfair. He had never asked for the burden of Lycanthropy. It had been given to him for reasons Remus neither cared for nor dwelled on. He knew there was nothing he could do about his condition and, though it saddened him, his rejection by Hogwarts. He was determined not to let it bother him, but try as he might, he could not stop feeling awful. He so wanted to go to Hogwarts if only…yes, if only…..
tap, tap!
Remus sat down his book and buried his face in his hands, wishing with all he had that he could go to Hogwarts.
Tap, Tap!
Remus looked up, feeling hopeless. He knew there would never be a possibility that the Headmaster would let a werewolf into his school.
There was a brown barn owl sitting on the window seal and tapping its beak against the glass. Remus rolled his eyes thinking, assuming that the bird had gotten him confused with his father, who was always getting letters from the office, seeing as he worked out of the home. Remus walked over to let the bird in and paused when he saw the name on the envelope:
Remus Lupin
The Library
Number Three Clayborn Dr.
He slowly took the letter from the bird's leg, turning it around to see the Hogwarts crest. He stared at it wondering whether or not he dared to believe.
Just then his parents walked in talking softly, but paused when they saw their son holding a letter.
"Who is it from, dear?" Mrs. Lupin asked stepping over to the book Remus had left sitting on the table, looking at it sadly then placing it in its rightful spot on the shelf.
When Remus didn't answer, Mr. Lupin, being a rather overprotective father due to Remus' werewolf status, walked to his son and took the letter. Remus knew that his dad was wondering the same thing as he was. Was someone playing a trick on him? But, no one else could brand it with the Hogwarts crest.
"What is it?" his mother asked, arms crossed with a curious face.
"It's from Hogwarts." Remus dared to whisper, watching his father for any sign that he was wrong.
His mother's face fell slack, and she looked to Mr. Lupin in concern. He shrugged as if to say "what else".
Remus willed himself not to hope, trying to convince himself that it was a rejection letter or maybe a mistake, as his father opened the letter and began reading. Does Hogwarts send out rejection letters? Does it make mistakes? Maybe it was an apology. Yeah it must be. They are apologizing for not being able to allow him to come to school and explaining why.
Remus looked up to see Mr. Lupin holding out the letter to him. He had stopped watching his dad and missed his face. Now that he looked at it he saw that there was a huge grin spreading from ear to ear. That was the thing that caused Remus to let himself hope. Remus anxiously took the letter barely believing it was possible, and began to read it out loud to both of his parents, who stood in disbelief, his mother in tears and his dad ready to explode with pride. "Dear Mr. Lupin…"
Sirius Black sat to the right of his father at the dining room table with his family. Mr. Black sat at the head of the table with Sirius at his right, Sirius's younger brother Regulus at his left and Mrs. Black across from him, barking orders at their houself, Kreacher, which was hurriedly fixing their breakfasts.
Sirius watched his dad eat next to him, wondering how long his dad would still be proud of him. The sorting marked the day. Kreacher came into the dining area, carrying a large tray with everything you could possibly think of. Sirius moaned inwardly at the sight; his parents were celebrating. Sirius decided he should enjoy his parents while they still liked him and tried to smile, but he was held back by the fact that he knew the angst he was about to cause them. Ever since he could remember, his parents had been expecting, encouraging, and even anticipating him being made a Slytherine. The problem? Sirius was not sure he was going to be sorted into Slytherine. He did not think the same as his parents. Ever since he was a child they had been teaching him and his younger brother Regulus all of what they believed. Sirius now couldn't care less if someone was muggleborn or pureblood or a half-bread. He had no desire for power and cunning had lost its appeal long ago. Sirius jumped at his father's voice.
"Well son, do you know what today is?" Mr. Black asked Sirius, taking a few pieces of bacon and placing them on his plate.
Sirius nodded but said nothing. He didn't want to show his worry, and he knew his parents could pick that kind of thing up like a sneakscope. The only reason his parents had never found out that Sirius had doubts about whether he believed his parents was that they were completely oblivious to the fact they were completely oblivious to anything Sirius did wrong.
"Why aren't you excited?" Mr. Black asked, taking his eyes off the Daily Prophet he was holding in front of him to look at Sirius.
"I am, sir" Sirius said truthfully, hiding his apprehension professionally from his father and feeling guilty for it yet again. "I'm just tired."
Sirius rubbed his eyes groggily for effect before he took a bit of scrambled eggs and a stack of pancakes from the tray in the middle of the table.
With a smile in his father's direction he began to force feed himself, knowing he would probably throw his food up later.
He hated lying to his parents more than he hated anything else…well…other than what they believed. He hated their beliefs more. They were just wrong.
How they could believe that muggleborn wizards were so incredibly inferior that they should be murdered without thought was beyond Sirius. However, it was not totally beyond him. Sirius had agreed wholly and completely with his parents…until his cousin decided to marry a muggle. Sirius had thought she, Andromeda, was crazy. His parents had been showing him, or rather his oblivious obedience, to all of their friends at a party at Grimmauld Place one night when his cousin had pulled him aside just after angrily listening to him answering his parents, obviously planned, questions about muggles, half breads, purebloods, power and such. She had furiously yelled at him in the Sirius's bedroom. Sirius had yelled back that she was an idiot for buying into what that crackpot, Dumbledore, had said. She had looked at Sirius with a pained expression as tears formed in her eyes. It was then that she told Sirius she was in love with a muggle and that seeing her favorite cousin hating him was torture. This event had shaken Sirius.
Try as he might, he could not keep his mind from wondering if his parents had been wrong all of this time about the muggles and muggleborns. After all, if Andromeda could love something so "Fowl" there had to be a missing piece to his puzzle. These thoughts haunted Sirius so much that he had slipped away from his mother in diagon alley when they were on their shopping trip. He had gone into flourish and blots with a purpose, to find a muggleborn. His efforts had paid off when he found a little girl shopping with her mother and obviously muggle father. The girl had not wondered around the corner for very long when she was confronted by a boy twice her size, who began to through insults at her. Sirius just watched as the snotty boy made a little girl cry by calling her a mudblood. This had caused Sirius to wonder how "right" it was to make a little girl cry. When he went home and told his parents about it, they acted as though it was a good thing. "put her in her place…" his father had mumbled nodding his head approvingly. Sirius had stared blankly at them and wondered what else they had told him that he and his younger brother, Regulus, had blindly believed.
This one revolution had triggered a chain of rebellious ideas in Sirius's mind to the point where he no longer believed the majority of his parent ideas. He had never been able to tell them for fear of their reaction. He had been paraded in front of his parent's friends and family for years. He had been seen as the perfect example of how a child should be brought up. People would ask him questions to try and find something, anything wrong with him, and he would spit back a witty and confident sounding answer that had long been imprinted in his mind. He just had no idea how his parents were going to take it when he ended up in a house other than Slytherine. They would be humiliated and furious. They would hate him.
Everyone was anxiously waiting for Sirius to receive his Hogwarts letter, everyone except for the most important person, Sirius. Sirius had been dreading his acceptance to Hogwarts ever since he could remember. It marked the beginning of the end of his relationship with his parents.
A brown barn owl swooped into the kitchen from the window that had been purposefully left open for this reason. As Sirius stared at the Envelope in the bird's beak, thoughts of Hogwarts filled his head, pushing all of his worried thoughts out of his mind as he slowly walked over to take the letter from the owl. His mother shooed the owl away forcefully, closing the window, before walking over to stand next to her husband.
Sirius stared excitedly at his name on the letter,
Sirius Black
Dining room
Number Twelve Grimmauld Place
and smile as he began to read aloud, "Dear Mr. Black…"
"…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 o September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Miverva Mcgonagall"
