My name is Ida MacCleary. I am a witch and a former student of the legendary school, Hogwarts. Now, for you other young half-bloods and muggle-borns reading this and waiting on baited breath for your letter, stop! I know this may sound strange, but Hogwarts isn't everything it's cracked up to be. It may have been a great school at one point, but a lot of things have changed there. Allow me some time to recollect my thoughts on the matter. I apollogize if some occurrences appear out of order because of my memory. Alright, let's start at the beginning shall we?

Eleven. That's the year every young witch and wizard with at least one magical parent looks forward to. Every day after their birthday, they wait anxiously for a letter from a big named magic school. I happened to be one of the lucky ones. My dad, a gnome exterminator, had raked up every sickle and galleon he could to get me in. Sure enough he did, and he saved my letter as a surprise for me. My acceptance letter from Hogwarts was the best birthday present I could ask for, or so I thought.

The very next day, we all took a trip to diagon ally. Needless to say, that was the most excited I've ever been for school shopping. Instead of getting pencils and folders this year, I was getting a wand, magic books, and my Hogwarts robes. My mom even let me get an owl. It wasn't so much for me to have a pet or anything; she wanted some means of hearing from me since she knew that muggle devices, like cellphones, wouldn't work in Hogwarts. By the time we got to owls, the budget was nearly squeezed out so I couldn't get a big owl. Instead, I got this little, gray puffball of a bird that I called Pipsqueak.

Everyday after my shopping trip I grew all the more excited. I selected all of the casual clothes I needed for the weekends and holidays, I started reading through my magic books, and I would even wear my school robes on occasion. I could tell that my five year old sister, Maddie, was also picking up on the excitment because she started jumping up and down on the couches and armchairs in the living room.

"Stop bouncing around like that Maddie," my mother scolded the hyperactive child, "You're going to fall and hurt yourself."

"Ida's a witch mommy!" Maddie exclaimed, "Ida's going to magic school, isn't she?"

"That's right, dear. I hope the first thing she learns is to bottle her excitement. Honestly, the two of you have been acting like march hares the past few days," mom replied as she continued working on her laptop.

"I can't help it mom! I'm finally going to learn magic and not boring old math!" I squealed, "And I can't believe that I'm going tomorrow!"

"Magic school! Magic school!" Maddie continued jumping on the couch.

Mom was getting visibly irritated, "That's quite enough you two! Unlike your father, I have to make a normal muggle living to pay the bills! If you're both going to run around all willy-nilly, please take it outside!"

There was a loud crack and Dad apparated into the kitchen. Mom let out a yelp and fell out of her chair in surprise.

"I'm home!" he announced. He looked down at my mother on the floor and chuckled, "Sorry Marion. Did I give you a start?"

"I thought I told you not to do that in the kitchen!" Mom responded indignantly.

Dad responded with a throaty laugh, "I thought after fourteen years, you'd be used to it!"

"Daddy! Daddy!" Maddie pranced over to Dad, "Ida's going to magic school tomorrow, isn't she?"

"Right you are, you little beastie," my dad gave Maddie an affectionate poke on the tummy. She gave a snorty giggle in response.

"Dad, are there any spells you know that would make time go faster?" I asked him anxiously, "I don't know how much more I can wait!"

"I'm afraid there isn't any sort of magic like that, Ida," he put a gentle hand on my shoulder, "You're just going to have to be patient."

"I know," I replied in a huffy way, "It's just so hard."

"I know exactly how you feel," he said, "I remember when I turned eleven and got my letter. I would have bounced off the walls if I had stopped floating to the ceiling. I couldn't come down that night, so my dad had to tie me down to the furniture at dinner time!" I couldn't help but giggle at my dad's silly story. Maddie, of course, was laughing hysterically.

"Done!" Mom closed her laptop, "I'm going out to get these printed. Could you get dinner started Charles?"

"Not to worry, milady," Dad tapped his nose in a mischievious way, "chef Charles is in charge!" Mom gave a curt giggle at my dad's silliness before she left.

"Daddy, can I help cook?" Maddie pleaded.

"Sure you can," Dad replied, "Go get the biggest pot you can find. We're making chicken soup tonight."

"Are you going to use magic to cook again?" I questioned, "You know you made the chicken explode the last time."

My dad gave me his usual, reassuring smile, "Don't worry so much Ida. I wouldn't dare botch your last meal before going to Hogwarts," we began to hear various hoots and twitters coming from my room upstairs, "In the mean time, why don't you let that bird of yours out of its cage? Owls get restless if they don't get any exercise."

I ran upstairs to my room. Normally my floor would be covered with dirty clothes, but my excitement motivated me to clean up for once. I kept my owl in a little cage on my desk. Sure enough, he was fluttering against the bars and biting at the door. I opened the cage and Pipsqueak came hopping out onto some old Daily Prophet newspapers. He cocked his head curiously at the moving pictures and started pecking at them. I stroked his fluffy, gray head and he began to nibble at my fingers affectionately. He suddenly stopped and let out a long screech. I looked over at my window and saw my dad's horned owl, Thomas, perched at my window sill with some letters in his beak.

Against Pipsqueak's will, I let Thomas inside. Thomas is kind of an old owl, but is as sharp as any youngster. If owls have personalities, which I believe they do, Thomas would be the polar opposite of my dad. Instead of being goofy and silly, Thomas is a serious and dignified bird. Pipsqueak, being a smaller owl, was intimidated by Thomas and showed it by poofing out his feathers and screeching.

"Now you stop that, Pipsqueak! Thomas is a friend!" I scolded my little bird, "He wouldn't lay a talon on you, right Thomas?" Thomas looked down at my screeching owl and promptly looked away. If an owl could roll its eyes, Thomas would have done that. He dropped the letters in my lap and fluttered away downstairs.

Although Thomas is a very sharp bird, he has grown a touch lazy in his old age. Rather than give the letters to their proper recipiant, he opted to give them to the first person he saw once he reached his destination. This was the habit that convinced Mom that I needed my own owl.

I stroked Pipsqueak's gray head to calm him down, "You're going to have to get used to larger birds, I'm afraid. We're going to Hogwarts together, you know. I'm sure once you get over this fear, you'll have great fun. Hogwarts is going to be fantastic!"

That last statement, of course, would be dead wrong.