Each day, lectures became more and more subdued. It was Friday morning and the act of going through the motions was apparent in the expressions of the students and staff. The routine of it all seemed neverending and trivial. The rainy weather was persistent throughout the week and the gloominess was taking effect. Professor Lynch was the exception. He was a young handsome man who maintained perfectly gelled, jet black hair, absurdly white teeth, and a confidence that you would only expect a good looking man to have. But in fact, Lucian Lynch was unexpectedly and insufferably boring, despite the weather conditions. He rambled on about the Tribe of Fire from the beginning of the lesson until the end, but proceeded on several tangents unrelated to the History of American Magic. He remained unaware of the disengaged witches and wizards. The sound of rain was almost exciting in comparison, beating on the windows of the marble castle which seemed to pique the interest of the students more than Professor Lynch himself. Students did not so much as glance at the professor. Instead, the ones not looking out the window, gazed past him at the chalkboard, holding back their yawns, and anticipated the dismissal from their lesson. Though Professor Lynch's tone never changed, the students' instinct told them he was wrapping up. Before the professor could finish saying "Class is dismissed," students were bursting into the corridors of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Just as usual, after second period there was a queue spilling into the entrance hall, leading to the post room. The queue was moving at a fluctuating pace and students moved up one by one collecting their parcels and letters. "Well hello there! Good morning young man!" Ms. Likasil was always a charming woman and welcomed everybody with an exaggerated-yet sincere and personalized-greeting, accompanied by equally extravagant hand gestures. Her movements magnified the fact that she stood nearly wall to wall in the post room. "Hmmmm, let me see. Oh I know this, don't tell me!" she flailed her hands as if shooing flies from her face. She brought her voice to a whisper, "Luh...Lumquist...Lemonteur" wiggling her fingers toward her head. "Love...Lovely, er...Zeus!" her sweet, affectionate voice quickly grew to a grating shout. "Yes of course it is! Post for Mr. Zeus Lovely!" Ms. Likasil called out behind her into the cramped post room.

"Er- well no my -"

"One second, honey. Your post is coming, dear." she politely assured. The commotion around her made it difficult to tell what was going on, but the young man standing at the front of the desk knew his things were not yet on its way.

"My name is actually -" he was cut off again but he smiled. This kind of thing happened all the time. Ms. Likasil was very polite, however very forgetful and well, stubborn at times.

"Post for Mr. Lovely please!" She yelled once more at the post room. Ding! A small pink paper shot up and slowly rocked its way down to the surface of the counter. Ms. Likasil snathced the paper up, and brought it right up to her nose, reading intently over her glasses. "Hmmm, I see." She threw the pink slip over her shoulder, letting it fall to the ground. "I'm sorry young man, but there does not seem to be a Zeus Lovely at this school." The boy laughed.

"Lovegood." He said, still holding a smile. Ms. Likasil however appeared repentant, shaking her head dramatically slow; the post kept its pace.

"Oh, I'm sorry pumpkin." She apologized then opened her large mouth and began a deep breath.

"Xanthus Lovegood ma'am." He said clearly to avoid anymore confusion or delay.

"Oh that's right! I'm sorry, I should know that by now dear." She said, and instantly began repeating to herself, "the boy with the blue book. Lovegood. The boy with the blue book." Xanthus was muddled by her words, he didn't have a blue book, but he tried not to put much thought into it as he waited to see if he had any post. In the meantime the room behind was still full of commotion. Parcels slid in and out of post boxes, and envelopes zipped through the air in no orderly fashion, anxiously trying to find their places. Xanthus was always amused by the post room, the way post boxes were endless, gradually fading into the black ceiling. And the floating chandelier, like Ms. Likasil seemed maybe a little too much for the post room. It was far too lavish, sparkling against an abundance of tan. The open candlelight around flying paper didn't seem too safe either, but at Ilvermorny, everything worked with no explanation.

Ding! Another slip shot up from the countertop, this time green. Ms. Likasil quickly read it and hurried to the edge of the room. A box wrapped in brown paper with a blue ribbon glided down to the counter with an envelope trailing behind. Ms. Likasil sighed in relief. "Oh it's a slow one this time. You have to be careful, you never know sometimes." she was very cautious with the green slips. On a couple occasions, parcels have glided too fast or without direction and hit her right in the head.

"Take care Mr. Lovely. You have a good day now dear." she was just as delightful with her goodbyes. After receiving his parcel and envelope, he walked back toward the circular entrance hall, past the queue of young wizards and witches tapping their feet and sighing impatiently. Everyone adored Ms. Likasil but loathed waiting.

Xanthus took a seat on the marble floor just inside the main entrance. Isolt Sayre and James Steward, two founders of Ilvermorny, stood proudly in their marble form in front of the school. In addition, four wooden statues were evenly dispersed around the walls, facing the symbol of the Gordian Knot in the center of the stone floor. These represented the four houses at Ilvermorny: the Horned Serpent, the panther Wampus, the Thunderbird and the Pukwudgie. These enchanted carvings were used in the sorting process.

The cool, fresh air flowed in with the refreshing smell of the ceased morning rain. Above, the sunlight was beginning to creep through the clouds, shining on the glass cupola, dotted in shimmering rain drops. Indistinct conversation echoed in the marble halls. The only thing absorbing sound was the students themselves, draped in blue and cranberry robes, passing through on their ways to their next classes. With the parcel on his lap, Xanthus picked up the tan envelope which read:

Mr. X. Lovegood

Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Mount Greylock, Massachusetts, North America

Xanthus turned over the letter to find the Hogwarts crest in black ink, the envelope sealed in red. Quickly he flipped the envelope back over double checking who it was to. He was confused. He had always wanted to go to Hogwarts, but his father insisted on Ilvermorny. He always mumbled something about a "no good headmaster" and "wouldn't know a real wizard if it jinxed him in the -" but nonetheless, being in Hogwarts and being a Ravenclaw had been Xanthus' dream since he was nine when he received a book "Transfiguration in Troubling Times" by Albus Dumbledore.

Hogwarts had never accepted anyone living in North America before, but Xanthus was always one to dream and he believed that anything could happen. His father after all had been in Ravenclaw, before being expelled for something still unknown to Xanthus, and moved to North America years before he had been born.

Xanthus unsealed the envelope. His heart raced not knowing what to expect. He was a few months into his third year already, so surely it wasn't an acceptance letter. Maybe the letter was for his father. That made sense. He calmed down a bit, and his heart rate slowed. He pulled out a letter which read:

Dear Mr. Lovegood,

We are pleased to inform you that you have uncustomarily and remarkably been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We understand your position at Ilvermorny but hereby request your presence.

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

We await your arrival.

Yours sincerely,

Professor Dumbledore

Deputy Headmaster

P.S. Please accept this gift from Hogwarts and Ollivander's wand shop.

Xanthus sat astonished on the marble floor. He wanted to open the box, but he was unable to move, trying to comprehend what he had read. Still holding the letter near his face, with his mouth wide open, he intently read the letter over, trying to find where he misunderstood.

"Hi Xan." A young girl sat down next to him on the cold floor. His eyes were one with the letter and his mouth stayed ajar. "Hello!" She waved her hands in front of his eyes. His concentration was broken and he quickly realized that he should keep this letter a secret. He didn't want the school to find out and he definitely didn't want to hear what his father had to say about Hogwarts. He pulled the letter out of sight and placed it on the floor under his leg. "What was that?"

"Just a letter from my Mum." He lied.

"And what's in the box?" She asked. The parcel was still on his lap.

"Not sure yet." Which was true, although, he did have a pretty good idea of what was inside since the letter said it was from Ollivander's.

Xanthus didn't ever lie to Maxine. It was just an in the moment reaction to hide the letter and not let anyone see. "Come with me." He said as he stood up. Maxine followed him through the entrance hall and up a flight of stone steps. They entered a narrow door into a dark room. "Lumos" Xanthus whispered. The tip of his wand lit up, revealing the empty classroom, mostly used for practicing spells and after school clubs. "Hold this." he said, handing the wand to Maxine as he placed the box under his arm and held the letter out in front of her. She saw the Hogwarts crest and glanced at Xanthus, perplexed. She continued, reading the letter, her eyes lighting up each line until she reached the end in awe, just as he was.

"So?" she said in anticipation. "What's in the box?" Xanthus pulled it out from under his arm and Maxine watched impatiently. "Just open it!"

"Okay…" he said while his heart was beating fast once again. He slid off the blue ribbons and tore off the brown wrapping. He opened the wooden box containing his name, engraved in very fine writing. Inside lay a brand new wand with a small note tied to the end.

An Ollivander's original:

12 ¼ inch

Sycamore wood

Phoenix feather core

Brittle flexibility

Xanthus was unsure what to do. He wondered whether Mr. Ollivander and Dumbledore were aware that Phoenix feather wands were illegal in North America. They were said to be too unpredictable and dangerous, especially for practicing wizards. Xanthus hid the wand box under his robes. Maxine didn't bother to speak. She could see on his face that he needed time to think. "Meet me in Potions?" he said. Maxine nodded and Xanthus rushed off to the dormitories to find somewhere to hide the letter and his new wand until the end of his lessons.