Ch.1 Letters

The eleven-year-old Lily Evans opened her startlingly bright green eyes to a pleasantly warm August morning. She yawned slightly as she sat up and glanced out her window. It would be yet another boiling hot, dry day, turning the grass an even deader shade of yellow. She couldn't wait until September, she had been accepted to Eton Academy and Petunia was too little. She'd only have to listen to her obnoxious, rude, and self-centered little sister for two more weeks before she would be free of the unkind comments until Christmas. Ah… sweet freedom…

These soothing thoughts were interrupted as Petunia's high-pitched shriek penetrated her bedroom walls. "Probably another spider or something stupid," Lily thought to herself as she hurried downstairs. What she saw had nothing whatsoever to do with spiders.

A massive tawny owl was swooping through her kitchen, clearly waiting for something. As soon as her foot hit the bottom step, the owl flew over to Lily, dropped a piece of parchment at her feet, and flapped up to perch on the Grandfather clock in the corner.

Forgetting about the odd letter and expectant owl for a moment, Lily sat down next to her cowering sister and attempted to comfort her as their mother ran inside from her sappy romance novel in the sun on the porch to check on the commotion. Lily's father was out for his morning run.

"What on earth is going on?" Mrs. Evans shrieked as soon as she saw the mess the owl had made, having knocked just about every item in the kitchen over and now put deep scratch marks in the wood of her antique clock.

Petunia tripped on her words as her heart rate slowly returned to normal, "An owl, it-it wa-was right he-here. It flew all over! Kno-knocked everything th-th-thing over and the-then dropped that le-letter," she pointed towards the stairs with a shaky hand, " in front of Li-lily," she completed with a last shuddering sigh.

Once Mrs. Evans and Lily had Petunia settled in the sun room with a glass of lemonade and a cheap electric fan blowing on her, they returned to the kitchen and looked at the envelope; right on the floor where the owl had left it. The address side was up in emerald green ink:

Miss L. Evans

The messiest bedroom

35 Fairbrook Lane

Whitecross

Kent

"Well aren't you going to open that, dear?" Mrs. Evans asked stiffly.

"Of course," Lily responded, but she didn't move. They stood there a minute, just staring at the address, wondering… The thoughts, "How do they know my bedroom's so messy… Why an owl… Why is the owl still here… What do they want from me?" Kept running through her head until a quiet hoot from the owl disturbed her thoughts. She glanced questioningly towards it, but it just blinked unhelpfully. Lily took a steadying breath and tentatively reached down to lift the envelope. Petunia had come to the doorway to watch.

Lily's mother gasped as Lily's hand grasped the thick parchment. The seal on the back was also in green ink, a big letter H surrounded by a miniscule eagle, badger, snake and lion. "Well that rules out Eton as the mysterious sender," Lily thought to herself.

As Lily broke the seal she was filled with a surge of happiness from within, a sense of contentment as though she subconsciously knew that this letter was somehow good news for her. The grandfather clock with the owl on top struck noon, calling her back to her senses.

Lily calmly unfolded the yellowing parchment and began to read aloud, "Dear Miss Evans, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," a shocked pause, "Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment as well as instructions as to how you will access the wizarding world as you are from a purely muggle, non magical, family. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later then July 31st. If you have any questions do not hesitate to contact me. Yours Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress."

All three women stared at the letter until Petunia baldly questioned, "You were accepted to where?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…" Lily whispered, her eyes glazed over, trying to imagine magic actually existing.

"But you were already accepted to Eton. That's where you're going! Everyone knows magic doesn't exist!" Petunia's voice began to rise higher in pitch; Lily detected a hint of envy in her little sister's voice.

"I think it does," Lily shot back, still barely audible.

"No it doesn't!"

"Yeah is does!"

"No!"

"Yeah!"

"NO!"

"YE--"

"Girls! Stop it! I won't have all that shrieking in my house." Mrs. Evans daughters turned to glare at her; she'd never had a lot of control over them. "We need to figure this out logically. No more raised voices--"

"WHAT HAPPENED? WHO'S YELLING? WHAT'S GOING ON?" Mr. Evans yelled as he shot through the front door and skidded into the kitchen. It took him a split second to register the absolute mess, three furious women, and the tawny owl slowly destroying the old clock. His eyes widened, "What on earth?"

"Lily got some letter from some crazy people who think she's a witch and want her to go to their school. Now she's claiming magic exists and that she won't go to Eton." Petunia rushed through the words, hoping that her sister would get in trouble for at least something that morning.

Mr. Evans looked at Lily; then his eyes met his wife's and saw his own confusion reflected in her eyes. "Let's get some tea," the typical British response to anything, when in doubt, pull out the tea bags, "and we'll try to figure out what's going on."

Mr. Evans, Lily, and Petunia walked into the parlor, followed by the owl. After two uncomfortably silent minutes listening to the muffled sound of bird song, Mrs. Evans bustled into the room with the tea tray, she poured a cup for everyone and continued to procrastinate until Mr. Evans coughed and she finally took a seat.

Lily's mind was not in that stifling parlor the rest of the morning as her family registered the shock. She was imagining the school, tons of students like her learning magic! She'd always wished magic truly existed; now she knew it did. Lily wasn't sure how she knew, but she was positive, magic was real. Part of her had known all along, it had just been a matter of time.

"I'm so proud, Lily!" her mother chimed in! "Who would have thought, a witch! I just cannot wait to tell your grandmother; then again, I suppose I can't. We have to keep this on the down low." Mrs. Evan's gossiping mind was ready to burst.

"MOM! No one, NO ONE can know about this! Absolutely no one! They wouldn't understand!" Lily began to panic; she'd read loads about witch-hunts. Of course they wouldn't burn her on a stake or anything, but what if the government wanted to study her? She shuddered, "You promise? All of you?" Lily's eyes lingered in Petunia. She only relaxed once they all met her demanding green eyes and agreed.

"Now can I leave so I can write back to this lady," she glanced at the letter, "Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes of course, dear," Mr. Evans happily agreed, "I think I'm going to go lie down." As he stood, Lily rose with him. He gave her a hug, "I'm so proud of you!"

Lily smiled and walked out of the room. Just as she exited she heard Petunia mutter, "Freak!" but nothing would bring Lily down that day.

At dinner they made plans to go into London, following the directions in her letter to the wizarding shops. Lily fell asleep with a smile on her face, what a day.

That same morning, the eleven-year-old James Potter opened his eyes to the same pleasantly warm morning in the Potter Manor. He blinked his hazel eyes and ruffled his messy black hair, all the while thinking to himself, "Any day now, it has to come any day now…"

"James," his mother called up the stairs, "I think your letter's here!" she called, trying to hide the certainty, pride and excitement from her voice.

"Thanks, Mum. I'll be down in a sec!" He threw on a pair of shorts and his glasses. Even though his family was pureblood they liked to wear the lighter muggle clothes then wizard robes in the summer.

James flew down the stairs with a giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He downed a glass of pumpkin juice in two seconds as he tore open the thick yellowish parchment paper. His eyes hardly registered the address on the front or the seal on the back. He only cared about the contents.

"Dear Mr. Potter," he started, "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He sighed happily. He'd known all along he'd end up at Hogwarts, but it still felt good to read it off the fresh parchment paper. His home for the next seven years…

Suddenly, as the clock struck noon, a surge of supreme happiness and contentment filled him. Hogwarts was a good place for him to be.

"James!" Mr. And Mrs. Potter grabbed him in a big hug, "We're so proud of you! I knew you'd go to Hogwarts! And you'll be a perfect student, just like you father was!" Mrs. Potter gushed. Tears of happiness squeezed through her eyes. We'll go get all your books and everything first thing in the morning.

James fell to sleep excited and eager. Hogwarts, wonderful Hogwarts…