"Dammit," muttered Claire Gardner. It was only the second day of her new job and she was running very late. Her roommate's yorkie puppy, Maleficent, had refused to cooperate this morning. Too small to wear a collar, Millie, as she was referred to in public, had to be carried around in the backyard and put down in promising grassy spots in the hopes that she might feel like going to the bathroom. It had taken a good ten minutes, but canine urination was finally achieved. Claire hated waiting for her, but she hated coming home to a spotty carpet even more. Her roommate, Lauren, was completely worthless when it came to all things dog or carpet related… among other things.

As Claire ran around her bedroom grabbing clothing and her second classiest high-heeled shoes from the backs of chairs and corners of closets her cell phone made a short binging noise. A text message had just come in. It was from Lauren.

For the love of god, keep it down in there. I'm trying to fucking sleep.

"Ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous." As much as Claire hated living with Lauren, it had become incredibly difficult to cut her loose as a roommate. They had lived together since freshman year of college, but since both had graduated, only Claire had managed to get a job while Lauren stayed home all day and perused bars all night.

Claire yanked on her favorite purple blouse and accompanying pencil skirt, then dashed to the bathroom. After quickly brushing out her straight auburn hair, she grabbed her makeup bag and prepared to run out the door. She could wait to apply a couple swipes of mascara and blush until she hit one of the numerous red lights that cropped up on the way to work.

It looked like everything was going to be ok. If she left now, Claire could probably make it to work with a few minutes to spare. Her slender build looked attractive and professional in the outfit she had chosen for the day, and she was having a good hair day.

It wasn't until she walked past the kitchen that Claire realized something was wrong.

The sink.

The sink was full to the brim with dirty dishes. This seemed impossible, since Claire had washed about twenty meals worth of dishes just the night before. There was only one person who could have caused this kind of devastation within six hours time.

Claire knew it was silly to get so worked up over a messy sink, but the morning had been so hectic that she couldn't help the flood of emotions that overcame her. She felt her face turn bright red as rage bubbled up inside her. "I'm going to kill her!!! Even better, I'M GOING TO SCRATCH ALL OF HER DVD'S!!!!"

Before she could even walk the few steps toward Lauren's prized DVD collection, Claire felt something she had never experienced before. A spot in the center of her chest seemed to grow warm and begin to spread.

"Ohhhhh man, something is definitely wrong…" The sensation continued to move until it covered her entire body. Then, all at once, it seemed to burst forth from her abdomen. Before Claire even knew what was happening, the dishes in the sink had moved, on their own, and shot straight at Lauren's door! The glasses shattered on impact, but the dishes themselves were made of sturdier stuff. Two of them crashed through the door, leaving saucer shaped holes in their wake. Claire heard the plates make contact with Lauren's window, followed by a blood curdling scream.

"REAL MATURE CLAIRE! MAYBE NEXT TIME JUST TELL ME YOU'RE PISSED! I'M NOT CLEANING THIS SHIT UP!"

Claire couldn't respond. I must be dreaming. Maybe this is a nightmare, and that's why this morning has sucked so much. On the other hand, if this isn't a dream and I'm late for work, I might as well submit my application to McDonald's or call Mom and tell her I'm moving home.

With that thought, she grabbed her purse and makeup bag and left the apartment without saying a word.

In the car, Claire let herself think about what had just happened. If it wasn't a dream, I'm hallucinating for sure. It's probably the stress about the new desk job. Maybe I should go see a shrink… Nahhhh that's a stupid idea. I'll just call Katie later.

Katie had been Claire's best friend since high school. They had been on the same volleyball team and bonded over their mutual hatred for their coach, a hard-ass who thought a good practice meant working in a two mile run. Talking to Katie about a problem would probably be just as therapeutic as talking to a psychologist, but it would be a whole lot cheaper. Katie would surely be able to tell Claire why she had thrown a sink full of dishes at Lauren's door and then imagined that they had done it on their own volition. Katie might even have an explanation for the added strength Claire would have needed to create those holes. Even though Claire had always been the more rational of the two, Katie would still be able to talk her down.

Claire had been driving with the windows down since the air conditioning in her Mazda 6 was currently unresponsive. The hot Florida air whipped her hair around her face and neck as she got closer and closer to the offices of Morrison & Coffman where she worked as a secretary for the law firm. As she turned left to pull into the parking lot, an owl swooped through the passenger window and out the driver's side window, nearly clipping Claire's face with its wing. After a very colorful exclamation of surprise, which she hoped none of her coworkers had overheard, she noticed that there was an envelope on the front passenger's seat that she didn't recognize.

I swear this wasn't here a second ago…

She grabbed the envelope and her purse and rushed to the building's entrance. She got to her desk with only one minute to spare.

"Good morning, Claire! Ready for your second day of the most exciting job in the state?"

Jeff Kraul had approached Claire the second she set her purse down. At six feet, he towered over Claire's petite 5'5" frame. He had good looks and charm working in his favor, but Claire had a strict "no assholes" policy when it came to dating which had prevented him from procuring her number the day before. Jeff worked as a clerk in the building, and tasks often brought him by her desk.

"Yeah, just as soon as I get some exciting coffee to start it out."

"Oh sorry, we're all out. I can offer you its droll or lackluster counterpart. And if you ask really nicely, I'll throw in a humdrum donut."

Claire couldn't help but smile at his mode of attack. That crooked smile and strong jaw made most girls swoon. Which is why Claire knew better than to fall for his tricks. No matter how smooth he may be. She wouldn't be surprised if she found out that he had met Lauren on some night out and used all his usual lines on her, too.

"I think I'll pass on the coffee if it's really that bad. I'd take a donut, though. Pretty please?" This exchange worked like a charm, and Jeff went off to find his coworker breakfast.

With the desk to herself, Claire picked up the mysterious envelope that had appeared in her car. It appeared to be a letter. The address read:

Claire Gardner

2004 Mazda 6

D73FG1

Driver's Seat

Either this is an elaborate prank, or I am definitely hallucinating, Claire thought to herself. She opened the envelope and started reading.

Dear Miss Gardner,

It has come to the attention of the Congress of Magic that you performed unintentional magic at 7:25 this morning in your current residence. An official will be at your apartment at 8:00pm to discuss your options with you. We will ensure that your roommate is otherwise occupied.

Helen Von Matterhorn

Secretary of Squib Relations

Yeah, ok. Claire stuffed the letter into her purse just as Jeff returned holding a glazed Krispy Kreme and a styrofoam cup of steaming liquid. She didn't want Jeff to become aware that she was becoming more and more convinced of her own insanity. The best thing to do is go about my day as if nothing has changed. Then hopefully this will all sort itself out.

Claire arrived back at her apartment at 6:00. The traffic had been awful and she was starving. Just as she expected, the dirty dishes still lay scattered in the hallway at the foot of Lauren's door. The only thing that had changed since the morning was what appeared to be a large piece of cardboard duct taped to her door to cover the holes.

Claire got out the broom and dust bin and cleaned up the mess, knowing full well that her worthless roommate would never get to it.

After a long bubble bath and a delicious meal of salmon, green beans and mashed potatoes, Claire settled in to watch the third season of CSI: Las Vegas at 7:45 just as Lauren walked past her and out the door without saying a word. Claire thought she had a rather glazed look in her eyes, but if she was already drunk at least she wouldn't be driving. Lauren never drove downtown. She always found some poor fool to let her stay over or bring her home after a long night of binge drinking. Just as Gil Grisham made a witty comment over a fresh corpse, there was a knock at the door.

Claire muted the television and looked through the peephole. Standing on her doorstep was a middle-aged woman in a long robe.

"May I help you?" Claire called through the door. She had watched too much Lifetime channel as a child, and consequently knew better than to open the door to a stranger when you were home alone.

"Hello, Claire. My name is Renada McCarty. I am here regarding the letter you received this morning."

Claire was dumbfounded. Which one of my friends would go through all this trouble for a practical joke? I'd better just let her do her thing so I can move on with my life. She opened the door and Renada moved in from the night.

"Thank you, Claire. Do you mind if we sit down? This might be a rather long conversation, since to my knowledge it is the first of its kind."

The two women sat down on the couch. As Claire reached for the remote to turn the TV off, the screen went blank. She hoped it wasn't broken.

"As you are by now aware, you managed to perform unintentional magic this morning for the first time. It wasn't a small blip on our radar either. You made quite a splash with your flying saucers! It provided a lot of jokes in the office today."

Claire looked at Renada blankly. She had no idea what this woman was going on about, or how she knew about the incident with the dishes, but she didn't want to ruin the joke so she let her continue. Renada, seeming a little taken aback by the lack of response from her host, continued.

"As far back as our records go, a person has never been able to perform magic if their powers hadn't manifested before the age of ten. As you are twenty-two years old and a first timer, you are quite the anomaly."

Renada paused, as if waiting for Claire to comment. Claire remained silent and waited for her to continue.

"Well… the President was notified of your accomplishment and she and a planning committee have come up with a few options for you to consider. Of course you could continue to live in the muggle world if that is your wish. We have on our records that you attended the University of Central Florida and have just begun work. If, however, you would like to try your hand at wizardry, we would be glad to assist you. There are several schools you could attend in the United States, but the best in the world is widely believed to be Hogwarts in England. If you would like to travel to England and attend school for the entire seven years, you could. Another option would be to go through a crash course of magic for a few months and then go to school for your sixth and seventh year. Since it is April right now, we could give you some training until we feel that you are ready to enter school at the appropriate level. Judging by the size of your magical outburst this morning, we feel that you will be able to pick up magic quite quickly. Would you be interested in any of these opportunities?"

Claire finally broke her silence. "Are you done? I've already missed fifteen minutes of my show. Just tell whoever put you up to this that I totally bought it and I've signed up for Hogwash, or whatever. Tell them I packed my broomstick and crafted a wand out of the orange tree out back."

"I don't understand," said Renada.

"That makes two of us," Claire replied.

"You are aware that your father was a wizard, correct?"

"That would be difficult to verify, since I never knew my father. I'm pretty sure my mom would have mentioned if my father made a habit of grinding bones to make his bread, though."

"I think you are referring to giants, but that is a common misconception. Giants can't make bread. But back on track… your father was a wizard, and a very powerful one at that. He was killed shortly before your birth. We were not surprised to learn that you had shown no magical potential. Occasionally children who grow up in unconventional environments experience a bit of underdevelopment, although it normally rights itself before they are of school age."

"Alright, you can go now. At this point I'm just hoping my TV still works. I would like to attempt to salvage my night." Claire was sure the cool science portion of the show was on, and she was missing it.

"Your television isn't broken. It, like most electronics, do not work in the presence of magic. When I leave it will turn back on. Before I go, would you like me to fix the holes in that door?" Without waiting for an answer, Renada extracted a long, wooden stick from a voluminous pocket, waved it once, and wood that had come loose from the door flew out of the trashcan and fixed itself in the place it used to occupy. Claire went over to inspect it. She looked for flaws, felt for cracks, pinched herself a few times, and turned back to her visitor.

"So… you're saying I'm half-witch?"

"No, no… you're a whole witch. Your power just never manifested until this morning."

"Sooooo… if I wanted to quit my desk job and learn to do what you just did… I could do that?"

"Most definitely."

"In that case, send me to England. Get me out of this godforsaken apartment and away from my roommate. Hook me up with one of those magic stick things. The whole thing sounds like a plan." Claire's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"We will set up transportation for you and get in touch with the U.K.'s Minister of Magic to let him know that you were receptive to the plan. We will send you a portkey when they are ready for you on their side of the pond."

"Cool. Bye."

Renada gave Claire one last look and exited the apartment. As soon as she was out the door, the television switched back on. Man, this is the most well thought out prank I've ever come across. She settled back down on the couch just in time to see Grisham find a flake of skin that would surely be the murderer's downfall.

Claire was relieved when the weekend finally came around and she was able to spend time with Katie. The two women spent a relaxed Saturday catching up and riding their bicycles around Lake Morton.

When Claire was nearly ready to go home for the day, she mentioned the events of the beginning of the week. She had been dancing around the story all day, and had finally decided it wasn't too crazy to relate to such a close friend.

"Yeah I bet it was Kyle. Or Greg." Katie announced when the tale was over. "They're probably just mad at us for covering their cars in post-it notes."

"They shouldn't be mad about that! We gave them flames! It was a vast improvement."

"Agreed. And this sounds way too elaborate for them, but I can't think of anyone else who would go through that kind of trouble just to prank you." Katie opened the driver's door to her Honda Element and got in. "I'll call you about Tuesday. We are long overdue for a night of movie hopping."

When Claire arrived back at her house, she headed straight to the bathroom to clean up. The bike ride had been strenuous and she was feeling grimy. Once in the privacy of her room, Claire peeled off her sweat covered T-shirt and her sneakers and socks, leaving her standing in only a sports bra and shorts. It was only then that she noticed the package sitting on her bed. When she approached it for a closer look, she saw that it was addressed to her in the same way as the letter from the car.

Claire Gardner

1616 Hollingsworth Dr.

Apt 131, Room B

Winter Haven, FL

CAUTION: Package contains portkey!

Claire scoffed at this latest attempt at pulling her leg. She ripped open the box, expecting to see something elaborate to add on to the list of crazy things that had been happening to her this week. She was very surprised to see a dilapidated stuffed rabbit with a missing eye staring back up at her.

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny."

Claire reached down to pick up the rabbit, but as soon as she touched the fabric she felt an indescribably hooking sensation originating from the small of her back. Her feet left the floor, and it felt like she was flying through space. Before Claire could even let out a scream, she had landed. She was now in a small office occupied by five men in long robes. The one closest to Claire took one look at her state of undress and said, in a thick Scottish brogue, "I guess that's how they dress in America."

Everything went back as Claire passed out cold.