'Come on, get up it's my BIRTHDAY!' I screamed as I jumped up and down on my parents' bed.

'Alright, love, give us a few minutes, then we'll go downstairs and have some breakfast.'

'OK, five minutes, then can I have pancakes, please?' I ran out the door, not giving my parents enough time to refuse me. I always had to have cereal for breakfast; it was better for me, although occasionally I was allowed Coco Pops rather than plain Rice Krispies. With parents as dentists, I was never going to be allowed loads of sugar for breakfast, or lunch, or ever come to think of it.

As soon as I was dressed, I raced down the stairs, desperate to get out all the ingredients for pancakes so that Mum had to make them. But, to my despair, she'd beaten me to it and was setting the table. With bowls. And spoons. And…milk!

'Mu-um, can't I have pancakes just this once, pleeeeeeeease?'

'No, Hermione, you can't, you know what that does to your teeth, but I bought you some Coco Pops yesterday, so you can have those instead.'

'Fine,' I humphed, sitting down at the table.

'Hey, none of that attitude with your mother, missy,' said Dad as he walked through the dining room door, 'or you can have Rice Krispies instead.'

I gave in and sat down, tucking into my bowl of cereal. Not that it was that bad, really, I just wanted pancakes for once. Just as I was finishing up, the doorbell rang. Dad got up to answer the door and came back a couple of minutes later with a bewildered look on his face.

'Who was it, dear?' questioned Mum, noticing his odd expression.

'Um … a Professor Mc-something, from … somewhere? Sounded like magic came into it.'

'Magic?' I remarked, grinning, 'Don't think you got that one right, Dad, must be your old age!'

'My old age! It's you with the birthday, you imp!'

Dad and I were ready to embark on another of our legendary tickle fights (well, legendary within the family, at least) when Mum started to speak.

'This Professor, did she have a green coat and funny hat?'

'Yes, but the coat looked more like a dressing gown, now you mention it.'

'Well, she's still stood at the door; shall I go talk to her?'

'If you must, dear.'

Dad and I exchanged looks, once Mum decided on doing something, there was no stopping her. Although, I must admit I was a little curious about this Professor Mc-something with her funny hat and green dressing gown.

We could hear Mum's voice at the door, and another one, this Professor's as she answered Mum's questions. The other voice was unusual, not very loud but very confident, as though she knew exactly what she was saying and knew that every word was being taken into account by the listener. It all went quiet, but minutes later, Mum returned, Professor in tow and suggested we all went through to the living room.

When we were all settled, and Mum had brought through a pot of tea (milk on the tray, but no sugar bowl, obviously) we all turned to look expectantly at the woman.

'Good morning, Miss Granger, and happy birthday!'

'How did you know that? I've never met you before, I haven't told you, I don't suppose Mum and Dad have, either.' I had started to ramble. There was something I didn't know and I wasn't about to let it rest. 'I haven't opened presents or cards yet, so there's none of those lying around to give it away. I suppose you could have looked it up, but that's –'

'Hermione,' Mum said, warningly, 'let Professor McGonagall talk, she'll explain.'

I stopped talking and waited, desperate to know how this stranger knew about me and why she had turned up, today of all days.

'Miss Granger, I'll address the issue of your birthday soon, but first let me tell you a little about me. My name, as you know, is Professor McGonagall, and as you will have deduced, I am a teacher. I'm offering you a place at my school – '

'What school, I've already applied to secondary school, and they don't confirm my place until after Christmas, why are you talking to me now?'

'This school isn't local, and we're very selective. We visit those to whom we will offer places on their eleventh birthdays, the time of year doesn't matter, unless their birthday is in August, in which case we visit in July.'

How did she know I was going to ask about August birthdays? That would be too short notice to offer a place in September.

'Miss Granger, Hogwarts School is a school of magic, and we would like you to join us next September.'

I was stunned. I guess this is what she had told my parents at the door, because Mum didn't react at all, and Dad looked to be remembering his previous conversation, as though he had finally grasped just what she was saying. Without giving me a chance to respond, Professor McGonagall continued:

'If you choose to accept your place, you will enter the magical world, and, in doing so, you must abide by our laws. Particularly, you must not practise magic in front of non-magical people, and you must not practise magic outside of school until you are seventeen. Miss Granger, please give this your utmost consideration, if you decline our offer, I am afraid I must wipe not only your memory of this encounter, but also your parents. You will be at risk of performing accidental magic which you – '

'Accidental magic? Is that dangerous? Could I hurt someone?'

'Yes, Miss Granger, it is a possibility. Although, my records show that so far, you haven't hurt anyone seriously with it.'

'So far? You mean my daughter has already performed magic?'

'Yes, Mr Granger, although I don't suppose anyone would have recognised it for what it was, after all, chairs break regularly, no one would have realised that Hermione broke Billy's chair after he called her names and pulled her hair at break. That's the worst of it, there have been other little things, such as levitating items towards her if she couldn't reach, or moving her possessions out of someone else's reach if they were trying to take them away from her.'

'So that's how she always used to get into the biscuit barrel as a toddler!' exclaimed Mum. I don't remember doing that, but I suppose I must have done – I would never have been allowed to help myself to biscuits, they're full of sugar, so Mum would have made sure they were out of reach. 'But, that hasn't happened since she was three.'

'No, along with every other child, your daughter began to gain some, limited, control over her powers. Three, you say? That is young. Mr and Mrs Granger, I suspect your daughter could have great power if you were to allow her to attend Hogwarts. Very few have so much control at such a young age. The Billy incident was when she was five, and there have been very few instances of magic since then. She would be a pleasure to teach.'

'Professor, you've given some examples of when I have inadvertently used magic, would you be able to demonstrate some intentional magic? Only, I haven't seen any proof that magic exists, other than your view on how certain events occurred.'

'Of course, Miss Granger, it is only natural that you should want some evidence that I am telling the truth. Allow me.'

Professor McGonagall then made all sorts of things happen to our furniture, before disappearing and leaving a tabby cat in her place. Seconds later she was back and the cat had gone. All three of us were astonished.

'Well, Hermione,' began Dad, 'it's up to you. Do you want to go to this school where you can learn to do all of that?'

'If it would make things easier for you, I could come back later and you could give your decision then,' said the Professor, 'I'll leave you some more information about the school and the magical world to help you make your choice.'

When we assented, she rose, made a handful of leaflets appear, and then disappeared with a crack. A crack! We sat in silence for a few minutes before Mum leant forward to look at a leaflet. Dad and I followed suit and all three of us read the leaflets, too astonished to discuss anything. We stayed that way for over an hour before Mum broke the silence.

'I was wondering why we'd never heard of anything magical before!'

'Hmmm?' responded Dad, obviously still engrossed in the Schools of Magic leaflet

'Will you please listen, Richard. These witches and wizards have a whole section of their government devoted to hiding themselves from non-magical people. They just make us forget what we've seen – that's a violation of our human rights! I have a very good mind to –'

Dad tried to cut her off before she could get carried away.

'Helen –'

'- write a complaint about that and hand it over to Professor McGonagall, she'll know who to give it to. It says here that the magical community is very small, so she probably knows whoever's in charge. And then – '

'Helen, listen to me! Please?' Dad never shouts and I think he surprised even himself with that outburst. 'What good will a complaint do? They would only come here and make us forget everything that happened today.'

'I suppose you're right, but I still don't like it.'

'You don't have to, but can you imagine what would happen if everyone knew about this other world? None of us would be happy, we'd all want magical solutions to our problems, and I think that secretly, most of us would wish we could have this amazing gift. I don't agree with their methods, but they have a point.'

'Dad, do you wish you had magic?' I had to ask, he had seemed amazed that I had done any before when the Professor told him, and it would explain his bewilderment first thing this morning.

'Yes, love, I think I do.' He said after a couple of moments. 'I do wish I had it, and I'm glad you do, if a little bit jealous a lot bit proud.' Dad had a habit of making up phrases in order to make a sentence sound good, something which annoyed Mum greatly, I could see her roll her eyes as he said it.

'So, do you think I should go to this Hogwarts then?'

'It's up to you, just like when you were choosing your non-magical secondary school. It's your life and you have to go somewhere you will be happy, but, if you choose Hogwarts, you must promise to come home in the holidays, I don't want to lose you.'

Mum was starting to look a little bit tearful, but she'd made my decision for me – I was going to Hogwarts.

'Thanks Mum. Now can I open my presents?'

Hours later, after I'd put up my birthday cards and opened my presents, Professor McGonagall was back on our doorstep.

'Ah, Miss Granger, I see you've opened your presents now.'

'Yes, Ma'am, and we've made a decision about Hogwarts. I would like to attend next September.'

'Very well, Miss Granger, I look forward to seeing you then. Someone will be in touch nearer the time to see about getting your school supplies. Would I be able to leave from inside your house, please? My method of transport is a little loud and would draw unwanted attention in the street.'

'Um, of course, Professor, come in.'

Once I'd shut the door, she twirled on the spot and disappeared into thin air with a loud crack.