When she opened her eyes, she saw that partial light was coming though her blinds. She picked herself up off the bed and held her clock up so she could see the time. The dawn was breaking from the house tops right infront of her, piercing its way through the lingering dark. The sparrows were chittering in the shrub that bordered her window and a heavily marked alley cat strode away from it's resting spot, the sidewalk directly infront of her bedroom. Looking down, she picked up the parcel that she had forgotten about hours before. She sat down on the edge of her bed and placed in on her lap, hoping it would not be a dissapointment. Her fingers nimbly undid the knot of string surounding it. The string fell away and the brown paper around it sagged. A sharp rap at her window made her heart race, her hands freezing over her present. She carefully replaced it on her bed as she approached her window.

A profile of a puffy bird blocked the sun from her eyes. It twitched and fluttered, obviously irritated and rapped on her window once more. It hopped off her window ledge to the ground a few inches below as she curiously released the latch and opened the window. Lysandra let out a small shriek when the tawny owl flapped it's way into her room, emmiting a high hoot. It landed of the back of her desk chair and dropped a previously unnoticed paper from it's beak before circling her room with strong hoots and flying feathers.

It dropped back onto her bed and waited expectantly, staring at Lysandra with deep eyes. She cautiously edged towards the bird, her heart and mind running a marathon. It hooted once more and fluffed it's ridged feathers. The brown hues of it's feathers stood out profoundly from her dark green blankets, creating a blotchy forest effect. Her mind settled and she spoke wearily.

"I don't have any food for you."Lysandra stroked the bird as it passively cooed. She stood and lifted the letter from the chair.

Lysandra Phyllips

Last door in the basement hall

16 Wilmon Crescent

London, Britain

The back side was sealed in wax, with a crest imprinted on it. She pressed her thumb to it, and to her astonishment, met warmth. The tawny owl hooted once and soared out her bedroom window. Only when her eyes adjusted to the light did she realize that the bespectacled alley cat was sitting only feet from her window. She blinked out of anadulted shock and swore she saw it wink at her before trotting off down the street.

She blindly sat on her bed, grasping the letter in her hands. Her head swamped with unanswered questions drew no thought at all. She sat there in silence and awe at the events that just happened, until the shrieking of Cassiopia in the room over shook her mind. She must have awoken from the owl, but Lysandra didn't bother to become annoyed. She brought the letter to her eyes and examined the wax carefully. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was emblonized on the front of the letter as well. She hastily looked at the door before pushing her fore finger between the envelope flap and drew out the contents.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Phyllips,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term 1 begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Lysandra finally got away from her sister's horrid tea party in her room. Not only could she still hear Cassiopia's shrieks echoing in her head from her previous attemps, but the words echoing from the Hogwarts letter. She hadn't told her parents about it, and she didn't intend to. She hadn't a moment to herself that whole day to respond, and not until after lunch the next did she escape into solitude.

Lysandra pulled out a pad of lined paper and a ballpoint pen, and considered her responce. She took the letter out from her desk drawer and reread the words to herself. A quarter hour passed and she could not think one word that would sound right. She tucked the materials back into her desk, and excused herself for a walk.

Her steps sounded lost in the swirling world of people around her. She passed by countless buisness men and women striding around on their lunch breaks. She passed a couple sitting on a bench talking, and heard the familiar hum of motor vehicles and their exhaust piping throught the hot air. She walked on, trying to formulate a responce that wouldn't sound pathetic, but the constant idea was bewildering. Magic? Wizarding schools? The thoughts pulled her in every direction of fact and fiction. She was confused on whether she should believe it all or blame the insanity on lack of sleep.

Lysandra fell into step with a travelling crowd and found herself lost in a crowd of people, separating and merging into one another. Her feet grew tired and she left the main streets into a smaller shopping district. She knew she could find her way home but she did not want to stray too far. A draft from a shop door brought a newspaper sailing along the street, almost directly infront of Lysandra. Curious, she picked up the slightly damp papers and stretched out to look at the headlines.

DISPUTES BETWEEN MINISTRY AND MUGGLE PRIMINISTER RESOLVED

The picture beneath it was a shocking one. Two men tilted their hat's at each other in a lavishly decorated room, and shook hands. Though, the idea was certainly a normal one, the men in the picture moved through the sequences, tipping and shaking, then repeating. Lysandra stood jaw slightly agap at the moving image.

"You! Girl!" came a voice from not to far off. A man in an odd dress like robe was jogging towards her, his auburn hair flying out from a rather questionable looking hairy bowler. She stepped back from her pursuer but did not run. He stopped infront of her, doubled over and out of breath. He looked to be a young man, rather tall and slim, but his baggy clothes hid his entire body.

"Girl, please if you would?" He pointed to the paper in her hands that in her nervousness, was grasping quite hard. Another older man came walking hurriliy down the sidewalk, wearing the same sort of odd clothes as the one before her, but he sported a walking stick that seemed to spark on contact with the ground. He walked up to his companion and grimaced at Lysandra.

"If you would, miss," his voice scratchy and low. He was much shorter than his friend who was still panting for breath. Uncertain of what to do, Lysandra meekly held out the paper to him, prepared to run if he came after her.

The younger, taller one caught his breath and said quietly, "Have you got your letter? You seem about age."

His companion gave him a dirty look and caught him in the stomach with his cane."Don't you go askin' a muggle like that!" His clenched fist pulsing. "You want me to have to hand you and her over to der Ministry?" He spoke in a hushed voice, presumablely so Lysandra couldn't hear. When Lysandra spoke she was shocked by herself.

"You mean the Hogwarts letter? I...I got one." The two men stared at her like she was sprouting wings, but the older one suddenly snapped back. "Well, very well then. I hope you does well." He walked off back in the direction he came muttering seemingly profound words about his younger friend. The younger one recaptured his breath so she held out the newspaper with the moving images to him.

"Nah, you keep it. You'll find out soon enough. Good luck in September!" he said as he hurried to catch up with his companion.

The whole idea of the walk had good intentions, but when Lysandra returned home, she was more confused than ever. She slipped the paper into her jacket before she walked in her house and hurried down the stairs to her room and locked the door. She realized she was holding her breath as she finally unclenched her lungs.

Breathing in her bedroom air seemed to be the only familiar thing to her. Her bed seemed distant, like she hadn't felt its' blankets before. Gasping, she heard the Tawny owl give a curious hoot from her open window. It hadn't gone far since it delivered her letter and she figure it wasn't going to until she wrote her reply. Dropping the news paper on her bed, she fell into her desk chair and put her head down on her arms. Confusion swirled with all her thoughts. She wanted to just shut them out of her head and let herself think clearly.

The abnormity of her head instanly clearing bothered her, but Lysandra felt thankful. Thinking the same questions with no answers was erksome and horrid. Free of the burdens, she thought of her reply. 'I might as well go if I have a chance,' she thought.

The page was only a quarter full with only a handful of words on it, but the message was clear that Lysandra would indeed be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She wondered what school in the right mind would be named Hogwarts, but the thought occured that a lot that happened recently was not in the right mind. The owl gave an excited hoot at the sight of the finished letter and snatched it out of her hands.

"Erm...Hogwarts, I suppose, Minerva McGonagall?"She spoke like anyone would talking to an animal, unsure of their sanity. The owl, though, took flight immediately, sure of it's path. It flew up until the day light swallowed it. She turned and let out her breath heavily.

"If I'm a witch, then I might as well know what the world is like." Lysandra assumed it was a wizardry newspaper, for no paper she had ever seen moved like this one. The activity on the page never stopped, always returning and repeating the images that swamped her head.