The next morning Will went straight downstairs and made himself some Coco Pops before going into the front room and plonking himself down in front of the TV. Krissie was already in the room, curled up underneath her my-my (a blanket she took around everywhere), watching Live and Kicking on TV. 911 were performing their latest single, it was your typical boy-band trash but Will knew better than to wrestle the remote from his little sister. Anyway, his dad would be down soon and he refused to watch that rubbish, preferring to watch Transworld Sport on Channel 4 instead.

As if he heard his son's silent plee at that moment Mr Wilson walked into the room, a brew in one hand and the selection of letters in the other. He sat down on the sofa next to his eldest and started shifting through them

"Hey, you got one. Looks like junk mail mind you, must be some kind of advert. Appears to be parchment, maybe Camelot have got a promotion on" He muttered handing his son the envelope.

"And why would Camelot bother sending adverts down here? It's in Chorley, you never did leave Bolton behind, did you?"

Dave leant over and scruffied up his son's hair in reply. Will wished he wouldn't, it would take him ages to get his fringe in just the right position to cover his eye again. He looked at the envelope, thick yellow parchment with a wax seal on the back and a crest of some nature stamped into it. He turned it round and looked at the address written in emerald green ink:

Mr W Wilson

The back bedroom

Number 7 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

With some anticipation he opened the letter and read it, he didn't get past the first line before he threw it aside

"Your right dad, some junk mail. Didn't even bother to read it. Something about going to a magic school. It better not be someone taking the mick for me not getting accepted into Woodhey." Will tried not to sound angry, but he was even though he knew he was almost certainly jumping to conclusions.. If he didn't know that Dudley didn't have the time or intelligence for this kind of prank we would have sworn it was him winding him up.

"Oh well, welcome to your first piece of junk mail. Plenty more where that came from, I bet it was about a summer scheme or something. Next time it'll probably be saying that you have been accepted for a Barclaycard"

Will shrugged and continued to watch Zoe Ball and Jamie Theakston making prats of themselves on TV, hoping very soon his dad would confiscate the buttons. Will pushed the thought of the letter to the back of his mind.

The next morning the same thing occurred, except it was Sunday so in theory there should be no mail. Obviously whoever was doing it was hand delivering them, though thinking back Will realised the distinct lack of a stamp should have told him that much straight up. Yet again the letter was chucked straight into the bin.