2. THE LETTER & DREAM

LYDIA SILVER, FIRST FLOOR BEDROOM, 56, MARGARET STREET, LONDON

Who was Lydia Silver? The address was perfect except her name. She was Hemmings. Even the documents showed her name as Iris Hemmings, after the adoption because no one knew what her name was ...

What was her name before she was found? Was it Lydia? Lydia Silver? So many questions zoomed through her mind, unable to make a stop on the present situation. Finally, the owl let out a little hoot, she was brought back to the present and looked at it. "Are you hungry?" it let a slow nod, and she headed towards her closet, where she found a remaining piece of the bar which she wanted to finish carefully, in order to satisfy herself completely, but she let go of her selfishness and handed it to it. It nibbled quietly, when she unfolded the letter to read its contents,

HOGWARTS SCHOOL Of WITCHCRAFT and WIZADRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Silver,

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

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

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress.

She read the letter plenty of times to find herself in reality every time she finished. Witchcraft and Wizadry? She's a Witch? But, how do they even know her? Moreover, the names totally different. After what felt like hours, she looked at the owl who was resting its head on the window pane, snoring silently. The sky was dark and the house was silent, even though there was another presence except her. She could feel her thoughts bombarding at the door, faintly, 'What will she do?' 'She does have something unrealistic.' 'Maybe I should take her to a psychiatrist' It flooded through her mind like electromagnetic waves.

She took a deep breath, thinking slowly, even though the address is correct, accurate to her location, she can't possibly accept the letter. It's probably a prank, someone who owns an owl and had intense research to send it.

But somehow, she wished if it this would be true. She finally could belong somewhere.

Morgan was pacing down the hall, when she heard soft footsteps from the stairs. She turned her head to see Iris coming, with an envelope, which bore a unique H with some animals surrounding it.

"What's that?" she asked, curious of it more than anything. Was it a message from an institute, a workplace perhaps? She handed the letter quietly to her. She held the letter which felt like the old paper on contact. She read its contents carefully, her eyes widening in the process, the shock skyrocketing, her mind submerged in the storm of thoughts that came to her like a tsunami. "Are you a witch?" was finally all she could ask. She wanted to believe so much.

"I don't know. The names wrong. " she replied, her voice almost wavering.

"You didn't have a- "she stopped at mid-sentence, thinking if it would be wise to continue. She realized she had known her identity, so it wasn't a big deal, "You didn't have a name to begin with. We didn't know your name." she explained. Iris gave a slow nod, deciphering the path that this conversation was going.

"I'll owl them to give this at the proper address." She finally said. Morgan didn't expect that, "Owl? No Iris, is it you? I mean, are you Lydia?" she asked, careful not to blow up. "I don't know. I wish I was though."

She took back the envelope, headed upstairs. Morgan thought of asking dinner, but she was cut off by her quick reply, "I'm not hungry."

She slammed the door shut, waking up the owl in the process. It hooted lazily, stroking its feather with its beak. Iris plopped on her bed, wondering what to do. Is there really a school for witches and wizards? If so, then why it so uncommon. Is it a bad thing? So many thought coursed through her mind and she drifted off to sleep sub consciously.

"Honey, isn't she beautiful?" a woman's voice dominated her mind. "She's really pretty." A man replied. "How about Jane? Is it too common? Or Brittany?" "how about we make a name from our own?" "If we take 'ly' from 'Olly' and 'Dia' from 'Diana' it becomes- ""Lydia." Both voices chuckle.

"Don't you dare touch her!" A terrifying laugh echoed.

Iris wake up, jolting, sweat trickling down her forehead. She heard voices, she got off from the bed to see through the window. All the houses were pitch black, the road had dim light from the street lights. Everyone was asleep.

Was she hallucinating? She could always hear the thoughts. And that was a weird thought, it was ever a thought to begin with.

She felt her stomach grumble, and headed downstairs silently. She was careful of the footsteps, the occasional creaking of the floor and opened the cupboard to find her cashew cookies. She held the box and silently made her way back to her room.

She carefully chewed her cookies replaying her dream or the thought she heard, again and again. The voices were related to Lydia, but she couldn't place her finger on the right spot. Who were they and how was Lydia related to her? Was she thinking too much? She suddenly remembered about her locket and pulled it out carefully to see the ring, shining brilliantly pale under the moonlight. She examined the ring closely and the feather brushed past it. Suddenly, the ring began shining, and the surroundings around her begin to change suddenly. Her room transformed into a hall with the bed into a couch. She heard the sudden cry of a baby, followed by hushes and convincing words 'now now'. 'We have a present for you Lydia!' she heard the same voice of her past dream. Finally, a woman and man holding a baby entered the room. The woman had dark brown locks which limited till her shoulders, her apron complimenting the dress she wore. The man beside her had dirty blonde hair and smiled innocently at the baby. "Mama has a present for you!" he mimicked the excited voice of a child and the baby gurgled happily. He looked up, staring straight at Iris, who went rigid unable to move from her place.

He had beautiful eyes.

Pure brown.