The Letter from Wizards

Who would have known that the ring of a doorbell could start so many drastic chain of events? A doorbell seemed like such a harmless thing, after all. Then again, reflecting back on it, Hermione realized that it wasn't the doorbell that started everything. It would have happened regardless.

It had been late Sunday morning, almost noon, when the doorbell rang. Both of her parents were at home, her father reading a newspaper, her mother in the kitchen.

"Will you get that, Harold?" Mrs. Granger called at just the same time Mr. Granger said, "There's someone at the door, Susan!"

Hermione, who had her nose buried in a textbook, was the one who eventually answered the door.

She opened it to find a small man standing there. He was smiling at her, looking thoroughly excited. He had light blue eyes and fading blonde hair. He looked like he was in his late forties.

But it wasn't any of this that she first noticed. It was his distinctly purple top hat that was his most noticeable feature.

He swept it off his head and bowed. "Dedalus Diggle, at your service." He paused to study her, and his smile stretched even wider. "You must be Hermione Granger. Yes, you're just as I expected."

You can imagine how surprised Hermione felt. She didn't know, nor had ever known, any one by the name of Dedalus Diggle, and it was beyond her how he knew her.

"Are you - are you a friend of my parents?" she asked, even though she rather doubted it. He didn't seem like the type of person her parents would befriend.

"Oh no, your parents have no idea who I am." He said this in a way as if that in itself gave him the permission to be there, rather than the other way around. He stared at Hermione expectantly. Hermione, meanwhile, was at a lack of anything to say.

Just then her mother joined her, an oven mitt on one of her hands.

"Who is this, darling?"

"Dedalus Diggle," said the small man, "at your service. I've come about your daughter, Hermione Granger. She has received an offer to a very prestigious and exclusive school, and I am the representative they sent to you."

Mrs. Granger raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe we've applied anywhere. And what school is this, anyways?"

"Well, Mrs. Granger, you may not have heard of us, but we've certainly heard of your daughter. I can explain everything. Please, may I come in?"

Mrs. Granger stared at him curiously for a few moments before eventually nodding and letting him in. Shutting the door, she and Hermione followed Dedalus into the living room.

As Dedalus entered, Mr. Granger looked up from his newspaper to see who it was, and then put it down completely when he saw it was someone he didn't know.

"May I ask who you are?" he asked as he stood up from his seat and smoothed down his shirt.

"Certainly. My name is Dedalus Diggle, sir," he said, and then proceeded to bow before continuing in his speech. "I've come about an offer your daughter has received from a school."

Mr. Granger frowned slightly. "I see. And what school are we talking about?"

Dedalus smiled. "Before we go into that, we must get one fact very clear." He paused, and then, as if he had changed his mind in saying it, he started wandering around the room. With interest, he examined the living room, occasionally picking things up, or bending down to take a closer look. All was silent for several seconds except for when Dedalus Diggle muttered "Fascinating. Extremely fascinating," at some common day object.

Hermione could see that her parents were very perplexed at this strange visitor, perhaps even regretting letting him in. She couldn't exactly blame them. It was one thing to announce she had been offered a place in some school, and entirely another to start examining their living room without finishing what you had begun to say.

After about a minute, her father seemedto regain his voice. "And, um, what may this fact be?"

Dedalus whirled around to face him. "Well, the fact that your daughter's a witch, of course!" he exclaimed matter-of-factly, as if this was the first thing that should have occurred to them.

"P-P-Pardon?" her mother asked incredulously. "My daughter's - my daughter's a what?"

Mr. Granger didn't wait for Dedalus Diggle to answer. "I think that perhaps you should leave now," he said firmly.

It seemed that his suspicions that the man was half-mad had been confirmed, and now wanted to get him out as quickly as possible.

"Nonsense, I'm not hurrying anywhere. I still have plenty of time to explain things," Dedalus answered, apparently ignorant to the fact he had worn-out his welcome.

And then he looked straight at Hermione, and when he spoke next, she knew it was only to her.

"You know, don't you? You've known for a while now that you're different. At your age, you can't control your powers, so there would have been signs from when you were little."

Hermione nodded, entranced by this utterly ridiculous and yet appealing idea. Once again, just as it had been when she had said the word magic, this felt as if it made sense, as if it were the answer to everything.

"You're a witch, Hermione Granger, and you know it. A witch, and you'll be a mighty good one at that, I can tell."

"You're - you're saying I'm a witch, and that I have…magical powers?"

Her parents seemed quite alarmed that she was taking the idea into consideration.

"Hermione…" her mother began, but Hermione ignored her.

"And that there's a school I've been accepted in, and it's for - for…"

"For young wizards and witches just like you," Dedalus Diggle supplied. He paused as if he was considering something, and then brightened. "Of course! I should have done this sooner. Here, I have proof. It's a letter, from the school." And with that he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Hermione.

She carefully took it. It was a yellowish envelope, with her address on the front written in purple ink. Slowly she opened it, and took out the two letters inside. The first letter was typed up in black, bold font and looked very official. She took a deep breath, and then started to read it aloud:

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. Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 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

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Silence followed as Hermione Granger finished reading the letter. She looked up from it, and then let out a sigh.

Now, Hermione could have asked many things as she finished reading the letter.

She could have asked, out of curiosity, who Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall were.

She could have wondered, aloud, if it was possible that she was a witch, and, if it was, how she had not known her whole life .

She could have even questioned Dedalus Diggle's sanity, going so far as to ask him if he were mad.

But she did none of these things. Instead, she said, quite simply, "I don't have an owl. I'm afraid I won't be able to send a reply."

The silence stretched out even further after that, until, it seemed, Mr. Granger met his limit of how long he could remain quiet. His words were directed to Dedalus Diggle.

"My sir, if you believe that you can stride into our house, insist that our daughter is a witch and magic is real, and then give us a letter that anyone could have written as proof of this, you are dearly mistaken." He was fighting to keep his voice calm, though anyone could have seen he was upset.

Dedalus Diggle wasn't the least bit fazed by this. In fact, rather than being angry, he seemed apologetic.

"I'm sorry, I really am." He paused, and then smiled rather sheepishly. "This isn't the first time I've been sent to tell a Muggleborn they're a witch or wizard, but I am horrible at it," he said. "I always mess up the order in which you are supposed to do it - there's the letter, then the explanation, and then the demonstration. I'm quite a mess of a wizard, aren't I?"

If Dedalus Diggle was looking for reassurance that he was a good wizard, then he was certainly looking in the wrong place. The Grangers simply stared at him, flabbergasted.

"Which reminds me - the demonstration." He reached into a pocket and pulled out of it what looked like a long, thin, black stick. Hermione, however, knew that that wasn't what it was.

"It's a wand," she breathed in amazement.

Dedalus Diggle bobbed his head in delight. "She knows, she knows," he announced to Mr. and Mrs. Granger. They, however, did not share in his excitement.

"Darling, you can't really believe that…you can't really believe this is real," Mr. Granger said, though his tone was uncertain.

Hermione ignored him. "Can it do magic?" she asked.

"Why, of course!" Dedalus Diggle exclaimed, and, with a wide flourish of his hand, he purposely knocked over a vase that was standing on the mantel.

Mrs. Granger cried out as if she had been hit. "That was a present from my sister!" she exclaimed.

Dedalus didn't seem the least bit concerned. "Yes, and quite a pretty one, too," he said, as if it was pure politeness to compliment one's vase after breaking it.

"Here, let me fix it." And with that, he pointed his wand at it and said quite clearly, "Reparo!"

As if the pieces were being pulled to a magnet, they all simultaneously lifted up, and after a few seconds of swirling, they neatly joined together. The vase, fully fixed and without a scratch, gently positioned itself back on the mantel. If the Grangers hadn't just seen it smash, they wouldn't have ever known it had been broken.

"But…? How…?" Mr. Granger spluttered, utterly confused as his logical mind argued with his eyes.

Mrs. Granger, meanwhile, seemed happy that her vase had been fixed. "It's as good as new! But how is that even possible?"

"Magic!" her daughter answered assuredly.

"Magic," Mr. Granger echoed dully, shaking his head in disbelief.

Dedalus in the mean time, was pleased with himself. "You see, there is such a thing as magic."

Mr. Granger took a deep breath. "None of this should be possible," he said, looking at his wife.

She nodded. "And yet - well, we can't deny that the vase didn't just mend itself. Hermione…"

"Mum, it's real, I know it's real. I've always - I've always made things happen. Strange things that can't be explained. I have absolutely no logic to support me with saying this, but I'm a witch. I just know it."

"And this Hogwarts. Do you want to go?" her mother asked.

Hermione nodded slowly.

Mrs. Granger looked at her husband, who reluctantly also nodded.

"Then it's decided," exclaimed Dedalus Diggle. "Now, of course you need to buy your school books and other things." He pointed to the two letters still clutched in Hermione's hand. "The second paper is a supply list. It tells you what you need for school."

Hermione nodded.

"Now, you two being Muggles," he nodded politely at Mr. and Mrs. Granger, "you probably won't know where to go to buy the things needed, but I can show you the place, and help you sort things out with the money and such. Let's say we'll meet in London next Saturday, at this spot." He pulled out a piece of paper on which he wrote the address.

Handing it over to Hermione, he nodded, and then, bowing one last time, hurried out of the room, throwing an "I'll show myself out" over his shoulder.

The Grangers were silent after that for several moments. Finally, Mrs. Granger spoke.

"Well, is suppose that's that, isn't it? We have a witch in the family."