"Daisy, can you get the mail?" my mom calls.
"Sure!" I bound down the stairwell, shuffle on my shoes, and open the front door. The warm breeze of summer hits me square on the face, and I let out a breath of contentment, relishing the crisp winds of Nottinghamshire. I walk down to the mailbox and open it, after some embarrassing difficulty. It's stuck, I swear!
I pile the letters into my arm, tucked carefully between my elbow, and read the outside of each one. There are a lot of ads, like the ones on TV. One of them has "BILL" written in big, angry, red letters. Then, I see a letter with my name written in fancy, loopy cursive. Daisy Nova Sewell, it reads.
A red, wax seal keeps the top flap closed, which means it must be super important. I don't get mail that often, so excitement courses through my body. I nearly jump up and down on my walk back to the house.
"Look, Mum! I got a letter!" I call once I return inside.
My mom is in the kitchen. She's wearing her apron, but it isn't near lunchtime or dinnertime, so she's probably making brownies or cupcakes.
She turns around to face me and speaks with a smile on her face, "That's wonderful, sweetie! Who's it from? Is it from Rose?"
"No, mum, you're so silly!" I say. "Rose lives so close to us! Why would she send me a letter if she could just walk here?"
I look down at the letter again. I squint at the ink, fumbling with the creases. "Uh... I don't know," I say sheepishly, to answer her previous question.
"Let me see," she says. I give her the letter, and she opens it on the kitchen island. She takes a minute to read it, and then sets the letter down. Her eyes twinkle like stars. "You just got accepted into Hogwarts, honey!" she says.
"Hogwarts?!" I say excitedly. My mom has told me about Hogwarts many items before. She told me stories of when she was little and went to school. "It was magical," she would say to describe her overall experience. I had dreamed of going there ever since she told me her first story, of when she was in herbology class and tripped over a large root. That's when she met her best friend! They shared a dorm together, and they made their own small garden in the yard. I already met my best friend, but that just means Rose and I can go to classes together and learn everything and have lots of fun!
When I was ten, I would constantly worry about whether or not I would get into Hogwarts. I nearly asked my mom's ear off with my constant worrying. My mom reassured me, though, that I would get in no matter what because I was a witch with magical blood. Plus, she went to Hogwarts, and I was her daughter.
"I knew you would get in," my mom praises me. "Do you know what this means? We can go shopping!"
If there's one thing that gets her more excited than me, it's shopping!
"Yay!" I cheer. Sometimes, I don't like going shopping—I would rather play with Rose or maybe I'm too tired—but this time, I am so excited to get my stuff for Hogwarts!
"Oh! Did Rose get accepted, too?" I ask. Drats—I didn't even think about that! What if she didn't get in? Then she would be super sad and have to go to a magical school somewhere else, and that means we can't go to classes together. Then I would hardly ever see her again. That would be horrible!
"Why don't you ask her? But, oh, I'm sure she got in, too," my mom answers. "Why don't you go over to her house and play with her this afternoon? Also, ask her if she wants to go to Diagon Alley with us later this week!"
"Okay, thanks, mum!" I say, getting ready to run out the door again. "Bye!"
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Dear Ms. Sewell,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find an enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
"Rose! Roseeeee!" I call. I step onto her porch and knock on the door. I don't hear anything inside, so I knock again.
Eventually, she opens the door. She opens it slowly, like she wasn't expecting me, and then swings it wide open. "Hi, Daisy," she says. "What's up?"
Today, she's wearing a green and brown plaid button-up, with a long white skirt. Her long dark hair flows down her shoulder and she flips it over to the other side.
"The sky," I say, giggling at my own joke. I giggle a few more times until I finally say what I am trying to say. "I got my Hogwarts letter today!"
Her eyes widen and a huge grin forms on her face. "Wow! That's so cool!"
"I'm so excited!" I squeal. "Did you get yours, too?"
"Um, let me check," she says. She walks out the door, quickly shutting it behind her with a soft thud, and opens her mailbox. She shuffles through the thick stack of envelopes, missing the one with a red seal. "I can't find anything..." she trails off.
I grab the one I saw with the red seal and recognize the cursive ink. "It's here!"
"Oh," she says. "Phew, I thought I didn't get one!" She waves the letter above her head like it was a gift from the heavens.
We took a moment to clasp our hands together and dance excitedly. "Eeee! I'm so excited!" I say.
"Me too," she says.
"My mom said we're going to Diagon Alley soon, I think Friday," I tell her. "Can you come?"
"Yeah, probably," Rose says. She carefully rips open the letter and reads it. Her face turns sour, and I think it is because of the long list of items we had to buy for school. I remember when we were in 4th grade, and Rose had to carry a backpack that was humongous. She kept complaining to me about it for the entire first week.
"Anyways, my mom said I can play today!"
"Cool!" Rose responds. "Where do you want to go?"
"Hmm," I say, thinking it over. "Why don't we go to the park?"
"Sure," she readily agrees.
We walk to our favorite spot at the neighborhood park, the swing set, near the corner of the stone wall surrounding half of the park. We take our usual spots, me on the swing, and her pushing me.
"What are you most excited about?" Rose asks, and I know she means about Hogwarts.
"Hmm, I don't know... everything!" I say.
We both laugh. "I'm most excited for the classes," she says. "Like learning magic spells."
She keeps pushing my swing, and I think more about her question. "Oh, the food!"
Rose snorts. I continue. "The teachers, exploring the school... and the common rooms!"
"The teachers?" She raises an eyebrow. "You mean the ones that blame us for everything that goes wrong?"
"I think Hogwarts's teachers will be different," I say with determination. "We're different here, so the muggles don't understand us. But, at Hogwarts, everybody will be a witch or a wizard, so we won't be called weirdos!"
"That's hoping for the best," she says, "but you're kinda right."
I laugh, kicking my feet in the air. "Always look on the bright side!"
At that exact moment, I heard someone's annoying high-pitched laughter, and it could have only belonged to one person in the world. I turn my head to find myself nose-to-nose with Jessica Johnson. Woah! Where did she come from?
Rose stops pushing my swing.
"Hey, freak," she spits in my face. I scrunch up my nose. "You're sitting in my swing. It has my name on it."
I twist my head to look at Rose, and then I turn back. "I didn't see a nametag," I say innocently.
Jessica's face turns red. "I didn't ask," she snaps.
"Go away Jessica," Rose says, holding onto the chain of the swing tightly. "Stop bothering us. We were here first."
"Don't talk back to me, brat," Jessica says, her open mouth sending spit flying everywhere. "Now get out of my park! Dylan!" She snaps her fingers and Dylan, one of the guys who accompanies Jessica wherever she goes and practically worships the ground she walks on, walks toward me and grabs the opposite chain of my swing that Rose was holding. He shakes it, causing me to lose my grip and lose my balance. I stumble off the swing and fall into the dirt.
"Hey!" Rose says angrily. She walks around the swing and pushes past Dylan. She grabs my hand, helping me stand up. I rub my knee, which got scratched when I fell, holding back a wince.
"Find. You can go on the swing now! Just leave us alone!" Rose says, holding my arm close to her chest protectively.
"No, actually," Jessica sneers. "You see, since you're fifth graders, you'll be going to middle school next year, and I don't want you in the same building as me."
I look at Rose again and we burst out laughing. Jessica's face turns even redder, like a strawberry. She looks so mad I think she's going to faint.
"Actually, we won't be going to your school anymore," I say, giggling. It's mostly because we are going to Hogwarts, and she will never know about it! She'll stay in boring muggle school for the rest of her life. "We're transferring! So we don't have to put up with you anymore!"
Jessica looks close to bursting. She waves her hand and Bryton, Jessica's other obsessive lackey, steps forward. He's a lot taller than me and Rose. He steps in front of me, grabs both of my arms, and picks me up. My feet are barely brushing the ground. I involuntarily freeze up, my limbs going rigid.
Rose looks like she's going to bust a vein with how hard she was glaring at Bryton. Jessica steps in front of her to stop her from reaching me. "You're not going anywhere, freak!" she says.
Rose tries to sidestep her, but Jessica grabs onto her hair and tugs hard. Rose cries out in pain and scrabbles against Jessica's hand for purchase. Their tussling causes the dirt underneath them to fly everywhere, creating a small fog of dust particles. I start to cough and my eyes water. I start to lose feeling in my arms with how hard Bryton's holding them.
I want to cry out but I breathe in the dust and I dissolve into a coughing fit.
Suddenly, the dust starts to move in the opposite direction, slowly picking up speed. It starts to swirl around Bryton, forming a small tornado of dust. Jessica finally lets go of Rose's head, and Rose pushes her to the ground. Jessica looks enraged, but the strange dust winds cause her to look over with confusion and terror.
Jessica starts screaming when the dust picks up even higher speeds and starts throwing out fallen sticks and rocks in various directions. She scrambles up and runs away with Dylan on her tail, nearly tripping on her overly fancy dress skirt. They leave Bryton in the dust, literally, but he makes it out of the mini-tornado after a lot of difficulties. He trips on his way out, too.
The dust starts to clear up and I see Rose's silhouette run toward me. "Daisy, are you okay?"
I get up and brush the dust off my skirt. My knee hurts because I scraped it, and my arms hurt from where Bryton grabbed me, but I ignore it. The numbness in my arms starts to go away slowly. "I'm okay," I say. "What happened there? All the dust went flying, and—and then all three of them ran! It was so funny!" I almost choke on my spit from laughing.
She starts to laugh, too. "I think... it was another one of your 'infamous accidents'," she says after a while.
"Ooh! Ooh!" I say, stupidly excited. "Accidental magic?"
"Yeah," she says, nodding. "Good job, Daisy. You scared them away! Did you see how afraid Jessica looked? That'll tell them twice before messing with us again."
I notice her rubbing at her head absentmindedly, then remember how Jessica had fought with her. "Is your hair okay?" I say sympathetically.
"Yeah, it's fine," she says. "Jessica's so mean. And for what?"
I frown. "I don't know. I guess some people are just jerks."
"Stupid muggles," Rose says. "They treat us like dirt just because they don't understand us."
"Yeah," I say. "But not all muggles are like that. Like my dad!"
Rose smiles at me. "Of course not. Your dad is special. He married a witch."
I frown deeper. "Maybe there is a reason. There has to be a reason, right? Nobody's born evil. Or are they?"
Rose shrugs again. "Who knows? But it's not our business to deal with that, anyways."
"Yeah!" I huff. "The adults should take care of the mean bullies. We're just kids!"
She laughs. "You know how some of them can be. They just don't listen to the right people."
I hum in agreement. "We should get back," I say. "I need to change out of these clothes, they're so dirty now."
Rose stares off into the distance. Sometimes I wonder what her amazing brain is thinking. No doubt there are a million different ideas in there, running all the time, thinking about which way to proceed.
"Do you want to come back to my house?" I ask. "My mum is making brownies. Or cupcakes, I couldn't tell."
"I would love to, but I should go back home," she says. "I need to change as well. I'll see you Friday?"
"Yeah," I say. The sun lights up her hair. "See you Friday."