I woke up on my eleventh birthday with excitement. It was a Saturday, which would normally mean I'd sleep til noon, but it's not every day you turn eleven, so I was up by nine. I could smell my mum making eggs and bacon, so I hurried downstairs.

Mum kissed me on the top of my head and told me to sit down, and I began shoveling food in my mouth. Once she and Dad sat down, they began their adult talk: politics, weather, gossip about the neighbours, etc. I stayed quiet, thinking of how old I was getting. Maybe I should start looking for grey hairs, I jokingly thought to myself.

I stared out the large kitchen window, people-watching. It's extremely difficult to people-watch, however, if there's no people to be watching! I got so caught up in the frustration that all the pedestrians in London had suddenly disappeared overnight, when I caught a disgusting whiff of something. I saw smoke.

"Dad, the oven's burning!" I managed to get out, just before flames erupted. This was especially strange, considering the oven wasn't even on.

We all jumped up, and mum and dad sprayed the oven with the fire extinguisher. I'd hoped that wasn't the highlight of the day. I soon got distracted by the mail truck heading down the street. I grew excited, as I always enjoy being the person to grab the mail.

I sorted through the five envelopes: three bills, a birthday card from my gran, and another letter for me that I didn't recognise. Laying the other four on the front table near the door, I sat on the sofa to open the strange letter. What was so odd about it is how it was addressed. It read:

Sabrina Stratford

Small Second-Floor Bedroom

16 Shawfield Street

Chelsea

London

The paper of the envelope was very old-fashioned. It seemed to be made from parchment, and there was a red wax seal on the back that had the letter "H", surrounded by a lion, eagle, badger, and snake. There was no stamp or return address.

I opened the letter, very curious. There were three pieces of parchment inside. The first one read:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards),

Dear Miss Stratford,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

I was utterly baffled. I'd think this is a prank, but even I, who was notorious for being mischievous, wouldn't go so far to scope out where a person slept. I wondered how this arrived in my mail slot without a stamp. I continued to read, to see if I could find out more information. The second piece of parchment was a list. It detailed that students would have to wear robes, and there was a book list. My goodness, the kinds of books that were listed! I couldn't tell which was funnier, the titles of the books or the names of the authors. I nearly fell over laughing when I read that Magical Drafts and Potions was written by one "Arsenius Jigger".

Finally, it would be required that students should purchase a wand, cauldron, and a few other items. Oh, and of course, I should be well informed that first years are not permitted to bring their own broomsticks, silly me!

I didn't believe any of this rubbish for a second. This was probably some advertisement for a cult of some kind. Of course, there was a part in the back of my mind that tugged at me. It sounded awfully marvelous. I mean, could you imagine? Going to a school to learn magic?

I decided to go back into the kitchen to show Mum. She was reading a book and had a cup of tea in her hand. "Mum!" I called, "You'll never believe what rubbish was sent to me. Read this,"

I handed her the envelope and she proceeded to read the parchment. After a few minutes, she handed them back to me and said, seemingly uninterested, "I don't know who sent it to you or their intentions, but I suggest you throw it out."

I was a bit disappointed. Whoever wrote it clearly put effort into all of the little details, and I really wanted to put it up on my bulletin board. "Yes, ma'am," I went back upstairs and started to toss the envelope out, but I stopped myself. Instead, I walked up to my bed and, lifting my mattress, placed it underneath. I let go of the mattress and went to go see what was on television.