Disclaimer: Just in case you were wondering, I do not own anything about the Harry Potter Universe. All I can lay claim to is this particular arrangement of letters into words in some approximation of coherence.

Gwylan Pyrene looked around the Hufflepuff table, watching, almost sadly, as her classmates read the days post. She turned back to her newspapers. She had two delivered daily; The Daily Prophet and the London printing of The Salem Gazette. Neither was quite like what she would have read at home, but oh well. Every Wednesday she also got an imported copy of the previous Friday's Wall Street Journal just for fun.
At home, in upstate New York, her mother, a Muggle artisan, read the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal and a collection of artistic magazines. Her father, a wizard, read the Salem Gazette (American printing) the Wizarding Times and several magic related trade journals. Gwylan herself read parts of most of them and all of the comics.
Her parents had warned her that letters would be few and far between. First they had to be sent across the Atlantic by Muggle mail, which took up to two weeks. Then they had to be flown by owl post from an address in London to Hogwarts. Still, it was the beginning of October and she still had not heard from her parents at all.
She set her Gazette back down and qualified her mental comment.
Well, there was that personal ad that her mother had placed in the Salem Gazette for the day after term started.

Muggle mother wishes daughter
best luck at school. Love, smiles,
and don't forget to breathe.

That had cheered her up and made her homesick all at once. She could almost hear her mother saying the words.
Gwylan had just forced her attention back to an article about recent a ministry study when loud gasps from her classmates caused her to look up again.
There was a late delivery. Two large owls were clutching an enormous parcel between them. The detail that was drawing attention was the appearance of the box. This was not the usual brown paper wrapped bundle. It was mostly white with words on the side. As it swiftly came closer, Gwylan could suddenly make out the name of an American parcel service.
She stared, astonished as the parcel came to rest on the table directly in front of her. The tired owls rested a moment, breathing audibly, before winging away once again.
Gwylan shook her head in disbelief. A package like this one would cost a fortune to ship from New York to London. Surely it was not for her.
"Who is it for?" Liza asked from down the table.
Gwylan stood to get a clear look at the label. "Me." She said faintly.
"Well, open it, then." Ansel demanded from across the table.
Gwylan nodded. She used her table knife to slice through first the twine the owls had used to carry it, and then the packing tape that sealed it shut. A few packing peanuts escaped as she quickly opened the flaps.
The first thing buried in the peanuts was a heavy ceramic bowl enclosed in bubble wrap. She set it carefully on the table to unwrap it. She recognized it immediately as her mother's work, along with her father's magical influence. Taped to the inside of the bowl was a letter. She sat down to read it.

Darling Daughter,
We hope you are settling in well. Your mother wanted you to have this as soon as it was finished. We started working on it as soon as you left. She threw it. I carved the runes, inside and out. You know the basic glazing, potion incorporating procedure. The result is this…voila… your very own magical video-telephone. Just say the enclosed magic words and you can talk to home anytime you wish. (Please remember the time difference.)
Since we were paying huge fees to send this to you anyway, we decided to spend a bit more and send you a few goodies as well.
One more thing, there is also a letter and a small package for one of your professors, Severus Snape, who I knew in school. Please give it to him in private, preferably in his own office.
Your mother and I love you very much. We wish you all the best. Talk to you soon.
Your loving father,
Flavius Pyrene

Gwylan looked up, tears in her eyes.
"From your parents?" Liza asked.
"Yes, of course." Gwylan swallowed. "All the way from Deerfield, New York." She rummaged through the peanuts and pulled out a collection of American candies, a beaded necklace, (also her mother's work) two science fiction novels and the small parcel for Professor Snape. She slipped the package into a pocket of her robes and piled the rest into the bowl.
"What are these?" Ansel asked, poking at the packing materials.
"Packing peanuts and bubble wrap. Muggles use them to keep things from breaking. You can pop the bubbles like this." She demonstrated. "Such a satisfying sound."
"Weird." Ansel said, now eyeing it suspiciously. "Why didn't your father bespell it to not rattle around?"
"In case it was opened in customs, most likely." Gwylan mused. "I don't think it was, though. The tape was still sealed."
She looked up; the once crowded breakfast tables had cleared considerably.
"I should probably take this upstairs. I think I have time before class."