"So, mom, tell me about your stay at Hogwarts." asked a young 11-year-old girl, looking up at her young mother. She had bright green eyes and pitch-black messy hair.
"It's a very long story, are you sure you want to hear it?" asked the mother.
"I mean this could take all day to tell, possibly more." she warned.
"Come on, Mom! Tell me about it!" she whined.
"Alright." She sat down in a comfortable chair, sitting her daughter down on the floor beside her. She let out a long breath, preparing to tell her tale.
"I was quite the juvenile delinquent when I was younger. My best years were probably at Hogwarts, but it all started with a letter, just like yours."
I was in my bathroom brushing my teeth and late for school again. Not like this was anything abnormal, in fact it was as normal as anything. That was why my mom hated it.
"Jenཀ" Mom called from downstairs, "Hurry or you'll be late for school againཀ"
"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled to myself, "What else is new."
"And you have mailཀ"
I was surprised at this because I rarely ever got mail and, when I did, it was usually said in a menacing tone rather than a casual one.(It was usually a complaint from school.)
I ran downstairs after I had finished brushing and grabbed that letter off the table. It was definitely for me, all right. The address fit:
The Messiest Bedroom
91 Oak St.
I ripped open the letter and read and reread the first line.
Dear Miss Smith,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Momཀ It says that I've been accepted at some stupid school called Hogwartsཀ" I called to Mom.
"That's wonderfulཀ I was worried that you might not get in due to your, ahem, behavior."
"Wait, mom. You know about this school?" I asked, confused.
"Yes, it's where I went when I was your age."she said, matter-of-factly.
"Then can you answer me one question?"
"Why did give it a name that sounds like a pig covered in warts?"
"Hold your tongue, young ladyཀ"
"I'm taking you to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get your things." she said curtly. "Until then, behave yourself."
"Scout's honor," I said, holding up three fingers.
I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. "Like I'm a scout." I said quietly as I grabbed some instant cement silly string and shoved it in with my homework. Today seemed like it would work out in my favor. It wasn't every day you found out on the last day of school you were a witch. After moving back to England last year, it was the best thing that had happened to me. Something told me that things would only get better.