27 August 1991

'Kathryn's little problem', that's what it's constantly been called. There has been no explanation. Until now. I received my Hogwarts letter, you see. I am indeed, a witch. I always knew I was different; I can do things that no-one else can and it just seemed that no-one understood me. Until Professor McGonagall, a Hogwarts teacher appeared in the (pathetic excuse for a) fireplace early this morning.

For as long as I can remember, I could do strange things, without there being rationale. They make up my fondest memories:

1) I don't know how, but I made my neighbour's dog bark and chase after my brother. That was my first experience of magic. He was covered in drool and slabbers, we found it hilarious, but mum for one, did not.

2) I also, accidently (on purpose) smashed my mum's prized crockery, with what must be described as telepathy, one Christmas when she decided to buy Peter a TV for his bedroom, whilst I got a pair of socks. She was exasperated, but had no way of proving it was me.

3) Lastly, and the best of all, I blew up my Dad's prized vegetable patch in the back garden when he told us we had a year's supply of cabbages to go round. I was having none of it. Cabbage soup, cabbage pie, cabbage flavoured water, eh, no. Dad has now made a garden pond. (I recon he should have thanked me for creating such a large ditch.) Let's just say, Dad's fantasy with the earth is definitely not a trait that has been passed on to me. And no, I will not say sorry.

My family often treat me like something on the bottom of their shoe. A few summers ago, I shielded my brother from falling in the park, cushioning his fall from the fireman's pole. He was sure to have broken a few bones. Yes, I had recently read the Superman comic and wanted a bit of glory. Mum started calling Peter, 'Our Miracle Boy' because he didn't get hurt. That really upset me...

Professor McGonagall told me that Hogwarts is a place where I can learn to control these abilities. I wished her luck. (Under my breath, of course, I couldn't be setting off a bad example when she had only just met me!)

I'm usually quite shy when it comes to meeting new people, I'm quiet, too. I'm used to sitting in my room for hours on end with my nose in a book, making no noise and pretending that I don't exist. The only person I really talk to is my Granny, who sees the best in all people; she's the only person I can be 'me' around. That person I would like to share with you. It's not that I necessarily choose to be that way, it's always 'Peter this' and 'Peter that'. There's nothing I can do about it.

For Professor McGonagall, I was on my best behaviour. She brought me into London, to Diagon Alley, cobbled streets filled with busy witches and wizards going about their business. The first place we went in was 'Gringotts', the Wizarding bank where I was to exchange my muggle money into Wizarding currency. My parents handed over a lump sum- they were only too glad at the prospect of seeing the back of me for 10 months each year (and tarrah to them, too!) The Goblins showed me to my new vault, number 1032, presenting me with my very own key! The Goblin with us, named Bogrod, helped me with the new money- the gold ones are Galleons, the silver ones are Sickles and the Bronze ones are Knuts.

After we went to Ollivanders, the wand shop. He didn't say much, but seemed to stare at me, with his tired eyes searching deep into my soul. It was like he somehow knew me and had forgotten. I, for one, had never seen the man before. Professor McGonagall had whispered something only audible to him and he shot a faint smile in my direction before placing a wand in my hand. He spoke the words, "Walnut and Dragon Heartstring, 12 and ¾ inches, slightly yielding". As the wand touched my fingertips, I felt a surge of warmth though my body, like the wand was an extension to my arm. I beamed at Professor McGonagall who pursed her lips and said, "Let's not stand around, we've got shopping to be getting on with". I had the overwhelming feeling that she didn't like me...

As the afternoon progressed, we were in so many different shops- 'Madam Malkins', for my robes, 'Fluorish and Blott's', the book store and 'Slug and Jiggers' the apothecary. I noticed that at the bottom of my list is said, "Students may bring, if they wish an owl, cat or toad" but it seems the money my parents gave didn't quite stretch. It would have been nice to have a friend. Everywhere Professor McGonagall and I went, there was always a sense of impatience in the air, that she couldn't wait to get back home and watch the newest episode of 'I'm Scottish, Get Me out Of Here'!

Today's journey ended as soon as it began, really... It seems that in both worlds I am a 'nobody' and that I don't matter. Maybe my parents told her about my unfortunate events...? I daren't say anything that meant I could lose my place at Hogwarts. This is my chance break away from the muggles.

But in all seriousness, maybe I'll find someone, some day who remembers that today is my birthday...