And It Began

And It Began

By Aylia Colwell™ (a.k.a. Eratosthenese)

To those who have felt the sweet honey of life

And lost it

Because of the evil of humanity.

the letter

A scream came from the kitchen, causing the boy to waken with an unpleasant lurch and tumble off of his bed.

"Jonathon!" came the cry. "Jonathon! Come home! He got his letter! He's going to Hogwarts!"

The boy groggily got up from his tangle of sheets that had fallen off of his bed along with him and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen where his mother was screaming with excitement, brandishing a yellow letter in the air, while dancing around on the kitchen table in front of a large two-way mirror through which she had just been communicating with her husband, Jonathon.

Sharri Potter was an easily excited woman. She had hazel eyes and a long, ski-jump nose which gave her the appearance of being much younger than her white hair suggested at her delicate age of 53. Her well-defined lips were almost always smiling, and nothing was more important to her than her only son and her husband.

This day was the best day of her life. Her son, James, had finally received his letter of admission to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the best wizarding school in Britain, possibly even the world. She and her husband had both attended the school, met and fallen in love there. Now was her son's turn.

"James!" she screamed, jumping off of the table and scrambling over to him. "James! Your letter!" she squealed.

"Letter?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"Yes, James! Your Hogwarts letter! You're going to Hogwarts!"

James managed to take the crumpled letter from her before she returned to the kitchen table for another victory dance.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

James had to read the letter several times over before understanding what it was that it was saying.

He was going to Hogwarts.

A small smile crept up onto his face and he looked up to see his mother still happily dancing.

In the other room, the doorknob turned and Jonathon Potter walked in, carrying a large briefcase with parchments of all colours sticking out at strange angles. His eyes were rimmed with dark lines beneath his glasses and his graying black hair more mussed up than normal.

"Dad!" yelled James, running to meet Mr Potter in the hall. "Dad! I got my letter!"

His father managed to smile tiredly and asked in a hoarse voice, "Where's your mother?"

"Dancing on the kitchen table."

Mr Potter sighed. "Not again," he said. "She did that after she found out she was pregnant with you and it took us at least a week to clean the marks from the table."

James followed his father into the kitchen and as soon as Mrs Potter saw her husband walk into the room, she leapt off of the table and embraced him.

"He's going," she whispered.

Mr Potter dropped his briefcase on the floor behind her as he wrapped his arms around her and said, "I know, Sharri."