Letter to Hogwarts
I grew up in a small secluded neighborhood in the northern part of the UK, but no matter how “normal” my home looked, my family and my upbringing was innately different from the other kids on my street. They all went to a public school, and watched the telly. I never had that. I was homeschooled; I know how to read, write, and do math, but my dad was different from other dads. My dad can do magic.
I grew up with my dad reading me Bettle the Bard, and helping me collect the cards from chocolate frogs. Sometimes when there was a thunderstorm, he would tell me a story. He wouldn’t just tell it though, he would use his magic to make it come to life.
When I got older, he taught me about different plants, and their properties and what they could offer when making a potion.
My father is a professor at a school - hogwarts- that’s not too far from my house. Now I know what you're thinking “what does he teach” well that's where it gets weird. You see, my father teaches Potions, which isn’t offered at every school. In fact, not every person can do magic.
I grew up knowing that I was different, and had different talents than the other kids, but I was okay with it. In fact I embraced it. I remember the night when I got my acceptance letter to Hogwarts oh so vividly.
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Sunday 11, August 1991
It was a fine Sunday evening when the letter arrived. I was eating dinner with my father, and funnily enough I had just asked him; “Dad, it's been two weeks since I’ve turned 11, when will my letter arrive?”
He knew when it would arrive, (because as he is a teacher there) but he wouldn’t tell me. Instead he would say, “Have patience, Samara, your letter will come soon enough, just like every other young witch and wizard.”
The next thing that I know, a strong looking brown owl flies through our kitchen window with a letter attached to its leg. I recognized it at once as my Hogwarts letter. I was so excited that my father had to remove the letter from the owl; when it was finally in my hands, I calmed down enough to remember to be gentle so as to not rip it in half. As I read down the list, I was excited once again because it would mean I got to go to Diagon Alley. I had only been once or twice when I was small and didn’t go to school yet.
The shopping list wasn’t very large, but to me it was the greatest thing in the world. According to the list we had to get:
Uniform
Three sets of plain work robes (black).
One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear.
One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar).
One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Books:
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
Other Equipment:
1 Wand
1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set of glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set of brass scales
Students may also bring an Owl OR a Cat OR a Toad.
Of course, since my father knew when it would be arriving he had his camera ready to go. I didn’t hear the camera shutter, but he did show me the photo, and I was grinning like a fool. When I read that I could bring a pet, I almost immediately started begging my father “Ohhh, dad, please, can I please get a cat… you know that I have always wanted one!”
“Sam, Samara, calm down, let's take one thing at a time…Now what is on your list so I know what shops to go to…” He looked up and sighed when he saw my expression, before saying “We can go this weekend as long as you behave for Narsisa this week.”
I nodded my head vigorously, knowing that I had already finished this week's homework. He just smiled at my barely contained excitement before saying “Alright, go on upstairs it’s nearly time for bed.”
I gave him a hug before climbing up the stairs, heading to my bathroom to quickly brush my teeth and change into my pajamas.
As I drifted off to sleep that night, I couldn’t help but wonder what house I would be sorted into (although, I wouldn’t say I secretly wanted to be a slytherin just like my father). I had a hunch that I would probably be a Ravenclaw because all of the neighborhood parents would always comment on how smart I was.
That night I fell asleep smiling, as I dreamed about what my future had to hold.