Harry Potter: Awakening the Unknown

That morning had started like any other over the past couple of years.

The scent of freshly brewed tea drifted through the air, mingling with the faint mustiness of old parchment and ink. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting long golden streaks over the stacks of books cluttering the floor.

Harry and Hermione were seated cross-legged on the rug, their latest finds from Diagon Alley spread out before them.

Hermione had her nose buried in a thick tome of ancient runes, diligently copying symbols into her notebook. At the same time, Harry flipped through a book on wand motions, tracing the delicate illustrations of spellwork with his finger.

The room was quiet except for the occasional scratch of pen on paper and the rustle of turning pages. Then, without warning, a faint whooshing broke the silence.

Two thick thick envelopes of heavy parchment slid smoothly through the gap under the door and landed on the floor with a soft thud.

Hermione, deep in her notes, barely noticed at first. She was in the middle of deciphering a particularly complex rune sequence when her eyes flicked toward the unexpected intrusion.

Her pen stilled.

"Harry," she said slowly, nudging his arm.

He looked up, following her gaze.

For a brief moment, neither of them moved.

Then, as if drawn by some unseen force, Harry reached forward and picked up the one bearing his name.

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging, Surrey

His fingers tightened around the parchment. Even after everything they had discovered, after months of practicing magic in secret, after sneaking into Diagon Alley to buy books and supplies, they could finally take their next step.

Swallowing hard, he glanced at Hermione, who was clutching her letter with wide eyes, her mind racing.

"This is it," she whispered, barely containing her excitement.

Harry nodded, his heart pounding.

With trembling fingers, Hermione turned her letter over and carefully broke the wax seal. She pulled out a thick sheet of parchment, her eyes scanning the page with rapid intensity.

"Dear Miss Granger,

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…"

Her breath hitched as she read further, absorbing every detail. A second page listed various supplies: robes, a wand, a cauldron, and standard spellbooks.

Harry's hands weren't as steady as he unfolded his letter, but he forced himself to focus. The words were nearly identical to Hermione's, confirming what they had long suspected.

They had a place in the magical world.

He exhaled slowly, looking up at her. Hermione was grinning now, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Harry," she breathed, "we're actually going."

He nodded, a small, disbelieving smile creeping onto his face. "Yeah," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "We are."

After another moment of stunned silence, Hermione sprang to her feet. "Mum has to see this!" she said, already heading for the door.

Harry followed her down the hall and into the kitchen, where Mrs. Granger was seated at the table, flipping through a shopping magazine with a cup of tea beside her. She glanced up as they entered, taking in their eager expressions.

"What's all this, then?" she asked, setting her magazine aside.

Hermione thrust her letter forward. "Mum! Look! It came—the letter from Hogwarts!"

Mrs. Granger blinked, clearly caught off guard. She took the parchment from Hermione's hands and skimmed over it, her brows lifting slightly.

After a long pause, she glanced at Harry, who wordlessly offered his letter for confirmation.

"Well," she murmured, looking between them. "It certainly looks official…"

Hermione's excitement faltered slightly at her mother's uncertain tone. "Mum, this proves it," she insisted. "Magic is real! We told you it was real!"

Mrs. Granger smiled gently, though there was still a hint of skepticism in her eyes. "Sweetheart, I never doubted that you believed in it," she said carefully. "But it's a bit much to take in all at once, don't you think?"

Harry held his breath. He had grown so used to people ignoring or outright dismissing things about him that he braced himself for the worst.

But Mrs. Granger didn't scoff or brush them off. She didn't tell them they were imagining things.

Instead, she studied the letter again.

"And this… Hogwarts—it's a proper school?" she asked slowly.

Hermione nodded vigorously. "Yes! It's where magical children learn everything—spells, potions, history! We even have a list of supplies we need!"

Mrs. Granger exhaled, setting the letter down. "Alright," she said finally. "Let's sit down and go through everything properly."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a quick, excited glance.

Mrs. Granger gestured for them to sit at the kitchen table as she reached for her reading glasses. Sliding them on, she picked up Hermione's letter again and read it more carefully this time. Harry sat quietly, gripping the edge of his letter while Hermione bounced slightly in her seat, barely containing her excitement.

"So," Mrs. Granger began slowly, tapping the parchment, "this Professor McGonagall—she's one of the teachers at this school?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "She must be! It says she'll be expecting our reply soon."

Mrs. Granger hummed thoughtfully. "And this list of supplies…" She flipped to the second page, eyes scanning the various required items. "Robes, a wand, cauldrons, books—good God, they expect an eleven-year-old to carry all this?"

Hermione, however, was undeterred. "It's no different than packing for a normal school year," she reasoned. "Except, well… everything is magical."

Mrs. Granger shook her head in disbelief, rubbing her temple. "And how exactly are we supposed to buy all this? I assume we don't just walk into a normal shop and ask for a set of wizard robes."

Hermione straightened, her tone turning authoritative. "We have to go to Diagon Alley," she said matter-of-factly.

Mrs. Granger arched a brow. "And where, exactly, is Diagon Alley?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. Technically, they had already been there, though sneaking off on their own hadn't exactly been by the book.

"It's in London," Harry answered. "It's hidden, though. You can't just find it unless you know where to look."

Mrs. Granger exhaled, setting the letters down at last. "So, let me get this straight. You two—my eleven-year-old daughter and her friend—have known about this wizard school for years, and now you expect me to take you to a hidden alley in London to buy magical supplies?"

"Yes," Hermione said immediately.

Mrs. Granger pinched the bridge of her nose. "I should've known you'd say that."

Harry fought the urge to smile. Despite her disbelief, Mrs. Granger wasn't outright rejecting the idea. That was good.

"So, what do we do?" Hermione asked eagerly. "Do we write back? Do we wait for someone to come to us?"

Mrs. Granger pursed her lips, considering. "Well, if this Professor McGonagall is expecting a reply, we should send one. But I'd also like to speak to someone from this school before I go running off to buy spellbooks for my daughter."

That was fair, Harry supposed. He had a feeling Hermione wouldn't be entirely happy about the delay, but it made sense.

"How do we send a letter?" Mrs. Granger continued. "It doesn't exactly come with an address."

That, however, was something neither Harry nor Hermione had considered. They had read plenty about magical post in their books, but sending a letter was another matter entirely.

Hermione frowned, chewing her lip. "Maybe an owl?"

Mrs. Granger blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry thought back to the post owls in Diagon Alley. "They use owls to send letters in the wizarding world," he explained. "Maybe if we write a reply, an owl will come pick it up?"

Mrs. Granger muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like utter madness before sighing. "Alright. Let's try that, then."

Hermione was already reaching for a spare sheet of parchment and a pen. "I'll write it!"

She grabbed her pen and began scribbling furiously. Mrs. Granger and Harry watched as she carefully composed a letter addressed to Professor McGonagall, confirming that she and Harry had received their letters and asking for instructions on how to proceed.

Once satisfied, she folded it neatly and looked around. "Now what?"

As if on cue, a soft tapping noise came from the window.

All three of them turned, startled. A large, speckled owl perched outside, a small pouch tied to its leg.

Mrs. Granger slowly removed her glasses. "I am not prepared for this."

Hermione leapt to her feet, rushed to the window, and unlatched it, letting the owl swoop inside with an air of practiced efficiency. It landed gracefully on the back of a chair and extended its leg.

Harry hesitated before stepping forward and carefully untying the pouch. Inside, there were several neatly folded envelopes, along with a single slip of parchment that read:

"Deposit outgoing Hogwarts letters here."

Hermione grinned triumphantly. "See? Magic!"

Mrs. Granger pinched the bridge of her nose again. "I need some more tea."

Laughing, Harry dropped Hermione's letter into the pouch and gave it back to the owl. With a soft hoot, it flapped its wings and soared out the window once more, disappearing into the morning sky.