I looked up at my beaming parents. They seemed so proud of me… and then that stupid, bright green light hit them, and they crumbled in front of me.
I awoke with a start, heart hammering against my ribs. I glanced to my left to see Harry standing by my bed, carefully folding clothes. He always took on the household chores, trying to earn a moment of peace.
“Y/n, are you alright?” Harry asked, his voice laced with concern.
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Just another nightmare about Mum and Dad.”
Harry nodded grimly. “We should hurry downstairs. Remember, they’re having company over again.”
I hopped out of bed, pulling on a blue shirt and jeans. Harry and I descended to face the inevitable scrutiny of the Dursleys.
Before Dudley could unleash his usual torrent of complaints, I walked into the kitchen to fetch Uncle Vernon’s coffee, as was my designated task. Just as I was bringing the cup to him, he barked, “Bring out the damned coffee already!”
I turned to Harry after delivering the cup, watching my brother holding two yellowish envelopes.
“Dad! Harry has mail!” Dudley shrieked, snatching the envelopes from Harry’s hands with surprising speed. He thrust them into Vernon’s hands, who ripped them to shreds without hesitation.
“What was that for? Those letters were addressed to us!” Harry exclaimed, his voice rising in frustration.
Uncle Vernon merely ignored him, a mistake he would soon regret. Days bled into weeks, each bringing an avalanche of identical letters. We didn’t know where they came from, but they were addressed to both Harry and me.
~~~
Uncle Vernon, infuriated by the relentless letters, rented a cabin in the desolate countryside. We’d been there less than six hours when the door burst open. A towering man with a wild, bushy beard stood framed in the doorway.
Driven by fear and rage, Uncle Vernon brandished a gun. Aunt Petunia and Dudley cowered behind him, their faces pale with terror. Harry and I huddled behind the worn couch.
The man walked into the cabin as if he owned it, casually seizing the gun and bending the metal until it twisted into a grotesque circle. Uncle Vernon tried to shove him away, but failed miserably, culminating in a stinging smack to Dudley’s backside.
The man turned to us as our cousins scrambled upstairs, whimpering.
“Y/n, Harry,” he said casually, as if reshaping firearms and administering spanks were part of his daily routine. “You two’re wizards.”
My eyes widened in disbelief. A wizard?
“I’m Hagrid,” he said, handing us each a yellowish letter identical to the ones flooding our house.
I tore open my letter, skimming the contents with growing excitement.
“Come with me.” He turned and walked out the door, and we followed without hesitation. “I’m going to teach you the ways of a wizard.”
~~~
The next day, Harry and I were in the bustling streets of Diagon Alley with Hagrid, procuring the “apparent essentials” – whatever those might be.
“Hagrid? I read the list of items we need for… the school. What’s it called again?”
Our towering companion looked down at us, his booming voice echoing through the crowd. “You two’ll be going to a school called Hogwarts. It’s quite magnificent, it is. The first step will be getting your wands, which ya need in order to do magic.” His accent lent his words a peculiar but endearing quality.
“Where do we get our wands?” Harry asked, his voice brimming with anticipation.
“Right over there, at that shop called Ollivander’s,” he said, pointing towards a dusty storefront. “I’ll get ya two a birthday gift while you’re doing that!”
Harry and I approached the shop, unsure of what to expect.
“Oh, my! The Potter twins?” an elderly wizard, Mr. Ollivander, said as we entered.
“Hello, sir!” I said cheerfully, though I didn’t understand his excitement.
We began testing wands, each one responding with a unique flicker of magic. Harry ended up with a wand that mirrored another, a wand with a twin core. Ollivander explained that the other wizard with the twin core was an evil man whose name must not be said, but he was dead, so we weren’t that scared.
I found my wand after a few more tests, then walked out. Hagrid joined us, holding two cages covered with thin cloths.
“Here, I got yeh a bird, Harry, and you a cat, Y/n.”
“Thank you, Hagrid!” we said in unison, eagerly grabbing the cages and revealing their contents. Harry’s owl was a beautiful, snowy white, with luminous eyes and soft plumage. My cat was sleek and silky black.