A Hogwart's Welcome
Location: Victor's Apt Bldg
Date: 27th July 2017
Time: 1:25 pm
The afternoon was hot and humid, and the stink of the street invaded Victor’s nose even with the window tightly shut. He glanced behind his shoulder once more to make sure his father wasn’t behind him before returning his attention to the paper in his hands.
Let’s see… a wand, a standard size 2 pewter cauldron…I wonder how big that is, standard size 2… a set of brass scales, a set of glass or crystal phials, a kit of basic potion ingredients, and a telescope. Potion ingredients… what is it talking about!
He read the list of necessary equipment again, though he didn't need to. He had memorized the whole letter since it arrived 3 days earlier. He just couldn’t make sense out of the thing. It was weird enough that he got mail in the first place, but this was ridiculous!
Hogwarts hu? Sounds kinda made up to me. This must be a joke, someone pulling some kind of gag.
It was the only possibility he could think of. Though, now that he really thought about it, strange things did seem to happen to him sometimes at the library. Books would appear at his table or open to needed information by themselves. He thought it was odd, like the place was haunted or something, but he never told anybody about it, and he never thought it could have been magic. Victor could even almost do it on purpose now, but that didn't mean anything, did it?
What a load of bunk… Telescopes aren’t magical…
And yet, he couldn’t stop reading it, this marvelous letter that promised so much. Was it real, would his dad let him go if it was? Could he really be a wizard?
He rolled over onto his back across his box spring mattress and held the note above him in the air, reading it one more time as the wind from his fan blew at the letter’s edges.
Outside, hardly anybody walked about, what with the weather being so uncomfortable. The apartments Victor and his father lived in were 5 stories tall and wide enough to span the entire dead end of the street. Fifty years ago it could have been considered a decent place to live, but now garbage was piled high against its sides. Many windows stood broken and in disrepair and fire escapes hung dangerously off their rusted bars. Profane and vulgar graffiti flashed gang signs across the brick walls, and more than one broken-down car was eternally parked out front collecting spider webs and vines.
Date: 27th July 2017
Time: 1:25 pm
The afternoon was hot and humid, and the stink of the street invaded Victor’s nose even with the window tightly shut. He glanced behind his shoulder once more to make sure his father wasn’t behind him before returning his attention to the paper in his hands.
Let’s see… a wand, a standard size 2 pewter cauldron…I wonder how big that is, standard size 2… a set of brass scales, a set of glass or crystal phials, a kit of basic potion ingredients, and a telescope. Potion ingredients… what is it talking about!
He read the list of necessary equipment again, though he didn't need to. He had memorized the whole letter since it arrived 3 days earlier. He just couldn’t make sense out of the thing. It was weird enough that he got mail in the first place, but this was ridiculous!
Hogwarts hu? Sounds kinda made up to me. This must be a joke, someone pulling some kind of gag.
It was the only possibility he could think of. Though, now that he really thought about it, strange things did seem to happen to him sometimes at the library. Books would appear at his table or open to needed information by themselves. He thought it was odd, like the place was haunted or something, but he never told anybody about it, and he never thought it could have been magic. Victor could even almost do it on purpose now, but that didn't mean anything, did it?
What a load of bunk… Telescopes aren’t magical…
And yet, he couldn’t stop reading it, this marvelous letter that promised so much. Was it real, would his dad let him go if it was? Could he really be a wizard?
He rolled over onto his back across his box spring mattress and held the note above him in the air, reading it one more time as the wind from his fan blew at the letter’s edges.
Outside, hardly anybody walked about, what with the weather being so uncomfortable. The apartments Victor and his father lived in were 5 stories tall and wide enough to span the entire dead end of the street. Fifty years ago it could have been considered a decent place to live, but now garbage was piled high against its sides. Many windows stood broken and in disrepair and fire escapes hung dangerously off their rusted bars. Profane and vulgar graffiti flashed gang signs across the brick walls, and more than one broken-down car was eternally parked out front collecting spider webs and vines.