I woke up the day of my eleventh birthday. I was excited, that way kids are. I stood up and I looked around, but I didn't see anything. There weren't any presents, 'cause it was only 7 o'clock in the morning, Saturday morning, so I opened my rooms door and I went to the kitchen. I turned up the lights and, suddenly, I saw something moving and making noises over the table. I screamed, so mi dads woke up and run to the kitchen.
They arrived to the kitchen. My mum and my dad were in pijama, but my dad was holding a hokey stick. It was a very funny scence, because the "thief" was a light brown owl, that looked at us wide-eyed. I laughed before I saw it was taking a letter in its claws.
-What's that?- Asked I, to nobody special.
I walked to the owl, who didn't move. I took the letter. "Miranda Waldorf, Street...."
I opened it and started to read. At first, I didn't understand anything. I turned around to look at my parents.
-Is this right, dad? Mum? Am I...A witch? -Asked I-You told me grandpa was inventing that story about Hogwarts and Harry Potter and so on. Was it? Was it a story?
My dad looked at my mum. Then they looked at me, and made me sit down. They did the same.
-It isn't invented- said mum, talking with very low voice.-Hogwarts exist, the grandparents of the father of you're grandpa went there, when it was very, very dangerous to be in that world...
I re-read the letter, smiling.
-She has to go, darling...
My parents were discussing of letting me go or not.
-Ok, she can go...-Mum gave up. She stood up to prepare hot chocolate, and I run to hug her.
This was only the begining of a magic and dangerous story, because things usually don't go as well they could...Let us see in the next chapter :)