It was raining heavily outside and Ma made us all sit around the hearth mashing potatoes or skinning onions or just plain munching on the carrots that we were supposed to dice. It was July and there was this stormy weather that threatened to tear apart our barn with every gust and threatened to blow off anyone who dared to even put a toe outside.
All my younger sisters were chattering happily about Ma cooking the goose that day because Grandpa wanted something “warm” for dinner. I could hear Celestina Warbeck singing in the radio while Dad tried unsuccessfully to charm the back door into staying locked against the gale. But thanks to Ma’s waterproof and windproof fire, the hearth was still able to keep us warm.
You would think that no owl would dare even wake up from its perch in this weather. But as Dad tried to shut the backdoor unsuccessfully for the ninth time, the door burst open and in flew the most muddy, wet and bedraggled owl that I had ever seen in my life. Grandpa came down to see what all the hubbub was about and found Dad still struggling with the door and a dazed owl being half cuddled to death by my mom. He waved his wand and the door bolted itself and the owl dried up instantly. He grumbled about something that sounded like “chicken” though Ma had sternly said that the hen won’t be killed today.
Pa made a grab for the sodding leather pouch hanging to the Owl’s leg and managed to pull out an envelope that was surprisingly not all sodden. Ma suddenly started shaking violently even though there was no chilly wind coming inside now that the door was bolted right and tight.
“Father!” shouted Dad running up behind Grandpa and catching up with him on the first landing. He pulled out a letter from inside the envelope and showed him. Grandpa looked disbelievingly at it for sometime and then started reading it silently and then stared at me.
Ma burst into tears and hugged me tight and started kissing all over my face. It was alright for some time but then I felt as though I had stuck my face out in the rain for it was all wet from her tears and kisses. I tried to gently push her away but she clung to me tighter until Grandpa came down and prised her off me.
“Hmmmpfff” he harrumphed but looked at me mistily, “you have done well child” he said ruffling my hair.
“We have to take her to London and get her all the things that she would need. They sent a list!” said Dad brandishing the letter in air.
Ma hugged me one more time, hiccupped and went back into the kitchen. I asked Grandpa what this all was about and he sat me down and explained for a really long time.
I was ‘accepted’ into Hogwarts – a school, apparently, for young witches and wizards. It was located far far away in the wilds and was a great big castle with towers and dungeons. It even had its own lake, not just a small fish pond like ours, but a huge sea like lake. I was to get everything for school from something that sounded like ‘diagonally’ and then set off to school – um, Hogwarts – on a train.
My sisters all had their eyes as wide as gooseberries by the time Grandpa finished telling me that I would make a fine witch and make the family proud. I was rooted to the spindly chair that I was sitting on and felt like all my limbs had been locked in forever. It was like that one time when Grandpa used a body binding charm on me to keep me from jumping up and down on the couch.
At long last, I finally managed to ask one question “Do I have to go there alone?” and when he said yes, I burst into tears.
Comments
Post a Comment