Harry Potter : Cael Vale’s journey to Hogwarts

It was yet another quiet, boring afternoon for Hermione Granger. She had finished reading her favourite book for the fourth time — The Britannica of English Words — and there were no more books left to read. Her small room, with its pink wallpaper, a tiny bed, a cuddly teddy bear, and piles of books stacked neatly on every table, suddenly felt dull.

Sighing, Hermione pushed her chair back and went downstairs to the kitchen, where her mum had left a cheese sandwich for her. It had been almost a month since she finished pre-school, and now she was waiting, hoping to hear back from the four top schools in England. Thanks to her high scores, she had been able to apply to all of them.

As she munched on her sandwich, her thoughts wandered back to school — particularly last year. It hadn't been the happiest time. She often felt lonely, especially because of that girl, Samantha. Samantha would always make fun of Hermione, Making faces and calling her "Big Toot" because of her front teeth — two large ones that stuck out just a little more than the others.

Hermione hated those teeth.

She had begged her parents to fix them, but both of them were dentists, and they had refused. They told her she was still young, and her teeth might fall out naturally. Besides, they promised fixing them now would hurt — a lot. So, she would have to wait until she was older, maybe when she turned eighteen.

Today, though, sitting at the kitchen table, Hermione made herself a promise.

"When I start at my new school," she whispered, "I'll make friends. Real friends. I'll study hard, especially maths, and I'll finally have people to talk to."

She smiled to herself, determined. And she was sure Samantha wouldn't be there — her grades had been awful. Hermione's were excellent.

Suddenly, a sharp tap-tap-tap startled her. She jumped, turning toward the kitchen window. Her eyes widened in surprise — there, perched on the windowsill, was an owl.

A real owl.

It wasn't just sitting there. It was knocking at the glass with its beak, as if asking to come inside.

Hermione's heart raced. She was home alone — her parents were both at their dental clinic. But curiosity got the better of her. She walked slowly to the window, her hands trembling slightly, and opened it.

The brown owl swooped in, graceful and calm, landing neatly on the kitchen counter. Hermione let out a small yelp of surprise. The owl blinked at her, unimpressed, and stuck out its leg, where a letter was tied.😒

"Oh," Hermione whispered, puzzled. "You're trained… that's clever."

She hesitated, then gently untied the letter.

"Please don't hurt me," she whispered to the owl. "If you don't hurt me, I'll give you snacks."

The owl rolled its eyes in a way that almost looked… human. Hermione stared at it, unsure if she was imagining things. Still, she unrolled the parchment.🙄

Her breath caught. At the top of the letter were four crests — a snake, a lion, a badger, and an eagle. The symbols looked old and important. And underneath them, printed in neat writing, were the words:

Hermione Jean Granger

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hermione blinked. Hogwarts? Witchcraft? Wizardry? For a moment, she thought it might be one of Samantha's pranks. But the letter was too detailed — her full name, her home address, even her birthday.

The owl looked at her expectantly, tapping its foot on the counter. Hermione quickly fetched a piece of her sandwich — the owl nibbled the bacon eagerly, ignoring the cheese completely.

She read the rest of the letter, which explained everything: the supplies she would need, the books, the uniforms — even a list of items for something called "Potions class."

Was this real? It couldn't be. Could it?

Hermione decided to reply, just in case. She went upstairs, found a pen and paper, and scribbled:

"I am very happy to receive this letter. If this is real, please send someone to speak to my parents."

She placed the note carefully in the small pocket of the owl's letter pouch and returned downstairs. The owl took the note, flapped its wings, and soared out the window, disappearing into the sky.

Hermione watched it go, still unsure what to believe. Magic? Wizards? It sounded impossible.

Just then, the front door creaked open — her parents were home.

"Hermione, dear?" her mum called.

She rushed to meet them, letter in hand, and explained everything. Her parents read the parchment, frowning.

"It must be a prank, Monie ," her father said. "There's no such thing as magic."

Hermione shrugged. "Well… I sent a reply. It says they'll send someone."

Days passed, and Hermione nearly forgot the whole thing — until, three days later, there was a knock at the door.

She opened it, and her jaw nearly dropped. Standing there was a tall woman, dressed in a long cloak and pointed hat — the kind of outfit straight out of Hermione's storybooks. Her sharp eyes and serious face reminded Hermione of the strict teachers from school.

"Are you Hermione Granger?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Hermione replied nervously. "Who… who are you?"

"I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall," the woman said. "From Hogwarts. You received our letter and replied. May I speak to your parents?"

Hermione, wide-eyed, nodded and stepped aside.

"Mum! Dad!" she called.

Her parents appeared, surprised to see the strange woman in their home.

"Is this some kind of television prank?" her father asked.

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "It's no prank. Magic is real sir , and your daughter is a witch with magical abilities that is needed to be controlled ."

The room fell silent. Then, to prove her words, McGonagall pulled out a slender wand. With a quick flick, the small statue on their shelf transformed into a fluffy kitten, purring softly as it wandered the room.

Hermione gasped, her eyes shining with wonder. Her parents stared, stunned.

"This is real?" her father whispered.

"Very real," McGonagall replied. " We usually when a child is born with magical abilities we track them with a magical book and when they turn 11 years old we send them a letter to invite them to Hogwarts as that is the only school in UK to teach children with magical abilities , Even the British royal family has known about the wizarding world for centuries, so Your daughter has magical abilities, and at Hogwarts, we'll teach her to control them ."

Hermione's father turned to her. "Do you want to go?"

Hermione could hardly take her eyes off the kitten. "Yes," she said firmly. "I want to see magic for myself , I want to be able to make a kitten 🐱 as well ."

Her mother worriedly asked, "Where is this school? Will she be gone long?"

"Hogwarts is hidden in the Scottish Highlands," McGonagall explained. "And no She'll be home for Christmas and summer holidays. And Hogwarts study curriculum is for 7 years "

Hermione's parents exchanged a glance, then nodded in agreement.

"Good," McGonagall smiled. "If you're ready, we can visit Diagon Alley today. You'll need supplies."

Hermione's heart raced with excitement as she and her parents hurried to get changed. Today wasn't boring after all. Today, everything was about to change.