Peter waited upstairs for a few minutes to be sure his mother was calm again, and returned to the table to finish his breakfast. He'd just taken a bite when there was an awful crash from behind him. He and his mother ran to the window to see what had made the racket.
Lying in the bushes, an owl was flapping its wings in annoyance. A crisp white letter was clasped in its beak. Peter felt his heart sink to the floor. This couldn't be happening. He hadn't shown any signs of magical abilities, like, ever. He was a squib, and he was perfectly happy about that.
His mother appeared to be thinking the same thing as she hesitantly took the envelope. In bold black letters, it was labeled:
Mr. P. Pettigrew
9 Pomeroy Court,
Old Amersham,
BUCKINGHAMSHIRE
Peter inhaled sharply. He hadn't seen or heard his real last name in over three years, he'd been going by his mother's maiden name since the night his father died. His mother ripped the envelope open, and hurriedly read the letter.
Dear Mr. Pettigrew,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.