When Ethan Jones received his Hogwarts acceptance letter, he was lounging in his recliner, lazily spinning two walnut-sized black fireballs between his fingers. He looked exactly like a retired old man rocking gently back and forth, twirling a pair of iron health balls.
Knock, knock, knock.
Ethan, long accustomed to the sound of tapping at his bedroom window, dismissed the fireballs with a casual flick of his wrist and strolled over to see whether it was a squirrel or a stray cat this time.
Even the well-travelled Ethan froze for a moment when he caught sight of the creature with those huge, piercing amber eyes.
"This is… an owl?!"
The owl outside the window stared back at the human, rubbed its eyes with one wing as if questioning its own vision, then pecked impatiently at the glass when the boy didn't immediately open the window.
The sharp tap-tap snapped Ethan out of his daze. He hurried over, unlatched the window, and let the round-faced, dark-brown owl flutter into his bedroom.
The owl dropped the letter it had been clutching onto the desk, then promptly perched on Ethan's shoulder and began nuzzling his cheek affectionately.
Ethan stroked its soft feathers with one hand while picking up the letter with the other, barely containing his excitement.
The envelope was a thick, yellowish parchment, addressed in emerald-green ink:
Mr E. Jones Second-floor bedroom (south-east corner) 8 Redburn Street Chelsea London
Flipping it over, he saw the familiar wax seal: a large H surrounded by a lion, a serpent, a badger, and an eagle. Unable to hold it in any longer, Ethan let out a triumphant whoop of laughter.
The sudden burst startled the owl. With an indignant hoot, the bird launched off his shoulder, circled the room twice in a flurry of feathers, then settled back down as if nothing had happened.
"Sorry, sorry," Ethan chuckled, gently smoothing its ruffled plumage. "Got a bit too excited there."
He wasn't in a rush to open the letter—he had been waiting for this moment for ages. First, he rummaged through his bookshelf for something suitable to feed his new guest.
"What do owls even eat? Dried anchovies? Nuts? Birdseed?" He grinned sheepishly. "Just warning you, I don't keep dried mice in stock."
Thanks to years of looking after every stray creature that wandered into his garden, Ethan's room was a mini pet-shop: cat treats, squirrel nuts, pigeon grain, you name it. Owls, however, had never been on the guest list before.
The owl turned up its beak at the nuts and seeds, but happily gulped down three dried anchovies. After one last affectionate head-butt against Ethan's cheek, it spread its wings and soared out of the open window.
Ethan waved until the bird vanished into the summer sky, then finally snatched up the parchment envelope and tore it open.
The first page read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Dear Mr Jones, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
A list of necessary books and equipment was enclosed. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by 31 July.
At the bottom, in elegant script, was the signature of Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.
Ethan slammed the letter onto the desk, threw himself back into his recliner, closed his eyes, and let the biggest grin spread across his face.
"It's finally here! I thought I'd have to wait another few months!"
"Ethan! Are you all right up there? What on earth are you laughing about?" His mother's voice floated up the stairs.
"I'm fine, Mum!" he shouted back, suddenly remembering he still had to share the news.
In his previous life he had been an orphan. In this one, the warmth of a real family was something he treasured more than anything. Grabbing the letter, he bounded downstairs.
Mrs Sofia Jones was curled up on the living-room sofa, watching the telly. Hearing his footsteps, she turned and smiled. "Another animal visitor? Squirrel? Kitten? Pigeon?"
Though nearly fifty, Sofia was still stunning—blonde hair, bright blue eyes, only the faintest laughter lines around them.
"You're wrong this time, Mum. It was an owl." Ethan waved the parchment triumphantly. "And it brought me a letter."
"A letter?" She raised an elegant eyebrow. Animals had always loved Ethan—even as a baby in his pram he'd been mobbed by pigeons offering breadcrumbs and cats dropping half-dead mice as tribute—but post delivery was new.
Her gaze flicked to the parchment, then to the ecstatic grin on her son's face. Her own smile widened knowingly. "Let me guess… love letter from a secret admirer?"
"Nope." Ethan handed her the letter. "Acceptance letter to Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts?" Sofia scanned the page, brow furrowing. "I've never heard of it. Is this some kind of joke? A school for… witchcraft and wizardry?"
"It's not a prank, Mum. Remember the fire in my old room three months ago? That was me. Magic."
The smile vanished from Sofia's face in an instant.
Three months earlier, Ethan's magic had spiralled out of control and set his bedroom ablaze. He had managed to put it out almost immediately, but the damage had still forced the family to move temporarily while repairs were done. His parents had never quite believed his explanation.
Later, once he'd regained control, he had shown them small demonstrations—flames dancing harmlessly above his palm—but they had dismissed it as clever tricks.
"You're saying there's an actual school that teaches children how to… control that?" She glanced at the letter again. "Hogwarts?"
"Exactly." Ethan dropped onto the sofa beside her and looped an arm through hers, giving her his best puppy-dog eyes. "And you'll let me go, right?"
Sofia sighed, but her expression softened. "It's your choice, darling. Though your father has already paid the deposit for Eton. You'll have to convince him yourself."
She knew, deep down, that even if Ethan decided to run away and join the circus tomorrow, the family wealth and his own terrifying talent would keep him safe and comfortable for life.
"Thank you, Mum!" Ethan planted a quick kiss on her cheek and beamed.
"Now off you go, troublemaker," she laughed, shooing him away fondly.
Letter in hand, Ethan bounded back upstairs, already plotting exactly how to win over his dad.
Watching him disappear, Sofia's smile faded. In its place settled a shadow of worry that no amount of money or magic could quite erase.