The Dursleys of 4 Privet Drive always liked to boast that they were a very proper, respectable family—please, honestly—they never had anything to do with mysterious or weird things, because they simply didn't believe in that sort of nonsense.
Things were a bit complicated in this family; they had a secret they were desperate for people not to find out, and they had never wanted anyone to find it.
But trouble still came knocking in the end, leaving a little boy named Harry Potter in their home, the son of Mrs. Dursley's sister, Lily Potter.
And our story begins on a clear Wednesday.
Mr. Dursley was humming a tune as he picked out the most disagreeable tie he could find to wear to work; none of them noticed a transparent owl flapping out from the cupboard under the stairs.
That cupboard was the place they'd prepared for their nephew, Harry Potter.
Harry had to get up early every day, but today he had to get up especially early, because it was his cousin Dudley Dursley's birthday.
Only, when he woke up, he suddenly discovered that at some point, a letter had appeared on his bedside table.
He picked up the envelope in puzzlement, switched on the wall lamp, and looked carefully at the letter.
On it was a wax seal, a shield-shaped crest: around a large letter "H" were a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake.
Whose letter was this?
Curious, he found that it said: "1991, Surrey, Little Whinging, 4 Privet Drive, cupboard under the stairs, for Mr. Harry Potter."
Did letters really have to put the year on the address?
Harry flicked away a spider crouched on the envelope and, curious, tore it open. It said:
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Phineas Black
Dear Mr. Potter:
We are very pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
On behalf of the entire teaching staff, I would like to extend our warmest congratulations on your outstanding magical potential.
We eagerly look forward to your arrival on September 1st, when the Hogwarts Express will be ready to take you to our beloved school.
Enclosed you will find a list of required supplies, set textbooks, and a ticket for the Hogwarts Express. Your parents or guardian are welcome to accompany you to Diagon Alley to purchase the necessary items.
Once again, congratulations on receiving your acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We will wait in expectation for your owl to bring your reply before July thirty-first.
Deputy Headmistress
Sincerely, Matilda Weasley
A Magic School?
Harry pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He was sure this had to be someone's prank—could it be Dudley's? Had he cooked up this kind of prank as a joke for his birthday?
Yet just as he pushed his glasses back on and his fingers brushed his scar, his vision suddenly went black.
When he came to again, Harry found that he was already in a small town that looked rather old-fashioned.
"What… happened to me?" Harry stood up and cautiously looked around.
Then he noticed that at some point, a red-haired woman had appeared in front of him.
The woman didn't seem all that old—about the same age as Aunt Penny, more or less—but she looked much kinder than Aunt Penny.
After all, Aunt Penny was sharp-tongued and mean, and treated him very poorly.
"Mr. Harry Potter?" the woman asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered timidly.
"Don't be nervous, Mr. Potter." The woman gave him a warm smile. "My name is Matilda Weasley. You've received your acceptance letter, haven't you?"
"You—you're the deputy headmistress?" Harry's eyes went wide. He'd thought it was a joke!
"That's right." Lady Weasley nodded. "I know your situation is a bit special, but that's all right."
Harry asked hesitantly, "B-but I can't go to Hogwarts. My aunt won't pay my tuition. She's planning to send me to a school called Stone Wall Middle School."
"Stone Wall Middle School?" Lady Weasley thought for a moment. "That's a Muggle school, isn't it? Don't worry, Mr. Potter."
Harry froze for a second; he didn't understand that word Lady Weasley had just used.
"Muggle? What's a Muggle?" he asked.
"Oh, we call anyone who can't do magic a Muggle." Lady Weasley replied cheerily.
"Then I still need to go home and tell them." Harry said carefully. "I just glanced at the acceptance letter and got sent here. If my uncle and aunt find I'm gone, they'll be really worried."
Worried?
Probably not; more likely they'd feast for days to celebrate losing the burden.
"All right, all right." Lady Weasley nodded. "It sounds like the acceptance letter was turned into a Door Key, but we never do that—so, Mr. Potter, do you still have the letter?"
Harry raised his hand and handed the letter to Lady Weasley.
He didn't notice that the "1991" before the address had disappeared.
Lady Weasley took out her Magic Wand and checked it over, but found no trace of magic.
"How odd," Lady Weasley clicked her tongue in amazement. "This is the first time I've seen anything like it. So this is your home address, isn't it? Surrey, Little Whinging, 4 Privet Drive?"
"Yes, ma'am." Harry nodded cautiously.