Tonight’s open meeting promises to be truly magical… come down to Lerner 510 and see for yourself!

How did we get here? Following a barrage of letters that wreaked havoc on our home, my family moved us to a tall house on a rock island out at sea. As we said goodnight that evening, I laid on the cold, dirt floor, unable to sleep a wink, listening instead to the storm raging outside. Now, at the stroke of midnight on my 11th birthday, down came the front door in a sudden blast that shook the house awake. I turned, my mouth agape, as there stood a bearded giant no smaller than nine feet high, hunched over the doorway.

He turned toward me, grinning. “Boy, I haven’t seen you since you was a baby, Y/N. Got something for ya. Afraid I might have sat on it at some point! I imagine that it’ll taste just the same.” Out from under his coat, he revealed a box hastily tied with twine. “Baked it myself. Words and all.”

I took it gingerly from him and lifted the lid to see a cake nestled in the box with the words, “Happee Birdae Y/N” in green frosting.

He seemed pleased, moving into the room and seating himself on the sofa. “It’s not every day that you turn 11, now is it aye?” Pointing the umbrella in his hand toward the ground, I watched as two sparks emerged from its tip to light a fire in the hearth.

I was dumbfounded. The house had been cold and sullen just moments prior on the eve of my birthday. Now, it filled with the glow of a crackling fire, and there in the middle of the room sat a mysterious figure who claimed to have known me since birth, taking the trouble to find me and bake me a cake in the process. I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, who are you?” 

“Rubeus Hagrid. Keeper of keys, green grapes, and articles at Bwog. Course, you’ll know all about Bwog.” 

I shook my head. “Sorry, no.”

Hagrid raised his eyebrows. “No? Blimey, Y/N, didn’t you ever wonder where your mum and dad learned it all?”

“Learned what?”

Hagrid looked at me and smiled. “You’re a Bwogger, Y/N.”

I’m not sure what to say. “I-I’m a what?”

Hagrid nodded. “A Bwogger. And a thumping good one at that, I’d wager. Once you train up a little.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “No, you’ve made a mistake. I can’t be…a-a Bwogger. I mean, I’m just… Y/N. Just Y/N.”

“Well, just Y/N,” Hagrid retorted. “Did you ever have an itch to write? A desire you couldn’t explain, even when you were angry or scared?”

I softened my expression, remembering all those late night 2 am ideas scribbled on parchment, dying to be put in print.

Hagrid handed me a letter, watching as I tore open the seal.

Dear, Y/N. We are pleased to inform you that you have been formally invited to Bwog open meeting! Bwoggers will be required to report to room 510 upon their arrival at Alfred Lerner Hall. Please find an enclosed list of all necessary materials before your arrival. Meeting begins tonight, at 9 pm. We await your response. To avoid detection by Spec writers, please use the Lerner entrance located along Broadway. We look forward to having you.

Yours sincerely,

Bwogwarts School of Bwitchcraft and Bwizardry

A magical start to my birthday indeed.

New open meeting location just dropped via Flickr