Stretching, I wake up. My footie pajamas resisting. I sit up and groan. My mom, being the mom she is, barges into my room. I want to scream at her to get out and let me sleep, but she is singing happy birthday in her beautiful lull. She holds a muffin out in front of her and lights a birthday candle with the number 11 on it. When she finishes singing she smiles up at me and whispers, "blow." Kneeling down to my bedside. I blow and my mother laughs in the beautiful sing of her voice. 

"Happy Birthday, my beautiful, beautiful love." My mother hushed, she nipped the top of my forehead with a kiss. She did her classic side smile and sat me up. "I made you your favorite." She pauses and I finish her sentence with, "bacon and beignets." She responds with, "Come down when your ready." 

As soon as she walks out the door, I through on a puffy white dress with lace lining the edges. She does her hair up in her favorite 50's hair ploof. I quickly throw on some red flats and skip down the stairs to the kitchen. The first thing that I see is my mother kneeling over the table, a concerned look on her face. "Mom?" I ask loudly. She quickly jumps up and smiles at me, awkwardly. 

"There's a letter for you," She pauses, "from London." Now that surprised me. I walked over, slowly, and at the same pace, slid the envelope open. It read English words. It said things about wizardry and witchery and Hogwarts. "It's for the school of Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry, your grandmother and everyone else in this god damned family went there." Mom through her knife down onto the floor in frustration. Mom had always held a grudge against this place. And she had always kind of hated them for not taking her like everyone before her. And now me.