Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Apparated on the outskirts of a small town where Rosewood Orphanage stood. The night was draped in darkness, raindrops tapping on her pointed hat like the persistent knocks of destiny. A dimly lit sign revealed the name of the place she sought – "Rosewood Orphanage."
As Minerva approached the entrance, a sense of déjà vu settled over her. Delivering acceptance letters to muggleborns was a routine task, yet each encounter was a unique experience. Adjusting her square-shaped glasses and tightening her emerald-green robes, she prepared herself for the mix of emotions that awaited her.
The door to the orphanage creaked as she pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit corridor. The sounds of children's laughter and the distant hum of a television melded in the air. Minerva stepped forward with purpose, her eyes scanning the numbered doors lining the hallway.
Room 17.
She halted in front of the door, her hand poised to knock, when a voice from inside preempted her.
"Come in."
Minerva turned the doorknob and entered. The room was modest, a small bed neatly made, a desk cluttered with books and papers, and a single window revealing a world soaked in rain. At the desk sat a boy, not much older than eleven, with tousled brown hair and eyes that held a spark of curiosity.
"Good evening," Minerva greeted, her voice carrying the warmth only a seasoned educator possessed. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
The boy looked up, his gaze meeting hers. There was an intelligence in those eyes that caught Minerva off guard. It wasn't the usual mixture of curiosity and apprehension she encountered in muggleborns. This boy seemed to already know something she had yet to reveal.
"Not at all, ma'am," he replied with a politeness uncommon for children of his age. "I was just reading."
Minerva's eyes flicked to the books on the desk, noticing titles that ranged from science to literature. She cleared her throat, gathering herself. "I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. I've come with an important letter for you, Mr. Evans."
The boy, Edward Evans, looked at her with an unreadable expression. Minerva extended the letter toward him, watching for the usual mixture of surprise and wonder that accompanied the revelation of a magical world.
To her astonishment, Edward's lips curled into a small, knowing smile as he accepted the letter. It was a smile that spoke of hidden secrets and unspoken truths, a smile that suggested he was aware of something beyond the ordinary.
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," he said, his voice holding a maturity that seemed beyond his years.
"You're quite welcome," Minerva replied, her keen eyes studying him. "You seem remarkably composed for someone receiving their acceptance letter to Hogwarts."
Edward's smile widened, revealing a glimmer of mischief. "I suppose I've been waiting for it."
Minerva raised an eyebrow. Waiting? The children she usually encountered were often astonished, sometimes even disbelieving. This was different.
"Waiting?" she echoed, her curiosity piqued.
Edward leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "Well, not for this letter specifically, but for something... extraordinary."
Minerva felt a shiver run down her spine. There was an air of mystery about this boy, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She decided to proceed cautiously.
"Mr. Evans, Hogwarts is a place of magic. Are you familiar with the term?"
Edward's gaze held a twinkle of amusement. "Oh, I'm familiar, Professor. I've read about it in stories."
Minerva's confusion deepened. "Stories?"
"Yes, stories about a magical world," Edward explained, his tone casual. "But stories can't be real, can they?"
Minerva's eyes narrowed slightly. This was unprecedented. A muggleborn who not only seemed aware of magic but spoke of it as if it were a well-kept secret. She had delivered countless letters, but never had she encountered a reaction like this.
"I assure you, Mr. Evans, magic is very real, and Hogwarts is a place where you'll learn to harness it," she said, trying to gauge his response.
Edward's smile remained, enigmatic and intriguing. "I look forward to it, Professor."
Minerva, though still puzzled, couldn't help but be impressed by the boy's demeanor. There was a wisdom in him, a maturity that belied his years.
"Now, would you like to see a demonstration, Mr. Evans?"
Edward nodded, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Yes, please, I have always wondered..."
Minerva considered him for a moment, then with a flick of her wand, she conjured a small, glowing light that danced above her palm. The room was filled with a warm, magical glow.
Edward's eyes widened, and for the first time, a genuine, unguarded excitement spread across his face. In that moment, Minerva couldn't shake the feeling that life at Hogwarts was about to become all the more interesting.
As she prepared to leave, Minerva turned back to Edward. "Study well, Mr. Evans. Tomorrow, young wizard, we'll hit Diagon Alley for all your magical supplies. Get ready for a shopping spree like no other."
Edward's eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and joy. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall. I can't wait!"
With a final nod, Minerva made her way out of Room 17, leaving behind the promise of magic, mystery, and a Diagon Alley shopping spree. The door closed softly behind her, and she Apparated back into the night, leaving Rosewood Orphanage buzzing with anticipation.
In Room 17, Edward Evans sat with the acceptance letter in hand, the warm glow of magic still lingering. A new chapter had indeed begun, and Hogwarts was about to welcome a student who held the promise of something extraordinary and a shopping adventure that awaited him on the morrow.