Everywhere, Everything

i. The Letter

    After receiving her letter of admission to Hogwarts and staring at it for hours on end for two whole days, Tigerlily finally forced herself to rip the envelope open and read it.

    'Dear Ms. Creevey, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. A member of our faculty will be visiting you soon to provide further information and confirm your attendance by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall.'

    But she still couldn't wrap her head around it. She flipped the torn envelope over and smoothed the paper with her fingers to reread the words on emerald ink. It was her address. Her ridiculously accurate address. The longer she looked at it, the less convincing she needed of the fact that it was real. No one from school knew where she lived — because she made a point out of avoiding the mention of living on a farm in fear of being made fun of — and therefore would not know that her bedroom was, in fact, the one next to the oak tree.

    Tigerlily found herself looking over the supply list included with her letter several times a day after opening it.

    A cauldron (would a big pot suffice?), phials, a telescope, brass scales, many books about topics that would've looked made up to anyone she knew, cloaks and robes and garments made out of 'dragon hide', and most importantly, a wand.

    This last item troubled her quite a lot. Magic was a completely foreign concept to her, and those tricks she'd managed over the years through her outbursts had been performed without a wand, so did she truly need it? She reached the conclusion that if the school required her to have one, she might as well get it. But where from?

    One night, during dinner, she passed her dad the letter.

    His eyes widened, his brows furrowed, and his lips pursed several times while he scanned the sheets of parchment. When he finally looked up again, Tigerlily met his gaze with a cautious smile. Her father sighed and rubbed his jaw.

    "I'm sorry, dad," Tigerlily said quietly, "I know it all sounds mad, but if this school is real, I would love to go. But I need those supplies — I was hoping you might know where we could get them."

    "I'm afraid I don't, my love," he admitted, handing Tigerlily her letter back. "But I'm sure we can figure it out. Besides, someone's supposed to come and explain these things to us. Don't stress too much about it, alright?"

    Tigerlily sighed and nodded, folding the envelope carefully and stuffing it in one of her pockets.

❊

    The next day, Tigerlily was woken up by her father's soft voice and her brothers' not-so-soft jumping on her bed.

    "Lily! Get up, get up!" cried Dennis in between giggles. He'd started calling her 'Lily' after struggling to pronounce her whole name some years prior, and the nickname stuck, no matter how many times Tigerlily corrected him.

    "Come on, Tiger, get dressed." Her father insisted, squeezing her shoulder over the covers. "There's someone here to see you,"

    "See me?" Tigerlily mumbled, frowning. "What for? It's too early — ouch, Colin, that was my foot!"

    Colin and Dennis paid no mind to her complaints and kept jumping on her bed, stopping only when their father carried them out of the room.

    "Hurry up, bunny, he's been waiting for a bit," he called over his shoulder.