Hatchetfield.

Hatchetfield Hogwarts

Chapter Notes: I want to start this chapter off with a big old FUCK YOU To JK Rowling, She is an awful person and I hate her. This is why this is going to follow more of the A Very Potter Musical logic.

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John McNamara- a ten-year-old with shoulder-length caramel-colored hair and bright blue eyes- bounced excitedly in his bed, trying to stay quiet as his eyes flickered between the window on the wall parallel to the base of his bed and the clock next to his bed. There were only a few minutes left. Just a few minutes until he'd be eleven. And once he was eleven, he could get his acceptance letter. His eyes were locked onto the window when the door to his bedroom slowly opened, draping the room in light from the hallway as Johns' head spun around to face his visitor.

"John?" The invader asked as John came to terms with being caught. Standing in the doorway in a green flannel shirt and loose-fitting grey slacks, black hair pulled loosely behind the mans' ears and green eyes set on John was Wilbur Cross, Johns' father.

"Hi, Dad," John said quietly, figuring he was probably in trouble as it was 11:59 and he was supposed to be asleep at least two hours ago.

"What are you still doing up?" Wilbur asked, fighting back a yawn as he came further into the room until he could sit down at the end of Johns' bed. John looked between the window and the clock, not saying anything at first as he realized how silly it would sound. Luckily, Wilbur seemed to put it together and let out a soft 'ahh' as he realized what it was.

"You know, John. The owls' aren't gonna be here the minute you turn eleven. They normally ship out the night before a wizard turns eleven, so they're well-rested when they get the letter," Wilbur explained. John nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap before looking back up at his dad as he spoke.

"I know. I was just hoping..." John trailed off and looked over at the window again.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I did the same thing when I was your age," Wilbur said a smile.

"You did?" John asked, finding that a little hard to believe as Wilbur seemed so... well, put together. John couldn't imagine Wilbur sitting up in his bed, waiting anxiously for a letter to arrive.

"Yeah, really. I was so nervous. I didn't sleep at all that first time," Wilbur told him. John mulled that over in his head until Wilbur kept talking. "You, however, will not be doing that. You will be going to sleep so you have the energy to celebrate your birthday and your letter arriving tomorrow."

"What-? But, dad," John whined.

"No butts except yours in bed. Asleep," Wilbur said. John went to whine when something tapped at Johns' window. John glanced up at Wilbur curiously before looking at his window as something tapped at it again. Curious, John got up and crossed the room, Wilbur on his heels. Whatever it was tapped at the window a third time and Wilbur opened the window, revealing a large black Owl that was perched on the windowsill, some paper tied to his leg.

"It's an owl," John pointed out.

"I know, John," Wilbur said, not sounding irritated, but more amused.

"I thought you said there'd be now owls til morning," John once again pointed out.

"Well... I've been wrong before," Wilbur said. The owl- seemingly tired of waiting outside- flittered in and landed on Johns' shoulder, making him stumble slightly at the sudden two and a half pounds of feathers and wings landed on him. John reached up a hand to pet the owl as he eyed the letters on the birds' leg. One of them had Wilburs' name written in calligraphy and the other had Johns' name written in similar handwriting and was sealed with the Hogwarts crest.