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Dear Ms. Krii,

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. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

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Artemis fiddled with her golden train ticket, anxiously glancing up at the platform signs and mouthing the numbers to herself.

"Five... Six... Seven... Oh, Mother!" she groaned, "Please, we're going to be late!" she sledded to a stop, nearly crashing into a young man.

"We're right on time, don't you worry." A lady with skin as white as snow and hair just barely a shade darker placed a hand on her niece's shoulder, stopping her in her place.

She giggled into her free hand and guided her through the bustling station. All around were people rushing to get to their train, some more eager than others.

"Artemis quit being so impatient," the girl's mother, Levana Krii-Hearst, scolded.

She was clinging onto the arm of a severe looking man who seemed hardly interested in chauffeuring his young daughter to the train station. The two of them had looks that could end a life in a mere second.

However, unlike Artemis's parents, her aunt showed no sign of any aggression or seriousness. If anything, she was the complete opposite and reminded Artemis of an elegant swan.

Despite their obvious differences, they all shared one thing in common; Magical blood, just about the purest as blood comes.

"I don't see the platform, Aun--" Artemis couldn't finish her sentence for she had run directly into a large beefy man with a wiry mustache. When he grunted heavily and peered down at Artemis, he reminded her of an overripe plum. "Oh, excuse m--"

"Artemis, what did I just say?" her mother said sharply, "My apologizes for my daughter's carelessness."

The man took one quick look at the magical family in their emerald green robes and curious gleems in their eyes.

He looked as if he had seen the most horrifying ghost possible-- He said nothing and waddled off with his rather petite wife and their beachball of a son, both of them looking equally as petrified.

"Look where you're going." Artemis's mother narrowed her eyes down, "Duchess, do you mind guiding your niece for once?"

"She's just nervous, Levana." Duchess smiled gently, "Come along, we're almost to the platform." Duchess pointed to the large station sign with the number 9 printed on it. Artemis skipped over, her owl bouncing along in his cage.

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