Who Is Knocking on My Window

The guests, big and small, started arriving one after another.

Thomas burst through the door, panting, holding a beautifully wrapped box. "Happy birthday, Yulian. It's the latest F-16 model! It can fly for three minutes with remote control."

"Thank you, Thomas," Yulian said with a smile as he took the gift. "I love it. This is the best birthday present I've ever received."

"I knew you'd like it! My mom wanted to give you '500 Traps in Middle School Algebra,' but I hid it!"

"Oh, thank goodness," Yulian sighed in relief. "You saved my middle school years."

As they were talking, a girl with short, flaxen hair ran up. "Hey, Yulian."

"Hello, Maggie. Thanks for coming to my birthday party."

"Thank you for the invitation," Maggie said, smiling and swaying her hips. Thomas, standing nearby, couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Here, Yulian, this is my birthday gift for you." She handed him a long, rectangular brown box. "Open it quickly and see if you like it."

Yulian opened the box. It was a Wilson football, with the NFL logo printed on it.

Seeing Yulian looking a bit stunned, Maggie quickly said, "So, do all you boys like this?"

"Yes, Maggie. I really do," Yulian replied. "This is the best gift I've received."

Maggie skipped away, leaving Thomas staring at his friend in surprise. "Yulian, which one is the best gift?"

"Don't dwell on unimportant things, Thomas," Yulian said, patting his shoulder. "Just be happy."

"No wonder you've attracted so many girls in just half a year. By the way, what are you looking at? Are you waiting for someone?" Thomas asked curiously, following Yulian's gaze out the window.

The sky was hazy, and the shadow of a bird quickly flitted by.

"It's nothing, just admiring the scenery outside," Yulian said, retracting his gaze and trying to hide it.

He withdrew his sight. "I just thought the clouds today... their shapes were so much like... Oh, did you see an owl fly by just now?"

Thomas stuffed the last piece of cake from the party into his mouth, licking the plate until it shone like a mirror. Yulian began helping his mother, Clara, clean up the scattered wrapping paper and deflated balloons.

As the guests gradually departed, "Happy birthday, little birthday boy!" Grandma Elodie said, yawning as she poured the remaining juice down the sink. "Don't play that annoying song, 'Losing My Religion,' again!"

"That's R.E.M.!" Yulian protested, but no one paid him any mind.

Just then--

"Tap! Tap! Tap!"

It wasn't a knock, but the sound of pecking on the windowpane!

Everyone in the living room froze.

Outside the window, a large, gray-brown owl was scratching at the glass with its claws, its wings flapping continuously, almost creating a small whirlwind. A thick letter was tied to its leg, sealed with a gleaming red wax stamp.

"Heavens! What kind of raptor is this in the city center?" Clara exclaimed, grabbing a broom to shoo it away. "Close the window quickly, don't let it in!"

"Wait!" Yulian rushed forward. "It... it looks like it's delivering mail!"

At this point, Yulian could clearly see the owl perched outside his home's window, tightly gripping a parchment envelope in its claws.

"Delivering mail?" Father Altair frowned. "Are owls doing same-day delivery now?"

Just then, Grandfather Alphard slowly emerged from behind the sofa, holding a glass of red wine, with that "I knew this would happen" mysterious smile on his face.

"Oh, dear, don't panic," he said slowly in English with a French accent. "This is my pet from Bordeaux, named 'Postman Pierre.' I trained him to deliver birthday cards, you know, for a romantic touch!"

"Your pet?" Grandma Elodie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "When did you start keeping owls? Last week you said you were busy growing roses!"

"I grow roses and I keep owls," Alphard winked. "A French man, you know, multi-talented." Ever since he married Grandma, he'd prided himself on being French, even changing his accent.

He walked quickly to the window and, while his family wasn't looking, subtly flicked his wand under his sleeve. The owl immediately let out a cooperative "Hoo," its eyes instantly becoming vacant and docile, as if it were a truly domesticated pet.

"See, he's so well-behaved!" Alphard pulled open the window, took the letter, and handed it to Yulian. He then took a piece of dry bread from his pocket and fed it to the owl. "Pierre, good job! You'll get extra worms for dinner tonight!"

Then, Alphard pulled out a pre-written reply letter from his pocket and placed it in the owl's claws.

The owl rolled its eyes—it actually rolled its eyes—but still obediently took the bread and flew away with a flutter. Before leaving, it deliberately bumped into a lamppost with a "clang," causing the neighbors to peek out their windows.

"Alright, alright," Alphard clapped his hands and turned to Yulian, winking. "Open your 'card' now. I bet it says something like 'Wishing you a long life.'"

Yulian stifled a laugh and quickly tucked the letter into his pajama pocket.

His mother was still muttering, "Pets these days are getting stranger and stranger... Last time, the neighbor's parrot could recite multiplication tables."

"That's because it overheard little Tommy's tutoring lessons downstairs!" Father explained earnestly.

Only Grandma stared at Alphard, narrowing her eyes. "Are you up to some strange trick again?" After all these decades, she still knew her husband quite well.

Alphard raised his wine glass, looking innocent. "Me? My dear, what trouble could a winemaker get into?"

"Then why did you turn my roast chicken blueberry-flavored last week?"

"Uh... that was a new type of spice."

Everyone present burst into laughter as the guests continued to bid farewell to their hosts.

No one noticed Yulian quietly slip back into his room, his fingers trembling as he tore open the wax seal—while his grandfather stood at the doorway, a sly smile on his lips, and turned back to the people outside, softly reciting, "Oblivio Praesens (Forget This Moment)."

That night, magic quietly descended, while the Muggles continued to live their lives in blissful ignorance.

Yulian felt a unique texture on his fingertips, realizing the envelope was made of heavy parchment.

There was no stamp, and the envelope was addressed in a line of elegant, flowing English written in emerald-green ink: "Mr. Sirius Yulian Black, Apartment 4, Building 3, Wickham Courtyard, Charing Cross Road."

The seal was a wax imprint of a lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle encircling the letter "H."

Yulian carefully broke the seal. The parchment gave a soft rustle, like a contented sigh. A few specks of shimmering gold dust escaped from the seam and vanished in an instant.

Inside was an acceptance letter, also written on parchment in the same elegant script:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, First Class, Order of Merlin, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot)

Dear Mr. Black, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all required books and equipment.

The term begins on September 1st. We shall expect you at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, King's Cross Station, where you will board the Hogwarts Express.

We hope you will be on time.

We await your owl.

Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

Also enclosed was a detailed guide to the school and a shopping list, which included required textbooks, wands, cauldrons, robes, and a variety of other magical supplies, as well as a train ticket.