Chapter Text
9:22 AM
On a Saturday
Philadelphia, PA
"Take that, Master Tokage!" Mac kicked into thin air and pretended to karate chop an oppressor that wasn't there. "Hiyah!" Mac yelled, mimicking the sounds blasting out of the small television.
On a sunny Saturday morning in South Philadelphia, young Mac, age eleven, was entertaining himself as his mother wasted away in the kitchen with her booze and lit cigarette in hand. It was the most typical Saturday morning you could find at the McDonald household. Well, it was until the letter came.
There was a rustle and a flutter as a sole envelope fell through the mail slot and landed gently on the floor. "Mail!" Mac yelled as he got up and ran to it. On the envelope read the name "Ronald McDonald"—Mac's name. Woah. Mac never got mail. "Hey-o, Mom! I got a letter!"
No response.
Mac ran into the kitchen, envelope clutched in his fist, and found his mom passed out at the dining table. He took the lit cigarette from between her fingers and dipped it in a glass of water, something he'd had to do too many times. "Guess I'll tell ya later, then," Mac grumbled under his breath. He sat down at one of the seats at the table and opened up the envelope. Inside was a letter that read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Dear Mr. McDonald,
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
"Wizardry? Owl?" Mac laughed nervously. And what in God's name is a "Hogwarts"? He glanced over the parchment, wondering if it was a prank. He didn't even know anyone with the skill to even write well enough to pull off this prank.
What if this letter and magic were real? Would he be a sinner for witchcraft? Certainly God wouldn't put him in this position. No. Mac's eyes widened at the prospect of having magic. Would his mom or dad know? Would they be magical too? It was all too entirely scary and he didn't even know if he could, but there was only one person he wanted to talk to about it: his best friend, Charlie.
Charlie Kelly ran from his mother. "Charlie, come back! Let me brush your hair!" Bonnie Kelly, a small, round woman, chased Charlie with a brush in her hand.
"No, mom! I can brush my own hair!"
"But you don't!"
"But I can!"
While Charlie ran down the steps, a letter, too, arrived for him. Mrs. Kelly stopped chasing her son to pick up the envelope. She read over the name printed on the back.
"Why, Charlie! This letter is for you!"
Charlie stopped in his tracks and looked at his mom. "Me?" He inched closer to her and peered at the envelope in her hand. "Can you read it to me?"
Mrs. Kelly and Charlie made their ways to the couch and Mrs. Kelly opened up the envelope. She pulled out the letter, which looked exactly like the one Mac had gotten, except it read: "Dear Mr. Kelly."
She read the words to him and Charlie's face lit up with excitement and wonder. Mrs. Kelly looked down at her ever so excited son as a memory dawned upon her.
"Charlie, I believe I must find something." She handed the papers to her son and, practically trance-like, made her way up the stairs.
Charlie held up the letter and tried to make out the words listed at the top. They were long and hard words. Charlie couldn't read too good, which frustrated him on great levels, so he usually had his mom, Mac, or a school aide read things aloud to him.
A knock on the door pulled him out of his frustration with words. As he opened the door, a smile grew on his face as he saw Mac standing before him.
"Mac!"
"Hey, Charlie." Mac was nervous. He didn't know what he was allowed to say to Charlie about the letter he got. "Can I come in?"
"Uh, yeah!" Charlie led Mac into the living room. After a pause, Charlie asked, "What's wrong, man?" He noticed his friend seemed a bit off.
"Nothing. Just…" Mac took in a breath. "Do you believe in magic?"
"Magic?" Charlie raised his eyebrows. "Did you get it too?" He held up his piece of parchment.
"The letter? Oh, thank God!" Mac sighed in relief. "I was gonna go crazy if I couldn't talk about it." Mac flopped down onto Charlie's couch. "Do you think it's some sort of prank? Like, it's gotta be! I can't be someone who has magic. I just can't! Witchcraft is a total sin, dude." He sat up and looked into his friend's greenish eyes. "Do you think God would set us up to be sinners?"
Charlie shrugged. He wasn't into all that religious stuff like Mac was. "I dunno. But magic is cool."
Mrs. Kelly came down the stairs with another envelope in her hand. "Charlie! I found what I was looking for!" She spotted her son's friend sitting next to him. "Oh, hello, Mac!" Mac was over so often she thought of him as a second son.
"Mom! He got a magic letter too!"
"Oh!" Mrs. Kelly's eyes glistened. She was glad her Charlie wasn't going to be alone in this. She wouldn't know what to do if he were because she knew Charlie had his issues. Lots of them.
Mac and Charlie scooted on the couch and Mrs. Kelly sat down next to her son. She held up the envelope she had brought down from upstairs. "This, Charlie, is a letter. From your father," Mrs. Kelly said.
"Woah! Your dad?" Mac exclaimed.
Charlie looked at his mother, confusedly. "My… what?" He didn't have a dad. Never did.
Mrs. Kelly never meant to have Charlie. In fact, she tried to abort him. It failed. When she told his father that she was still pregnant, he wrote her a letter. He told her to not open that letter until the child was eleven. Not on his birthday, but on a day he'd get a strange letter. When asked what the letter was, he told her she'd just know. She did.
She pulled the letter out and started to read it to Charlie. The letter spoke of how he was a wizard and started Hogwarts when he, himself, was eleven. It followed with information about a place called Diagon Alley where they could get all the magical supplies needed, and instructions on how to get to Platform 9¾ at the train station. The letter ended with wishes of luck and an apology that he could not be a part of his child's life.
Charlie didn't know what to say. It was a lot for his little brain to take in.
Instead, Mac spoke up. "Mrs. Kelly?" he asked. "I don't think my parents know anything about any of this. Can you help me?"
Mrs. Kelly smiled. "Of course, Mac."