Tiny houses.

Not the concept, the notion, the Platonic ideal of a low-cost low-impact high-efficiency dwelling. That’s great. That’s awesome.

What really imagines my dragons is that in practice about 9 times out of 10 tiny house communities are just a way for rich hipsters to finally fulfil their greatest fantasy:

Harry’s didn’t come on his birthday, it came a week or so before–late July, about the same time the supply lists come every summer, and the OWL and NEWT marks. Hagrid caught up with him on his birthday, and July 31 was the deadline to confirm admission–but July 31 is a totally reasonable deadline to confirm admission for a September 1 start.

It’s a total coincidence that Harry gets to actually read his letter on his birthday. They just come in late July. (Or occasionally a bit later, when the DADA professor is especially pokey with the book list.)