Harry always felt out of place in the world. His days were filled with routine—school, chores, and the constant feeling that something was missing. The only thing that kept him company was his wild imagination, which he poured into stories scribbled on crumpled paper. As the clock ticked, he wondered if his life would ever change.

Harry picked up the envelope, his name written in exquisite emerald ink. He turned it over, fingers trembling, and broke the seal. Inside, a letter invited him to a place called Hogwarts, declaring he was a wizard. His eyes widened with disbelief as he read the words aloud: "You have been accepted to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..."

Professor McGonagall: Stern, wise, and kind, she is Hogwarts’ Deputy Headmistress. "Harry, your parents were both remarkable wizards. The world you belong to has been waiting for you," Harry's heart pounded. "But... I can't be a wizard. I'm just... me," he whispered. "Every great wizard started out thinking the same," Professor McGonagall replied, a gentle smile on her lips.

Harry stared at his wand, hesitating. He took a deep breath and pointed it at a dusty photo frame. To his amazement, sparks shot out, and the frame began to hover. "I did it! I really did it!" he shouted, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.

Harry[/@ch_1]'s feet, and a barn owl waits patiently atop the fence.] Harry hugged his aunt goodbye, her eyes moist despite herself. For the first time in his life, he felt important—chosen for something extraordinary. "I'll write to you," he promised, voice trembling with excitement and nerves.

Harry stepped onto the train, heart hammering, ready for a world of magic, friendship, and adventure. He pressed his forehead to the window, watching his old life fade into the distance. Whatever happened next, he knew he was finally where he belonged.