Harry Potter: My Magical Life v3.4

[SYSTEM PANEL]

Timeline Era: Ancestors (1905)

Hogwarts House: Unsorted

School Year: 1

Pocket Money: 12 Galleons

Proficiencies:

Charm / Appeal: 5

Current Affection (Albus Dumbledore): 20 (Acquaintance)

Core Goal: Prepare to meet Dumbledore in London in 7 days to purchase Hogwarts supplies and begin your first term.

The wet hush of a July rainstorm wraps around the tiny attic room you call home at the Bideford Orphanage, a creaky stone structure tucked between rolling Devon hills and the briny crash of the Celtic Sea.

At 11 years old, you’ve always felt like a ghost in the orphanage’s creaking halls—too quiet, too odd, the kid who could never quite explain why the dinner plates would levitate off the table when the matron yelled at you for tracking mud in, or why every stray cat within three miles would curl up on your windowsill at night, even the feral ones that hissed at every other orphan.

You’re cross-legged on your threadbare straw mattress, darning the last torn page of your only prized possession: a tattered copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland that you fished out of a vicar’s trash bin two years prior.

The candle on your crate-side table sputters, gilding the edges of the rain streaks running down your only window, when you hear it: a sharp, insistent tap-tap-tap that’s not the rain.

You look up, and there’s a tawny owl as big as a small dog, its amber eyes glinting in the candlelight, clutching a crinkled yellow envelope in its talons.

The envelope is sealed with a thick wax stamp emblazoned with four creatures: a lion, a snake, a badger, and a raven, circling a large, swirling H.

You fumble with the latch on the window, swinging it open just wide enough for the owl to hop onto your crate, drop the envelope at your feet, and then take off into the rain before you can even offer it a crumb of bread.

You tear open the envelope, your fingers shaking, and pull out a heavy sheet of cream parchment, the ink swirling as if it’s moving on its own.The letter reads:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Armando Dippet

Dear Mr. / Ms. [Your Last Name],

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,

Albus Dumbledore

Deputy Headmaster & Transfiguration Professor

Beneath that is a list of supplies: three sets of plain work robes, one winter cloak, a wand, a cauldron (pewter, standard size 2), a set of glass or crystal phials, a brass scale, and first-year textbooks for Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

You snort, assuming it’s a prank from the older boys who’ve teased you for years about being a “witch” for your odd habits.

You crumple the letter in your fist, ready to toss it into the fireplace, when you hear the creak of the garden gate below your window, and a soft male voice calling your name.

You creep to the window, peering out through the rain, and see a young man standing in the garden, his auburn hair streaked with a few early strands of silver, half-moon spectacles perched on the end of his nose, wearing a sweeping indigo robe that glows faintly at the cuffs even in the rain.

He’s holding an umbrella that looks like it’s carved from an oak tree, and when he lifts his head to meet your gaze, he smiles, a warm, crinkling smile that makes your chest feel light, like all the tension you’ve carried for years is melting.

You rush down the creaky stairs, pulling open the front door before the matron can even yell at you for tracking water inside, and the man holds out his hand.

“I’m Albus Dumbledore,” he says, his voice soft like old paper, “I wrote that letter.I’m here to make sure you understand none of this is a prank.Magic is real, and you, my dear, are a witch.You belong at Hogwarts.”

He steps inside, brushing rain off his shoulders, and sits with you at the orphanage’s empty kitchen table, explaining everything: the wizarding world hidden from Muggles, Hogwarts, the way your little accidental outbursts of magic were signs you were born with the ability to cast spells, create potions, and learn all the secrets of the ancient school.

He tells you that Armando Dippet, the headmaster, asked him to track down Muggle-born students across the country who’d never had anyone explain their magic to them, that you’re not alone.

He pulls a worn leather pouch from his robe, setting it on the table, and it clinks softly when it lands.

“Your family, though they could not be here to raise you, left a small fortune in wizarding bank Gringotts that’s been set aside for your education,” he explains, tapping the pouch.

“There’s 12 Galleons in there, enough to buy all your supplies and have a little left over for sweets or any extra books you might want.

I’ll meet you at Charing Cross Station in London next Saturday, the 12th of August, and we’ll go to Diagon Alley together to get everything you need.

You have a full week to wrap up any affairs here, to pack anything you want to bring with you to Hogwarts—your old books, trinkets, anything that feels like home.No one will stop you from bringing the things that matter.

”

The matron comes into the kitchen, squinting at Dumbledore, and he waves a hand gently, and she smiles, nods, and turns to walk back up to her room, as if she’s completely fine with a strange man in her kitchen at 9 o’clock at night.

“Simple charm,” Dumbledore says, winking, “she’ll think I’m a distant relative come to take you to boarding school.Everything is arranged.All you have to do is decide what you want to do with your week before we leave.”