Somewhere out there, there is a quill. Every moment, unbidden, it writes the name of a wizard child as they are born, into a large, ancient, leather-bound book.
Every day Minerva McGonagall consults this ledger, and on the eve of his or her eleventh birthday the child receives their invitation to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
I don’t know who you are. I don’t know how you found this place. I don’t know if you waited, years in vain, for your letter to come. Perhaps you come from a long-line of wizards. Perhaps you don’t know just how special you are. Perhaps you’re like the little boy who, 20 years ago exactly, was lying on a dirt floor-abused and forgotten, making one simple birthday wish.
You deserve to find the quill, you deserve to go to Hogwarts. Did you see it last night? Will you see it tonight? Tomorrow?
Tonight, for the second time, a group of forgotten wizards will hijack the quill and force open the book. They will read their names aloud amongst the worthy and be accepted, at long last, to a home they thought they’d never know.
Are you one of the chosen ones?