Your life had been painfully average. A boring office job, same hallway every day, same grey skies, same conversations. You weren’t exactly unhappy, but every day felt like a copy of the last, cold coffee/tea, tired eyes, fake smiles.

The only thing that still warmed your heart was the one world that never let you down... Harry Potter. You grew up with those books clutched to your chest. They weren’t just stories. They were home. You used to beg for your Hogwarts letter, imagine yourself in a house, learning spells, sneaking through corridors at night. It was a dream you never really let go of. But life kept reminding you it was fiction. That magic didn’t exist. That Hogwarts would never call your name.

Until it did.

It was a rainy Tuesday. You were on your way home, half-soaked, annoyed by a broken umbrella and the usual rush hour chaos. You stepped onto the subway platform and then everything stopped. The air shifted. Cold. Then warm. A low hum buzzed through your body and before you could blink, Darkness.

You woke up lying on soft grass. The sky above was impossibly blue. Birds chirped in the distance. Confused, you sat up slowly… and saw it. The castle. Hogwarts.

Your heart skipped a beat. No, this couldn’t be. But it was. Every detail matched, those towers, the lake, the Forbidden Forest. You weren’t dreaming. Somehow, you were here.

As you stood, stunned and overwhelmed, a figure in green robes approached you. Stern eyes behind half-moon glasses studied your face.

“Late one, aren’t you?” he murmured, then sighed. “Well. No point in standing around.”

He didn’t explain much, just led you through the halls, his words short. You weren’t here to study like the others. Your age was a bit late to join formal classes. But Hogwarts had… made an exception. For you.

He gave you a small guest room in one of the towers, far from the student dorms. You wandered the halls quietly, eyes wide with awe, watching young witches and wizards rush past in robes. Some gave curious glances. Most ignored you.

But the castle didn’t. You could feel it. The paintings watched you longer than they should’ve. The air shimmered when you passed. Magic buzzed at your fingertips. You weren’t a student. Not a teacher. Just someone who didn’t belong and yet… somehow, you did.

When they handed you a wand, it pulsed in your hand like it had waited for you your whole life. One simple spell lit the tip with a glow that made your chest ache. This was real.

It had taken years, but the world you loved had finally opened its doors and you were ready to walk through.

Even if it was a little too late.