Dear Muggle #5683198670,

I apologize in advance that this is not 1. your acceptance letter that’s 2. arriving by carrier owl. This is your overdue intervention on your struggle from one muggle to another. Yes, together we destroyed the Sorcerer’s Stone, opened the Chamber of Secrets, freed the prisoner of Azkaban, portkey’d the Goblet of Fire, formed the Order of the Phoenix, mourned the Half-Blood Prince and collected the Deathly Hallows. Can you believe we’ve waited over a decade already? I know, I know. High school wasn’t all that wonderful (don’t even get me started on middle school) and a pet owl would have been more exhilarating compared to a pet fish growing up, but we need to accept that it just wasn’t in The Prophecy or Trelawney’s tarot cards for us. There is no Hogwarts Letter coming and you need to decide on a muggle career path already.

Now I’m not delusional, alright? I’m not saying the Wizarding World isn’t real, don’t worry! I know, however, what I’m asking you to do is no simple task. I’m sure it would be easier to obliviate your childhood memories of Harry Potter rather than force you to conclude this marks another term you will not be entering Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. If you’re as indecisive as myself, you should be happy you never have to sit on a wooden stool in front of thousands of students while having a panic attack hysterically sobbing to the Sorting Hat about what House you should join. Good luck thinking you could be away from your parents for that long as an 11-year-old when I’m sure you didn’t like sleeping over someone else’s house for even a night at that age.

Let’s be honest though, if you received your letter now, it would be pretty unusual if your 21-year-old self was sitting in a first-year classroom learning the same material as an 11-year-old. Sidenote: I barely see your clown feet on a two-foot penny board now, so I can’t imagine seeing your butt on a three-foot broomstick (It’s okay, you were afraid of heights three quarters of your childhood anyway, remember?). Think about this for a second also: I’m sure you’re annoyed quickly when your pen runs out of ink so would you have really sat in each subject dipping your quill in ink at least two hundred times every day whilst praying you don’t spill anything on your parchment or cloak? Yeah, okay. There’s no Tide To Go, honey. Have fun trying to remove that stain without magic. I mean you could borrow a time turner from McGonagall and just go back in time to preve Nope, don’t even think about it.

Hogwarts will always be your real childhood home, it’s true. Whenever you are feeling down or defeated, the portals to the other side sitting on your dusty bookshelf are waiting to be opened. When you’re laying under the sheets with the first novel that started it all, you’ll again wish Lumos worked as well as the flashlight on your cell phone. The real magic is in the pages of those books though, so don’t forget to pass on the legacy of our familiar world onto the next generation.

Sincerely,

Muggle #0000000001