Joshi Seth

Backstory

I was born in Tamil Nadu, and most of my early childhood was spent running around my grandparents’ house, listening to their stories and pretending every shadow was some ancient creature waiting to be discovered. My parents are muggles, both busy people who worked long hours, but they always made time for books, school and keeping our culture close. Life was loud, warm and familiar.

When I was eight, we moved to Canada. It was a huge shift. New language, new weather, new everything. I didn’t know anyone, so I spent a lot of time reading or writing my own stories. I guess I’ve always lived a little inside my imagination. It made the homesickness easier.

Looking back, the magic signs were definitely there. A glass would crack when I got irritated. Pages would turn on their own when I was really into a book. Once, when I was stressed, all the lights in the house blinked so fast my parents thought the power grid had exploded. I had no idea any of that meant anything. I just assumed Canada had weird electricity.

I didn’t grow up hearing about Hogwarts. No one in my family has magic, so none of us knew I was supposed to get some fancy letter at eleven. Eleven came and went. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen too. Nothing. I figured the world was normal and I was just… odd.

Then this September, right after I turned fifteen, everything changed.

I woke up to the sound of our doorbell ringing nonstop. My dad opened the door and nearly had a heart attack because a Ministry official was standing there in full wizard robes, completely out of breath, holding a stack of papers and apologizing like the world was ending. Apparently my name had been lost in their system for years. My Hogwarts letter had been sitting in some forgotten file while I went around accidentally breaking physics.

My parents didn’t believe a single word at first. My mom thought it was a prank. My dad kept asking for ID like this man was trying to sell us internet plans. It took a couple small magic demonstrations, two cups of tea, and a very long explanation before my parents finally accepted that yes, magic exists, and yes, their daughter is part of it.

Arriving at Hogwarts as a fifteen-year-old first year was wild. Everyone else had grown up waiting for this moment. Some even had siblings who came before them. I walked in having no clue what classes even existed or how to hold a wand properly. I felt behind, but also excited in a way I’ve never felt before.

When I sat on the stool for the Sorting Ceremony, the Sorting Hat barely had to think. It said my curiosity, stubborn focus and love for learning made me a clear Ravenclaw. I didn’t argue.

Now I’m catching up on years of magical education, slowly finding my place, and finally understanding why I always felt like there was something more to the world. It turns out the “more” was magic. And apparently it’s been following me since I was a kid.

Even if I got here late, I’m here now. And honestly, it feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.