Dear Diary,

Hi. My name is Harry Potter. And...you're my diary, I guess. Do you talk? Lots of things talk in the Wizarding World. Anyways, today was my birthday. 11th birthday, in fact. A giant named Hagrid came to tell me I was a wizard. At first, I didn't believe him. Honestly, you would've done the same thing if it were you. But he showed me magic, and then I believed him. So, he took me to this place called Diagon Alley. It had LOADS of wizard stuff. I got a wand and robes and everything! Hagrid even got me an owl! I named her Hedwig. Seems like a good fit. I also got you. A diary. I don't know why, Hagrid said it was good to keep your thoughts in one place. Whatever. I told him I'd give it a try. Now I'm back at Privet Drive, eagerly waiting for the day I'll get to go to Hogwarts and marking off the dates on a wall calendar.

You know, I have a weird scar on my forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt. Hagrid said that a mean wizard named Voldemort killed my parents and then tried to kill me. But he couldn't, and that's how I got the scar. Apparently I'm famous, though I still can't figure out exactly why. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always said my parents died in a car crash, but that's not the first lie they've told me.

I'm super excited for Hogwarts, and maybe I'll even make some friends.

Until then,
Harry Potter