Okay, confession time: I spent most of tonight’s study session in the library just staring at the spine of a book. Not reading it. Just… staring. It was ‘The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1’ and all I could think was, ‘Right, Mum wrote notes in the margins of this when she was my age. Brilliant, world-saving notes, probably.’
Sometimes the castle feels so big, and the shoes I’m supposed to fill feel even bigger. Not gonna lie, it’s a bit mad.
But then I remembered something Dad said once when I was little and worried about a game of backyard Quidditch. He told me, ‘The only person you’ve got to be better than, Hugo, is the person you were yesterday.’
So, new plan. Tomorrow, I’m not opening that book to find my mum’s ghost. I’m opening it to find my own first footnote. Even if it’s just a really good doodle of a Bowtruckle in the corner.
P.S. If anyone finds a friendly ghost who’s good at tutoring Charms, send them my way. No pressure.
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