Another day at “Hogwarts,” and it felt like I was living through one of the more tedious chapters in a magical textbook. The morning started off with a trek across campus, which in my mind, is like walking through the Forbidden Forest. Instead of dodging trees and creatures, though, I was just weaving through crowds of half-asleep students and dodging a few stray bikes.
First up was “Herbology”—okay, fine, it was actually just biology. But as I sat there, staring at slides of plant cells, I couldn’t help but imagine we were studying something more exotic, like mandrakes or venomous tentacula. The professor droned on about cell division, but in my head, I was learning the best ways to repot a screaming mandrake without fainting. I had to remind myself not to flinch when someone next to me accidentally dropped a pencil; in my imagination, it was like a rogue plant trying to escape.
Next was what I like to think of as “Charms” class, but in reality, it’s just basic calculus. The equations on the board were nothing like the elegant wand movements of a spell, but I imagined they were the secret to casting levitation charms and protection spells. It made the numbers and symbols feel a little more alive, even though in reality, I was just trying to make sense of derivatives. The professor, with his thick glasses and slightly disheveled appearance, could have easily passed for a slightly more eccentric Flitwick. I half-expected him to pull out a wand and demonstrate how to make chalk float in the air.
Lunchtime wasn’t anything special—just a quick bite in the “Great Hall.” I grabbed a sandwich and found a spot at one of the long tables. In my head, it was a feast, of course, with house elves bustling about and plates magically refilling themselves. The conversation around me was a mix of weekend plans and complaints about upcoming assignments, but I pretended it was all talk of Quidditch matches and upcoming exams in magical theory.
The afternoon was spent in what I call “Divination,” which, unfortunately, is just an afternoon seminar on statistics. But instead of predicting the future, I imagined we were interpreting tea leaves and crystal balls, trying to foresee the outcomes of great battles and mysterious prophecies. The professor kept going on about probability distributions, but I was mentally trying to decipher a particularly difficult prophecy about my upcoming exams.
By the time I got back to my dorm, I felt like I’d been through a full day of spellcasting and potion-brewing, even though it was just lectures and notes. I’m starting to think I need to tone down the imagination a bit—it’s almost too easy to get lost in it. But then again, it makes the days a little more interesting, so maybe not.
As I sit here now, writing all this down, I can hear the usual noises of the dorm around me—people talking, someone playing music down the hall, the occasional door slamming. But in my mind, I’m back in Gryffindor Tower, with the fire crackling and the sounds of an owl hooting in the distance.
Tomorrow’s another day, and who knows? Maybe I’ll discover a secret passageway or stumble upon a hidden artifact in the library. Or maybe I’ll just survive another round of lectures. Either way, I’ll keep the magic alive, one day at a time.
