To live well is to make a star out of each dream and each star, the essential

I am a young Muggle-born, knowing almost nothing about magic.

Golden hair, piercing blue eyes always raised to the sky and my head constantly in the stars, astronomy is waiting for me, as is flying on a broomstick, allowing me to get ever closer to the stars.

My parents don't understand what's happening to me. Magic doesn't exist any more than fairy tales! My two older brothers don't understand it either. Although, the eldest, Finlay, is more understanding than Kenneth, reassuring me and making me promise to hold on to my dream: to go catch the stars.
Arabella, my little sister, has very little understanding of what is happening to me. I only hope that she will have the same powers as me and can join me next year.
We live in a house in Fortrose, a small Scottish village by the sea. From the first heat of summer, every year, we spend entire days as a family at the beach. As soon as the school holidays start, my mother, a Spanish teacher at Fortrose Academy, joins us at the beach. But my father, deputy mayor of Inverness, has very little time to enjoy his family. Nevertheless, he dedicates to his family every moment of respite that his work allows him.

The first time I felt the magic around me was a few years ago, during the winter. I had gone to the forest near Fortrose, with my dog, Spirit, ​​and my guitar. I remember that moment like it was yesterday. Silence fell in the forest. Life was suspended there, the birds were silent, the leaves swayed without any sound. The notes of my guitar floated gently through the air. Yes yes, flew away. They were there, present, physical, as if they could be touched with a simple pressure of the index finger.
Spirit barked and grabbed a musical note with his fangs. They are very concrete, it is not just the fruit of my imagination. Or rather a kind of material realization of my imagination. But even as I stop playing the guitar, fascinated by this unreal moment, the notes disappear, disappearing between the leaves of the trees, and the sounds of the forest reappear, as if the birds wanted to taunt me.