Not From Any Book

Wednesday. A student at the gate asked me today which book I was from. She meant it kindly. She thought I might be famous.

I am not from a book. Nor a film, nor a stage play, nor the back of a cereal box. The Headmaster, his castle, his sanctum and the whole dreadful business of the formula were made up from scratch by the castle’s own builders, and so, in a manner of speaking, was I.

Which means you need not have read anything to beat me. You need not know any famous wizard’s spells. If you love wizards of any sort, from the old ones with grey beards to the ones in tall pointed hats, you will feel at home; and if you have never opened a book about magic in your life, you will be just as welcome, which I find unreasonable.

She said she would look me up anyway. I told her to look in the margins.