She was contemplating all of this as she sat in the courtyard, flipping through her Herbology book. As if her emotions weren't enough of a burden, school was becoming one too. Many people had a good idea of what they wanted to become when they graduated, while she was clueless.
She sighed, closing the book and placing it on the ground. She turned around on the bench she was sitting on, laying down on her back and shutting her eyes. She never really slept anymore, and figured she could do with a small nap. As she layed there, she thought of a poem her father often told her, bringing a small smile to her lips.
Little Lotte let her mind wander
Little Lotte thought: Am I fonder of dolls?
Or of goblins,
Or of riddles?
Those picnics in the attic?
Or of chocolates?
No what I love best, Lotte said,
Is when I'm asleep in my bed,
And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head...
She sighed sadly, not hearing anyone approach her.