"I've had enough trouble for a lifetime" - Harry Potter. (Not touching that) 30 YEARS LATER Jacob’s stationery shop was not built to hold this many people. The space was narrow, almost claustrophobic, with shelves pressed tightly against each wall and books stacked far beyond what seemed structurally safe. Old parchment, fresh ink, and dust hung in the air, forming a scent that clung to everything. Towers of second-hand books leaned dangerously, as though the entire place might collapse if someone reached too carelessly. No one seemed concerned. Students crowded every inch—arguing over titles, stretching across one another, competing with a quiet desperation that came from knowing there wouldn’t be enough for everyone. It wasn’t chaos exactly. It was controlled scarcity. And at the center of it all was Jacob. He moved through the shop with practiced ease, slipping between bodies without touching them, pulling books from impossible stacks, catching falling piles before the...