Jessica Burton

Title: “A Howler From a Hogwarts Mom: Why I’ve Got Beef with Legacy” Let me preface this motherly dispatch by saying: we were so excited. So. Excited. Hogwarts Legacy was supposed to be the dream—the magical portal where my kids could live out the adventures I used to imagine while rereading Goblet of Fire for the 47th time with a flashlight under the covers. And at first? It was everything we hoped for. Beautiful castle. Flying brooms. The Sorting Hat! My little ones were giggling and gasping like it was Christmas at the Burrow. And then—THEN—without so much as a content warning or wizardly whisper, in strolls a character with a very modern ideological agenda tucked into their spellbook. Now listen—I teach my kids to love and respect everyone. We talk about kindness. We talk about compassion. We’ve got neighbors from all walks of life and I pray they always feel safe and loved around us. But I also believe childhood should be a safe place to grow emotionally and spiritually without being yanked into adult discussions before they’re ready. I’m a mom, not a Ministry of Magic interrogator. And explaining gender identity because a video game decided to toss in modern politics disguised as fantasy? Not exactly the evening I had planned while my 9-year-old clutched his wand and asked, “Wait… I don’t get it, Mom—what are they supposed to be?” Cue the internal screaming. Cue the panic-parent Googling. Cue the rage-cleaning of the living room. This was supposed to be Hogwarts, not a soapbox. I signed up for Gryffindor courage and chocolate frogs—not unexpected conversations that derail bedtime and leave my kid staring at the ceiling wondering if he is supposed to have a personal identity crisis now. You want to add representation? Fine. Make it an optional side quest. Make it age-appropriate. Make it a choice, not a gotcha moment for unsuspecting families who just wanted to duel some trolls and rescue hippogriffs. To the developers: I wanted to love this game. I wanted to buy the merch, the expansions, the whole Honeydukes cart. But instead, you’ve made this mom feel like she has to read the entire script of every digital game now before letting her kids play—even the ones based on the magical world that once felt so safe. Signed, A very tired, very protective Hogwarts Mom who is putting the game back on the shelf until further notice. P.S. I don’t care how pretty the castle is—next time, include a parental warning charm, or I will send a Howler.