Wanting to do something, but not take out a magic book with Beatrice in the dorm making her bed. I looked over at my locked suitcase and tried to unlock it silently from where I was sat without getting up from my chair. I don’t know how many frustrated minutes had gone by, but Beatrice had finished making her bed and was sullenly lying on it, when I wondered how would I know if I’d unlocked it already.

So I got up and tried to open it and found I could. Did that mean I had successfully silent cast the unlocking spell, or that I hadn’t locked it earlier? Needing a reason for opening the case I grabbed a book at random. It was one of the advanced Hex books that Ma White provided, and after closing the case I tried to silently lock it. On my third cast I saw the lock turn, and on checking it, confirmed it was locked. On my first silent unlocking attempt I saw the lock turn again and could open the case. I had just tripled the number of spells I could cast silently.

Feeling Beatrice’s eyes on me I closed and silently relocked my case and returned to the study desk to get a bit further away from her. As I went to move the chair, I realized I still had the hex book in my hand. Well I had wanted to study, and otherwise it would look odd that I got it from my case. Also it was supposed to have an illusion preventing others from reading which would make them assume it was beyond their ability. The worrying question was would it actually be beyond my ability.

Thankfully, I found out that what I had learned so far, was adequate foundation as though it was definitely more complex, I didn’t think every page was in a different language or worse a blank page without words, as a book close to or beyond the reader’s magic would appear. Hopefully, courtesy of the weekly illusion Ma White cast on all my books that would be how this book would look to Beatrice.

I actually managed to gain another spell. It was one that could hex five different targets with no visible indication. It was primed, but I wasn’t going to cast it with someone watching. I would also need to cast it over and over until I could do so silently, as it really would be far more useful that way.

“Why did Ma White not want us in class?” I was broken from my concentration, and unable to slip back into my book. “I was initially so angry with you coming to see me return, and to find you had taken my bed.”

Beatrice knocked my book while sitting down in the chair beside me. “But you didn’t know it was my bed. You didn’t know I was going to be released today, and Ma White hadn’t expected you to be here.”

“I think Ma White knows exactly where all her students are.” I deflected.

“Nope, she got distracted by a phone call and you got back to the dorm too soon. She arrives and disrupts me from my attack. Not just by reminding me I am your champion, but throwing out some cock and bull about my sister liking you, and you protecting her.”

“I like your sister, and I hope she likes me.” I offered to hopefully confuse her.

“You deliberately went out of your way to bate me in to attacking you. You easily win, but throw the prefect position back in my face. Ma White lets you get away with the power play with a ton of detentions with her, not any of the usual teachers detentions are assigned with. She over punishes me, and makes me your champion. She tells us to get ready for tennis.” Beatrice slams my book closed. “What is happening in the fifth form class that she doesn’t want me to know?”

I reopen the book to the page I was on, as I don’t want this conversation to carry on. I try to ignore her and start trying to learn from the book once more. It is hard to study difficult material at the best of times. Trying to do so while a powerful witch that could hex you into an apple and then eat you, and is currently staring at you in rage of absolute chaotic emotions with zero control, is impossible.

“There’s a quadumvirate. You and the triumvirate control the fifth form and I’m the lame duck prefect with no power. I will destroy you! Four is a weak base to build your power on. All of the upper and lower sixth will support me, and you’ll be surprised how many of the fifth form will follow me. I bet I can get most of the fourth form too.”

“Well it’s good we are planning on using five as the base then.” I throw out before returning to my studying. It seems that has given her pause as she is silent for nearly ten minutes. Then she is busily listing fifth form girls and why they couldn’t be chosen over her.

“It wouldn’t work. There is no other fifth former that Miss MacLeod would allow to be in her power group.” Beatrice finally said. If she expected me to respond she was going to be disappointed.

“Are you going to tell me?” Beatrice asked. I looked at her shook my head and returned to my book. I had to give her credit as she interrupted her own frustrated growl and calmed herself. “You will not get me to attack,‘my queen’. You nearly got me, but I will not fall now I know how good you are, at pissing people off.” The venom that laced naming me her queen was dripping off the words.

I was thankful she had thought such an erroneous idea. I was trying to not answer her and learn magic. I definitely wasn’t ready for her to start attacking me. I didn’t intend to piss her off either, but needs must when the devil drives. We both got startled as the fifth period’s bell rang. Wow fourth period had been short.

“I know my sister would not like you. She knows we fought, and my losing makes her unprotected. Many witches would choose this time to hurt her. Thankfully, they can’t do much more than taunting as she is only eight.” Finally Beatrice was silent having run out of things to say and noticing I wasn’t paying her any attention.

“How did you protect my sister? I don’t think you even know who my sister is.”

“I know Louise, and aside her eyes’ colour, she looks fairly similar to you. Do you know her favorite doll is called Rebecca?”

“Fine, you know my sister.” She glared at me. It looks like I’d wound her up good and proper. “When did you meet her?”

“Come on Beatrice, obviously last night and this morning. I’ve talked to her a few times. Oh, and also last’s night dinner and this morning’s breakfast. We had a nice chat.”

“Lesley, my name's Walker, to you!”

“You can use either of my names, Lesley, Allana or Tegan, Beatrice. I don’t mind.” I countered.

Beatrice’s blue eyes came more alive the angrier she got. I’d managed to annoy her quite a bit. “This is all to distract me. Your lie over the pentumvirate is a delaying tactic. I will connect back with my allies in the fifth form and other years…

“Beatrice, I really would like to read this.” I interrupted the prefect. While she sat back seething,but at least I finally got back to studying. It was nearly ten minutes before she threw her next threat.

“As soon as I have completed my seventh-year trials, I am going to completely destroy you. Enjoy having a champion, while you can, my Queen.” She growled out and then rummaged around in her bookbag and grabbed her own book on hexes. She sat down right next to me and started her own studying. Thankfully I knew that before she has taken her seventh year trials she would have discovered she was more than three years my senior and thus, could not attack me, until I took my own seventh year trials. So, my abject fear could be dialed to a low enough setting that I could act unconcerned. With her mainly looking at her own book I could finally actually study.

It had been eye opening, but logical to discover that witches with birthdays after the winter solstice often were placed back a year. It was done to delay six months on taking the third-year trials. They wouldn’t take them in the prior summer if they were in their second year. It had the added benefit of taking the tests before expected. Beatrice’s birthday was in March, and so while she was two and half years older than Thomas, she was over three years older than Tegan and thus, unable to attack me once my true age, and Tegan’s birthday gets out.

We both glanced at each other’s books while studying. Most of the time when I glanced at her book it showed me foreign text or a blank page. So she was likely studying something way beyond my level. I went back to my own book. Occasionally I had to flip a few pages to get to ones I could read. I found a page full of legible text so I dived in and was lost to the advanced theory for immeasurable time.

“I don’t believe you can read that book.” Beatrice suddenly shot out. I looked over and saw her with her book open for once on a page I could see a smattering of words on. However, I decided to go back to reading mine and pretend I hadn’t heard her. “I knew it! I couldn’t believe that your book showed me nothing but blank pages on your every turn. True, you skipped some to make it look realistic that it was a book you were learning from, but I couldn’t read a single word. You can’t be that much better than me. Say you are better than me at hex magic. I bet you can’t say it.”

“Beatrice you’ve known me for less than a day, how can you know what I do and do not know?”

“I saw you glance at my current page and go back to pretending to read yours. I don’t think you can read either book.”

I glanced over at her book and was about to just choose a few random words, but part of what I read reminded me of something I’d read in my own book a bit earlier and I found myself drawn to work out why. It is a strange feeling when you know you’re on the threshold of working something out, and I grabbed Beatrice’s book to get it closer to me. I don’t know how long I was reading but I had a new hex castable with two words. Well one was a fairly long word. More of the page was available to read so I proceeded to start on learning the next hex, but Beatrice had decided enough was enough, and pulled the book from me.

“You had me fooled for a moment there, but the games up. To you it was a completely blank page…

“Actually, I just learnt from your text book a hex to stop your heart, and was working on learning one to cause arrythmia. Would you like me to bisect your heart with a single hex?” I countered, while cutting her off. I wanted to get her book back as I knew I could learn that hex. Most of what I’d found legible in my book was just theory, and a hex being available was like a gold nugget needing to be mined to strengthen me.

Beatrice scoffed at my riposte and replied. “I notice it’s convenient as no one is going to allow you to cast that hex at them and thus not provable.”

“Can’t you see any words on the page to know it is dealing with hexing the heart?” Then seeing something from the corner of my eye I crossed to one of the windows and opened it.

“Well sure, but to learn a spell in less than five minutes is ridiculous. You haven’t even practiced casting it and want me to believe you can go straight from theory to mastery without any practice.”

I was only half listening as I was looking to see another of what I’d seen before. Finally seeing one I not quite yelled. “Schism Myocardiocytes!” While looking at and miming slicing with my arm the dove flying over sundial lawn. The dove fell below the edge of sixth form terrace, presumably to the sundial lawn.

Beatrice didn’t look impressed, when I turned after closing the window. “I can silent cast a stunning spell while pretending to cast a spell too.” I couldn’t really use the argument that I couldn’t, to fight her downgrading of what I was so chuffed to have done. Heck, I hadn’t learned a stunning spell to vocally cast yet.

“Fine let’s head to the tennis pavilion and come back up across the lawn and you can try to wake the dove back up.” I replied and after grabbing a blade from my suitcase headed back to the fire-escape. I initially hadn’t been thinking, but then decided it might actually be a good way for us to bond. It would be a thing of legends. From enemy to friend by choosing to deliberately break the rules together. It was how I planned to sell it to the headmistress if she ever found out, anyway.

Beatrice followed and said nothing. She watched me placing blood on the door and doorframe and stepped back when I did. I managed to keep from spilling blood on my clothes this time, and cast the unlocking spell silently after speaking the rhyme for bypassing the alarm. She followed me through the opened door and quietly followed me down the stairs. I don’t think she thought it odd I checked the door was locked after that silent cast I made to re-lock it. She watched the fire-escape door turn back into the pavilion wall, and started to try to work out how to get the door back. I jumped down off the sheltered porch and crossed the two lawn tennis courts that were closest to the pavilion. The hard clay courts and last lawn court were beyond me to the left as I exited the gate in the mesh fence to the path along the bottom of sundial lawn.

I kept walking up sundial lawn trying to go to where I guessed the dove would have fallen. I heard Beatrice running behind to catch up. Once she had followed me in my hunt for a while, and just a bit before she was obviously getting ready to say something, I finally found the dove. It was closer to the wall than I had expected, and the pale brown plumage camouflaged well on the light brown stones of the path that bordered the top of the lawn along the bottom of the retaining wall of the sixth form terrace it had ended up falling on.

“You’ve been to this school before. You must spend your holidays here. You’re related to the headmistress.” Were the words Beatrice chose to wield at me having been proven wrong in me hitting the dove with a spell.

“Your bird. Aren’t you going to confirm I didn’t stun it?” I asked to avoid what she had said. I wasn’t supposed to let on that I was familiar with the school. I guess knowing how to bypass the alarms didn’t lend itself to being a new student and even admitting the headmistress clued me in on how to beat them left a different set of questions to answer. I ignored Beatrice just stepping away from the dove.

Beatrice eventually started casting spells at the bird. After the first one where I learned how to wake something up, I had no clue what she was casting. “The heart is split in two.” She finally mumbled looking at me with a bit of awe and fear.

“Willing to accept now that I can just learn a spell.” I asked glad to be vindicated.

“You probably already knew the spell…

I felt like banging my head against the retaining wall, better yet banging Beatrice’s head against the retaining wall. “Beatrice, even if that was the case. It proves I could read your book doesn’t it?” I turned and headed back toward the right of the lawn and the steps needed to get back to the level of the manor house.

“Where are you going?” Beatrice asked jogging back up to me again.

“Back to the dorm. I was studying. Before this…” I floundered a bit on being unsure what to describe this as.

“Why not go back up the fire-escape?”

“It’s one way.” I answered as if I was sure for all the world it was. I’m a firm believer in never admitting to being unsure of something.

“This is the sixth form terrace…

“You told me that the other day. I’m of the opinion, what the sixth form doesn’t know, won’t kill them. Unless it does, in which case, it was a moot point regardless.” I was in a rather flippant mood. Until she had told me the dove’s heart was split in two, I’d been wondering what we would find. That included if the dove would even be there.

Prior to Beatrice questioning my ability to go from theory to casting a spell with no practice, I’d had no doubt that this was how magic was learnt. It was why I’d more or less shouted the spell. I wanted to make damn sure it worked first time, as all my earlier hexes had. Now doubt had been added as a variable in learning to cast spells. I could have done without it.

Misses White threw her hands up in the air as she watched the two of us cross behind her office. I waved, and Beatrice just got a gob smacked expression. She was still bemused as I went into the third-year girls’ dorm first and cleaned my blood stains up before returning to our Seagull dorm.

I didn’t get any more studying time though; as the lunch bell rang when I gave up getting her book and sat down to study my own book. Beatrice had refused to let me look at her book. I was this close to learning the arrhythmia hex. For some reason, my offering her that explanation caused her to be more adamant to not let me read it. Further, saying I needed it for just a couple of minutes, caused her to blood lock it away in one of her drawers.

I hadn’t really thought about it, but I guess the reason the girls split sports between the first two years on Monday and Friday afternoons and the older members of high school on Wednesdays was due to the culling, and whatever caused the larger drop in sixth form girls’ attendance verses the number of returning boys. Thomas a third-year boy didn’t have sports on Wednesday afternoons. In the summer he played cricket with the first and second formers on Monday and Friday.

However, in the boys’ forms this made sense as with lower sixth and fifth repeat added together being about half the size of fifth form, and upper sixth about half again. You had two and three quarters of a form in one group and three forms worth of boys in the other. Whereas amongst the girls, firstly there was no fifth repeat, and secondly most of the lower and upper sixth hadn’t shown up to play tennis. The fact the number of sixth form girls was drastically lower than sixth form boys just marginalized the fraction even further. Add in the culling causing fourth and fifth form both being half the size of the other three, and you got two forms worth of girls in each of the groups they were split into, to play tennis.

Thus I could be mistaken for a fifth former while going to my correct third form class. Something which wouldn’t have been possible if I was still a boy. I then told myself it wouldn’t have been necessary if I’d managed to remain a boy.

I ran and swung my racket backhand and launched another tennis ball well over Coach Davis and into the mesh net fence that surrounded the six hard clay tennis courts. When I say this I make it sound that this was as bad as I’d done before.

This was actually not as bad. More often than not when I’d been doing forehand swings the ball went over the about twelve-foot-high net fence. It sounds even worse when I admit there was a second tennis court behind the coach before that net fence too.

I was zero for about thirty if you included both of my backhand and forehand efforts. Thankfully she hadn’t had me show my serve yet, as I don’t have one. Hopefully my evaluation of volleys would be better. I ran once more and over corrected limiting the power in my backhand swing so the ball didn’t clear the first low net it was supposed to go over. It seems I could clear two tennis court nets or none. My competitor just needed to play on the next court and I might be able to hit the ball a second time before I lose a point.

“No, No, No! Get off my court!” I ran to the side where the rest of the pentumvirate stood. Beatrice had accepted when she was hi-jacked at lunch. Can you say de-ja-vu? Her lunch press-ganging mimicked my dinner drafting in all, but food offered and the boy and matron distractions. Oh, and Beatrice didn’t get kicked out before eating too.

“At long last, something you’re terrible at, Tegan.” Beatrice offered as I came to stand beside her. She’d actually surprised the other girls calling me Tegan when they returned to the dorm and found us appearing to apparently be, best friends.

I decided to be mature and stuck my tongue out at her.“Hey, I’ve never played tennis before.” I added to aid in not seeming childish.

“What sport did you play?” Susan asked.

“Cricket, silly mid-off or first slip…” I sort of stalled my answer as I realized what I’d said, and the incredulous looks I was getting. “I was a tomboy, I couldn’t believe Ma White when she said they won’t let me play cricket.”

“Was! I think not only that ‘was’ is the wrong tense, but that you’re the biggest tomboy I’ve ever met. You’re not even wearing any make-up.” Susan rounded on me.

“… and yet she still looks that pretty!” Ashley said. “With a little effort you could turn the head of any boy.”

“What the fuck! No, thank, you!” I retorted angrily.

“You know, if you wore an engagement ring…

“Why the hell would I do that.” I interrupted Valerie. Could this conversation get any worse? Thankfully, Coach Davis cleared her throat and we fell back into line.

“You know what, why don’t the five of you take court seven. You can play doubles with the better duo handicapped with the vulgar one. Perhaps you could teach her tennis and how a young lady is supposed to act. Either one works for me.” Coach Davis told the five of us before moving on to team up some other girls.

“I don’t think she likes me.” I suggested after making sure the coach was well out of earshot.

“You!” Susan exclaimed. “We’re the ones that got saddled with you!”

“Yep, I wonder what we ever did to her.” Beatrice opined. Then quickly got away from my half-swung racket at her arse.

Two hours later and I had a weak second serve that almost anyone could return. However, at least it was mostly in play. I had a forehand and forehand volley that both nearly beat a coin toss in the odds of staying in play. I had next to no backhand worth mentioning except its volley that surprised me in how nearly good it was, and over five hundred bruises, grazes and scrapes. My tennis uniform had long left the colour white behind it. Who the hell decided that tennis would be played wearing this colour?

I’d also discovered that court seven was the ugly step child of the tennis courts. It was on its own with woods on three sides of it to steal the tennis balls that I could easily lob over the twelve or so foot nets. My argument that there were holes in the net fell on deaf ears, as apparently none of my shots were low enough to go through the holes in the old net. I saw two go through the holes but the other four refused to agree with me. And yes I know a net has holes. That was the first tease I’d got for saying it, but some of the holes are bigger than a tennis ball because the old tatty nets strung over tottering poles need to be replaced with new fine mesh fence nets on vertical posts like the other courts have. Heck even the metal mesh fence of courts eight and nine would be a huge upgrade.

There were a nice set of six hard courts in two rows of three that the coach mainly spent her time coaching the privileged players on.Two lawn courts numbered eight and nine, over beside the pavilion, and then ‘court seven’. For all it was supposedly a lawn court, either it got fed up of me crashing into it and decided to hit back like it was made of rock, or my tenderized flesh, after getting bruises on top of bruises became over sensitive to the lawn and caused the later hits to hurt so hard.

“So, Tegan, I think you were beginning to get the hang of it at the end.” Beatrice offered way too kindly as the summary of my last two hours.

“Are you sure she was playing tennis?” Susan offered.

“Hell you should know. That was what you were supposed to teach me.” I riposted.

“I actually asked them to aid in making you a lady or teach you tennis.” Coach Davis was suddenly beside me. Where the heck did she arrive from? “Well your tennis racket is still strung, and in one piece, and your diction is... Well let’s not expect miracles.” She opined.

Hmmph! “Do you think a lady would be dressed as I am?” I countered the coach as I was not going to let it go, that they had succeeded making me a lady.

Ashley decided to throw in her ‘tuppence’. “A lady would know when she needed to get changed.”

Turning on Ashley I replied. “I think anyone would know that how I’m currently attired, is not acceptable.”

“Well considering what they had to work with, I will allow them getting you halfway to a lady and halfway to learning tennis.” Coach Davis said and waltzed off before I could reply to that… that… slander. I stood with mouth slightly opened gob-smacked.

She was way beyond earshot before I finally yelled after her. “I’ll never be halfway to a fucking lady!” Then what I’d said hit me, and I looked at my four new 'friends' to see they’d hopefully not been listening and paying attention. Judging by the looks on their faces I was going to have to count myself zero for four on that hope.

“How do you half fuck?” Beatrice inquired.

Susan couldn’t leave it alone. “I thought it was tennis we were supposed to be teaching her.”

“We didn’t have hay.” Valerie said causing all of us to look at her incredulously.

“What!” Ashley shrieked for all of our benefit.

“How to half fuck,” was Valerie’s eloquent reply.

I couldn’t help it. Valerie was always so quiet prim and proper and yet she said ‘fuck’ as if it was a perfectly acceptable and polite word to say. There was none of the obvious glee kids put in to emphasis saying a bad word. “What do half fucking and hay have to do with each other?” I asked, because even though it was likely a step into the train wreck, I couldn’t stop myself.

“Well duh, they don’t, thus half fucking.” Valerie looked around at the four of us looking at her like she was mad. “Your tennis uniform is coated in grass stains and there is no hay. If you’d been rolling in the hay you would have been fucking. Ergo rolling without hay, half fucking.”

Valerie just looked at us, and I’m sure the other three were waiting for her to laugh. Ashley lost it first, but Beatrice and I were right behind her laughing too, and then I discovered Susan laughed like a drain pipe when she lost it. That is when she loses control; the laugh competes with the needed intake of the next breath. Causing a raspy suction of attempted in taken air, while the lungs are violently contracting.

That noise caused us to laugh even more; ‘till we all probably sounded that death by laughter could be in the cards. Valerie was laughing but the four of us were likely questioning if she was laughing because we were, or because of saying an odd joke without seeming to be trying to be funny.

“Hey Beatrice,” I called after getting a bit of control over my laughing. “Did you know I’ve been half fucked?”

“No Tegan, you are definitely, completely fucked.” Beatrice replied. Well thank you! I was thinking of counting you as a friend too.

Ashley chimed in. “Not until we find some hay.”