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“Living with him is as good as having a maid,” Emma confided.
“Although we had to ban him from our bedroom,” Kaitlyn put in. “He kept sneaking in and tidying up our areas when we weren’t looking. Once I had my notes for my History of Magic Class laid out on my bed in a certain order for a report I had to write—it took me hours to get them that way. And then Avery came in and did his little cleaning spell and—”
“All right, I said I was sorry about that!” Avery said a bit peevishly. “How was I to know your method of studying involves messy stacks of paper strewn across your bed every which way? Honestly, I thought a hobo had moved into your room!”
“How about some cookies for dessert?” Emma asked, diplomatically changing the subject. “I have some I brought from the I Scream You Scream Diner where I work. They’re a little stale but still pretty good.”
“As long as they’re not chocolate chip,” I said with feeling. “Anything but chocolate chip.”
“What do you have against chocolate chip?” Kaitlyn asked curiously. “Those are my favorite.”
“They used to be mine too—until today,” I said.
I gave them a quick run down of my cookie fiasco in Home Ec and the three of them listened sympathetically.
“And I don’t know what happened,” I finished despondently. “One minute my cookies were practically raw and the next minute they were burnt to charcoal lumps and smoking up the entire classroom! Mrs. Hornsby was not happy with me. In fact, I think she might hate me now.”
“I know what happened,” Avery said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Those bitch witches put an illusion spell on your cookies!”
I frowned. “A what kind of spell now?”
“They made the illusion that the cookies weren’t cooked,” Avery explained. “And the spell didn’t lapse until you had baked them three times and they were good and burned.”
“They can do that?” I demanded. “Mask the sight and smell of the cookies so completely that I didn’t have a clue until it was too late?”
He nodded. “Oh yes—absolutely. It’s strictly against the rules to do unsanctioned magic in Norm classes—well, any classes really but especially the Norm subjects because all the teachers there are Norms with no magical shields or defenses. But we already know that Nasty Nancy and her crew don’t mind breaking the rules.”
“That’s the truth,” Emma muttered. “She really is a bitch.”
“I think she was doing something to the teacher too,” I told Avery. “Nancy’s cookies didn’t look any better or worse than anyone else’s but the way Mrs. Hornsby raved about them, you would have thought they were from a gourmet bakery.”
He nodded. “Oh yeah—she’s definitely cheating. You can get expelled for things like that, you know—people have before. Last year one of the Sisters didn’t feel like writing any of her English essays so she just started handing in blank pieces of spelled parchment. The Norm English teacher saw works of modern literature, of course and gave her straight As…until she got found out.”
“How did she get caught?” I asked, curiously.
“Oh, she was careless and made the magical ‘essays’ too good,” Avery explained. The poor Norm teacher was raving about them to the other faculty—she even wanted to send one in to enter some kind of prestigious writing contest. But when she tried to show off one of the essays, some of the Other Studies teachers saw they were blank.”
“And what happened to the witch—er, the Sister—who did it?” I asked.
“She got expelled,” Avery said seriously. “Headmistress Nightworthy doesn’t tolerate cheating.”
“Well that’s it then!” Kaitlyn exclaimed. “Megan needs to report Nancy and her crew to the Headmistress and get them all expelled.”
But Avery was shaking his head.
“I’m afraid she’d have a hard time proving it with no evidence,” he said. “See, the Sister with the blank essays was sloppy—she left physical proof of her magic, which is in itself, a metaphysical act. But a simple little illusion spell won’t leave a trace.”
“Well, what about the way she’s manipulating the teacher?” I demanded.
Avery shook his head again.
“If she was being obvious about it and not doing the work and getting the teacher to rave after showing her an empty plate where there were supposed to be cookies, maybe. But she and the other Weird Sister-bitches did make the cookies—Nancy probably just added a really subtle taste spell to make them seem better than they were. Kind of like magical MSG,” he explained. “Of course, those of us who know how to cook, don’t have to resort to such low tactics,” he added loftily.
“So couldn’t you bring one of the cookies to Headmistress Nightworthy and tell her they were magically enhanced?” Emma asked.
Avery snorted. “And how would you prove it? The Headmistress is a Nocturne—she’s not going to eat solid food. You might as well ask her to taste a plate of doggie droppings! Besides, separating the spell from the cookie to prove your point would be about as easy as getting real MSG out of a dish after you’d cooked it in. It just kind of dissolves in there and doesn’t leave any trace except the delicious flavor.”
