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“That’s an extremely devious plan but yes, I wouldn’t put it past Nancy.” Ms. Yasmeen shook her head. “I know you want to rehabilitate her, Headmistress, but I’m afraid there is hardly anything good in that girl worth rehabilitating in the first place.”

“Ms. Yasmeen, please.” The Headmistress nodded to Megan and me. “You know it is never my policy to discuss one student in front of another.”

“Forgive me.” Ms. Yasmeen bowed her head briefly in apology.

“Forgiven.” The Headmistress nodded back.

“Excuse me, Headmistress, but do you want me to take that spell off Mrs. Hornsby too?” Megan asked. “I mean, so she can realize that Nancy put that cheer up spell on her and that Kaitlyn and I are not to blame?”

“Unfortunately, even magic as strong as yours cannot completely remove a deeply entrenched feel good,” Ms. Yasmeen said, before the Headmistress could answer. “A properly placed feel good spell will actually become part of an individual’s personality. It is almost like a kind of brainwashing—to the point that even if the person who cast the spell on them did something horrible or stupid or evil right in front of them, they would still love that person and ignore their misdeeds.”

Megan’s eyes widened. “I can see why it’s such a useful spell for politicians. If your constituents will forgive anything you do and vote for you no matter what, you could be the most corrupt, incompetent person on the planet and still stay in office. I mean…you could shoot somebody in the middle of a busy street and your voters wouldn’t even care!”

“That is exactly right, Miss. Latimer.” Ms. Yasmeen smiled at her. “You may have an F from Mrs. Hornsby, but please be assured you will be getting an A in my class this semester to balance it out.”

“But an F is terrible for your GPA!” Megan looked crestfallen. I knew that though she was no longer quite certain she wanted to go to graduate school and get a PhD in Fourteenth Century Literature, she liked to keep her possibilities open. Also, she was one of those people who are extremely concerned about their grades.

I was pretty worried about mine myself.

“I would rather not have an F either,” I said quietly but firmly, looking up at the Headmistress. “Especially when neither Megan nor I have done anything wrong to deserve it.”

Headmistress Nightworthy sighed.

“I’m well aware of that, girls. I will have another talk with Mrs. Hornsby once she has, er, cooled down a bit, but I can promise nothing. It is Nocturne Academy’s policy not to dictate to its teachers how their students are to be graded.”

“But—” Megan began again but the Headmistress held up one slim white hand to stop her.

“As I said, I will do my best for you, Miss Latimer. In the meantime, I must see to Miss Rattcliff.”

She clapped her hands again and the same gerrund appeared before her. (At least, I thought he was the same one—he had the same pointy red cap, anyway.)

“Go and get Nancy Rattcliff and her two cohorts from the Home Ec classroom,” she told him. “And use the shortcut—I want to see them at once. Oh, and bring the remainder of the chocolate cake that Miss Latimer and Miss Fellows baked as well. I don’t want anyone else falling victim to the three-squared cheer up spell which has been placed on it.”

“At once, Mistress of Nocturne,” the little gerrund boomed in his deep voice. Then he took off like a shot and was gone.

13

Kaitlyn

“Miss Latimer, Miss Fellows,” Headmistress Nightworthy said, turning to us once the gerrund was sent on his mission. “I do not usually approve of disciplining one student in front of another. But in this case, I believe you have the right to see what happens to Miss Ratcliff and her friends, considering that the malfeasance they performed has affected you directly. Please stand over there.” She pointed to the far corner of the office. “And do not become involved. But you may stay and watch.”

As she finished speaking and Megan and I scooted over to where she had indicated, the gerrund returned with Nancy and the other two Weird Sisters in tow.

The two girls with her looked frightened but Nancy had her arms crossed sullenly over her chest and a look of studied indifference on her face. She sneered at me and Megan when she came into the office but didn’t say anything at all, even when the gerrund—who looked ludicrously small carrying the tall cake stand with its even taller chocolate cake—entered behind them and set the cake carefully on the Headmistress’s desk.

I was glad to see there was still only one piece missing from the dense, chocolate cylinder of cake. If anyone else in class had been stupid enough to try it, there could have been big problems.

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