Her first day in Ash House saw what was becoming a traditional greeting from Larcen.

‘Didn’t you hear me yesterday? You’ve no place here?’ Larcen scowled the moment she made her way downstairs to the commons. He was surrounded by his friends who smiled in appreciation at the attempted humiliation. ‘Why don’t you go stay in Elder House – or are you not wanted there either? Better yet, why don’t you leave the island entirely? Your sort isn't wanted anywhere.’

‘You’re wrong,’ she replied to him calmly. ‘I have a place here too, like you.’ Always meet a bully calmly and confidently, that’s what her mother had told her. They thrive on fear as it gives them more power. It wasn’t advice she’d paid much attention to at the time, but it seemed perfect now.

Larcen’s scowl deepened and he loomed over her, intimidatingly. ‘You’re nothing like me. That purple cloak says it all.’

‘Get. Out. Of. My. Face.’ Elvie wouldn’t be intimidated by a bully. She cocked her fist at her side, ready for anything if this was going to escalate.

Larcen didn’t know how to respond. Girls didn’t fight back, especially not those he was familiar with from the upper class. His eyes widened slightly, but whatever he would say or do was cut off by an older student wandering by.

‘Think you’re the Master now, Larcen? Think you know where people do and don’t belong. Why you can’t summon enough control of your magic to stop the snot falling out of your nose!’

The student was rangy, like a corded whip ready to crack. Steely grey eyes stared Larcen down. But while he appeared to be a bully, he was not a coward. Larcen picked up his food and left without further comment, drawing a crowd from the commons with him.

The boy turned to Elvie. ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s one of those that has had an easy life and never had to work for anything. He’s not that bad guy, a fool maybe. Besides… the whole Elder thing, it hurts us all a little.’ He shrugged and walked away.

‘What’s your…?‘ She thought to ask his name, but the boy was already gone.

Miserably, she stared at her breakfast while Rilla joined her.

‘I’m sorry about Larcen…’ she tried.

Elvie shrugged. ‘Let’s talk about something else.’

Rilla nodded. ‘You didn’t sleep well last night?’

Sighing, Elvie replied: ‘Let’s not talk about that either.’ Stress caused bad dreams, and she felt quite stressed at the moment.

A presence beside them interrupted Rilla’s futile attempt to make conversation, as Ghirstwen appeared.

‘Was there a problem earlier? Care to fill me in?’

She shook her head.

‘Very well. But I’m always here if you need me.’ She paused and waited, but Elvie made no reply. ‘Anyway, I have these pages for you – they’ll cover your classes and some other basic information. On your way out, stop in at the little office off the entrance and I’ll give you some writing materials, paper and so on. Don’t forget, or you’ll have nothing for your classes today, and I’ll be less than impressed!’

After breakfast, Elvie made doubly sure she received everything and joined Rilla and a sleepy-looking Flynn to get on the morning bus, or bus-truck as Rilla called it. According to Flynn, who was unusually knowledgeable about most things, the bus ran around all the houses to arrive at Ash House at 8.45 sharp, every morning. They’d gather all the students up and drop them at their classes, located beside the Court.

As it rumbled into view, Elvie let out a small laugh. Yellow and rickety, with gasps of smoke sporadically trailing in its wake. At some point in its life, it might have been a truck, but with some minor metal improvements, it had transformed into an open bed bus.

‘You’d think with all the magicians around here, they would have nicer things…’ Elvie said to Rilla, squishing beside her on the thin bench seats.

‘Some of them might think so, but many magicians prefer simplicity and don’t want to spend the Island’s money.’

‘But what if it rains?’

Rilla smiled brightly at the thought. ‘Don’t worry – the driver is from Alder House, so he knows protection spells better than anyone. We’ll be perfectly shielded and safe, even if there is an accident. You don’t need them if you have someone from Alder around.’

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Elvie had thought the 1930s just wasn’t up to date on seatbelts.

The bus slowly made its way back towards the Court, where Rilla took her classes with the other second year students. Elvie would have Flynn for company in the smaller teaching buildings located behind.

Her first lesson was to be general magical history.

It struck as something of a surprise when James Vermont walked through the doorway and into the classroom. It shouldn’t have really, the way he had prattled on said this was clearly his passion.

‘All right, enough!’ He called out loudly to the gathered students. ‘Take your seats, open your books and close your mouths so we can get started!’

Almost exactly like her teachers in her first year of High School. It took several moments, but eventually, everyone settled.

‘Not many of you would know me, but I’m James Vermont.’ He pushed his glasses back up his nose and smiled warmly. ‘I’m sure some of you know all about general history, but I’ll be the one guiding you through magical history this year.’

‘This class will teach you the basics of magical history. Who we are is defined by our past – our culture. To understand magic, you must understand the history behind it. The perils and pitfalls, the great achievements and glorious buildings. You may have guessed, but History is a passion of mine, as it is to most who are in Hazel House. And my favourite area is to study the famous men and women who have gone before. You see, a good man or woman can do wrong as easily as anyone evil. In an instant, they could tear something down, take a life, or perhaps save one. We are all faced with these choices, yet we have seen them before, often over and over. I find this fascinating – but why do you think I find it fascinating.

Nobody responded, but Elvie tried. Timidly she raised her hand.

‘Elvie?’ James asked.

‘You want to think.’

James tilted his head and looked at her. ‘Very good. Would you like to explain to the rest of your class?’

‘If you study all the choices made by these people, you might be able to think about your own choices and make better ones.’

‘Exactly right! Or as I like to put it. Monkey see, monkey won’t do.’ Head scratching ensued. ‘Never mind – we’ll work on that lesson another day. For now, we’re going to start with some fundamentals. I’m going to hand out some sheets of paper – what I’d like you to do is read through it and highlight anything you think is important. Then we’re going to talk it over.’

James Vermont appeared to be an engaging teacher, just like her own in Australia. He gave them different books to read, and they intrigued Elvie as a mystery novel would. One spoke of the Luminarium, which was the Council of European mages with representatives coming from the four key countries of Britain, France, Germany and the United Nordic Countries. Russia hadn’t been invited since they’d turned communist with the help of their magical community; an act regarded as a betrayal of all magicians stood for. Germany was now frowned upon, although the magical community had, so far, not sided with the new government.

Reading about Germany brought a deluge of questions, and revealed fears another war could be in the future.

A Rowan House student questioned James: ‘What about this new Chancellor in Germany – my Dad says that he is all about having another war, that he raves about it.’

‘Well he certainly has, but that doesn’t mean another war. There will be a lot of delicate discussions taking place internationally, of course, and we have grown a lot since the Great War. Nobody wants to see the devastation and loss of life again.’

‘But Adolf Hitler…’

Hitler. Elvie dropped her pen, stunned. She knew that name and was aghast. Of course, they didn’t know about World War II. They didn’t know that Hitler would cause another war and do horrible things. But Elvie did. She’d seen some of it, on a documentary her father was watching before he told her that it was ‘too gruesome for someone so little’ and turned it off.

Adolf Hitler would lead to millions of people dying.

Her mind whirled. What should she do, tell them? Elvie had no idea what the consequence of that would be. Would it change history? Could it be stopped? Horrified, she zipped her mouth closed until she’d more time to ponder the consequences.

‘Why do they let the Germans come to any meetings if they’re so bad?’ another student posed the question while Elvie retreated into herself.

James Vermont eyes narrowed with focus. ‘Two reasons – firstly, Adolf Hitler was elected ‘legally’ into his country – not in a great fashion, and not without violence and deaths. Secondly, the magical community in Germany doesn’t necessarily support him. Only one or two has declared their loyalty. As a matter of fact, we’re not sure the German leader would know anything about magic at this stage. So it’s an opportunity for the rest of us magicians to find out what is happening, and see if we can help them to make positive changes. Cutting off Germany would be easy, but would it necessarily be the best option? Anyway… I’m wandering off track – politics always gets me going!’

‘Let’s get back to historical history, not current events. Where were we… Ah. Britain, France, Germany and the Nordic Countries are the four recognised magical communities in Europe. Others do exist. A small one in Holland has recently developed some skill, especially in Willow House. Another sits in Switzerland, but they don’t want much to do with anyone else. Across the world, you’ll find others, as far away as the countries of the Orient or Africa, but these are not particularly large. For right or wrong, what magicians are concerned about is that magic remains a controlled medium. We work with government and royalty to ensure it is contained, controlled and does not become public knowledge. As a result of that, you do not tend to see many magical communities develop.’

It was a loaded statement, and one that Elvie was about to question when a student instead yelled out: ‘Oh my – look out the window!’ A ruckus was triggered.

‘I see we won’t get any work done today, will we?’ James rolled his eyes.

‘Dear Lord – it’s the King and Queen!’