Donna sighs. “I know you expected magic, and you got math. It’s regular school. That’s part of the point. To help us all lead everyday lives. Gag,” she whispers.
I burst out into laughter. I’ve grown to appreciate Donna’s contradictions. We pass one of the old teacher’s plaques. Someone has pried away the cardboard cover, and I can see the instructor’s face beneath. A woman transforms into a fox and back into a woman again. Janice Donnegal, Magical Biology.
“But this is all. This is—”
“Magic. Sure, Even if it’s falling apart, yes. Once upon a time, not that long ago, magic powered the school. But then someone pulled the plug.”
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