• Published 23rd Apr 2017
  • 15,326 Views, 7,166 Comments

Magic School Days - Dogger807

When the CMC asked Discord to help them attend magic school, he pulled an owl out of his hat. Only he didn't exactly have a hat. Which was okay, since their new school had a singing one laying around. Where the hay was Hogwarts anyway?

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Chapter 1: Filling Quest Objectives

Author's Note:

Well, I've been introduced to Ezn's guide. Hopeful, this will mean improvements, even though it delayed this chapter.

As such I'm removing the comedy tag and putting it under adventure instead.

Three little fillies sat in a dirty alley examining their letters, letters that weren’t from Celestia’s school in Canterlot. Things were not going according to plan.

“Aaaaaaaand,” the first filly, a little orange Pegasus named Scootaloo began, “check Cutie Mark Negotiators off the list.” The other two fillies just gave her dirty looks.

“That wasn’t a negotiation.” Apple Bloom shook her head. “We got stuffed in a box and shipped off ta Saddle Arabia.”

“Only, without a box,” Sweetie Belle agreed, “or Saddle Arabia for that matter.”

“Or a wooden sword.” Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle turned to stare at Scootaloo once more. “What? Discord said we’d need a wooden sword… I’d kinda feel better if we had a wooden sword.”

There were three seconds of silence before Apple Bloom walked toward the exit of the alley way. “Well, standing around ain’t getting nothing done. Ah’ll go see what’s what; you two wait here.”

The other two girls sat and puzzled over their letters for all of 23 seconds before Apple Bloom came galloping back. “Girls,” she hissed, obviously trying to be quiet, “we are bucked! So totally bucked.”

Sweetie Belle stared at her friend; she wasn’t used to her swearing like that. “Let me guess. Hogwarts is in a country populated by intelligent pigs covered in unsightly skin blemishes.”

“Thar ain’t no pigs out there.” Apple Bloom shook her head violently. “If’n they were, they’d be some mighty long pigs. Ah ain’t ever seen anything like ‘em before, ‘cept maybe a minotaur. An’ they ain’t no minotaurs. An’ thar all wearing dresses, even the ones Ah think ‘r’ stallions. An’ there are a lot of them. An’ not a single pony in sight!”

“Calm down, Apple Bloom. You’re letting your accent show.” Scootaloo trotted up to her and used her mouth to undo the pouch around Apple Bloom’s neck. “Remember, Discord gave us some pendants to fit in. Didn’t you listen when he was giving the quest?”

“But . . . but . . . Ah ain’t got no act-cent.”

Scootaloo snorted in reply and tossed the chain of one of the pendants around her neck and mane. In a blink, there was no longer a pegasus standing in an alley. In her place was a cute eleven-year-old girl. From the neck down, she resembled a minotaur. For clothing, she was wearing a light red skirt and pale pink blouse. Surprisingly, her head was rounder than what a minotaur’s might be and had no horns, though she still had a purple mane. The lack of any fur or feathers on her face really only brought one animal to mind.

Sweetie Belle turned to Apple Bloom and said, “You were right. She’s a long pig.”

“Nah,” Apple Bloom shook her head. “The nose is too small, and I think her skin is too pale to be a pig’s”

“I’m not a pig.”

“We’ve seen you eat,” Sweetie Belle replied.

This earned a glare from the newly minted whatever she was. “Hurry up and put yours on. I want to explore.”

Soon she was joined by two other girls in red skirts and pink blouses, with matching pink trainers to protect their feet. If one looked closely, they could see the resemblance to the ponies that they really were. Knowing that minotaurs walked on their hind legs with ease made it not strange to be doing it themselves.

One would be forgiven for thinking that these three newly transformed girls were taking their unique situation rather nonchalantly. In which case, one would just need to remember a trio of facts. First, the girls were residents of Ponyville. Anypony familiar with the local would say, “Nuff said,” and move on. Secondly, these three fillies were known to have frequent outings in the Everfree Forest, unsupervised outings, as in without a grown-up present. Thirdly, well, they were friends with Discord. If that doesn’t teach one to be acclimatized to the bizarre and unusual, then one probably has mental issues. Though, in all seriousness, hanging out with Discord could probably cause one to have said mental issues.

Confident of their ability to blend in with the locals, the trio made for the exit of the alley. They stepped out into a wider street area abuzz with more of the long pigs, long pigs of all shapes and sizes, though all of them seemed to be at least twice as tall as the girls. All of them were clothed in whole-body-covering dresses. Some had hats on, but the dresses were everywhere.

Gawking at the display, Scootaloo wasn’t watching where she was going. She managed to trip on a crack in the sidewalk, bounce off one of the larger long pigs, rebound and flip over the outstretched leg of another who was taking a step forward. Completing 270 degrees in midair, she landed on her back in front of the astounded pedestrian.

Slightly stunned, she stared up at the clearly older long pig who stared back and said, “Tonks?”

“Whu?” Scootaloo intelligently replied.

“Tonks, is that you pretending to be a firsty?”

“Uhm, no?” Scootaloo glanced at her friends, silently asking how she should handle this.

“Nymphadora, seriously. Is that you?” The long pig smiled down at the befuddled girl.

“I’m gonna have to go with no again.”

“Well, certainly not. You didn’t try and kill me for calling you Nymphadora.”

“Ummmmmmm, yeah,” was another brilliant response.

“She’s sorry that she used your leg as a ballerina pole,” Apple Bloom intervened. “She was just trying to take in the sights.”

“That’s quite all right,” the long pig grinned in reply, “you must be muggle-born. Diagon Alley is rather overwhelming the first time you see it. By the way, my name is Euan, Euan Macduff.”

“Apple, Apple Bloom” was the reply. “These here are Sweetie, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.”

Euan raised an eyebrow, “Just Scootaloo?”

“Err... yeah.” The purple haired girl stood up and dusted herself off.

There was a small pause. “I suppose you three are here to get your Hogwarts supplies.” To this there were three nods. “Have you changed your money over to galleons yet?” To this he received three blank looks. “Right then, you’ll want to head over to Gringotts then.”

“Gringotts?” was the chorus.

“See that building over there?” Euan pointed down the road at a large marble building. “That’s the goblin-run bank. They’ll be able to help you there”

“Oh, quest objective.” Scootaloo smiled.

Euan looked at her, slightly flabbergasted. “You should probably hurry. It’s getting along in the day.”

The girls thanked him for his assistance and made a beeline for the bank. They drew to a halt several feet from the doors of the building to stare at the guards. They were smaller even than the girls, yet they wielded some nasty-looking spears, and they were green.

“So,” Sweetie whispered to her party, “I suppose we call those short pigs?” She was very lucky that the guards were not paying a lick of attention to the young foolish witches.

“Nah, with those teeth thar ain’t no way thar related to pigs. ‘Sides, didn’t you hear Euan call ‘em goblins?”

“Does that make Euan and his people long goblins?” Scootaloo wondered.

“I don’t rightly know if I wanna be a long goblin.” Apple Bloom shuffled her feet. “The short ones scare me.”

“Right now, I don’t care,” Sweetie stated. “We haven’t had lunch yet, and I’m hungry. I say we get some bits and find a restaurant.”

“Galleons.” Scoootaloo resumed her trek toward the quest objective. “Euan called ‘em galleons.”


Inside, the bank was busy. There were lines of long goblins waiting for their turn at short goblins tellers. Being no strangers to the concept of banks, the trio got in line to wait their turn. Watching the hustle and bustle of the goblins, long and short, was more than entertaining enough to make up for the usual boredom of waiting in line. Soon enough, it was their turn.

“Next!” the short goblin behind the teller bars snapped, not even looking up from the ledger he was writing in. The girls hurried up to the counter.

“Hello.” Sweetie Belle smiled at the angry-looking individual. “How are you today?”

The goblin head snapped up with a startled look. Here was a young witch that just oozed friendship and sincerity, at a goblin no less. Must be a muggle-born he thought. “I am well, thank you. How may I help you?”

“We’d like to get some gallons please,” Sweetie answered, and Apple Bloom pulled a handful of gems out of their pouch and set them in front of the teller.

“You’ll be wanting to talk to one of our appraisers then.” He turned and snapped his fingers, summoning one of the runner goblins to come forward. He completely missed the way all three girls flinched when he snapped his fingers. “Sharpthorn here will take you to Glemstone.” Normally, the teller would make a witch or wizard wait at least 30 minutes before making such an appointment; however the girls had done something most wizards would not. They had shown genuine kindness. Granted, it was just a short encounter, but kindness given is often received in kind.

The girls all smiled at the teller and thanked him for his time. Not a proper goblin goodbye, but it was heartfelt and the teller felt a glimmer of acceptance toward wizard-kind. Then, he turned to the next wizard in his line who scowled back with impatience, and it was gone.

Sharpthorn led the girls through an arch set in the back of the bank, into a hallway with many office doors. He walked up to one and opened it. “Please wait in here.”

The girls found themselves in a small office with a desk and five chairs arranged before the desk. Taking their cue, they each took a seat. Then, they all fell out of their chair because they tried to sit like ponies. As they were picking themselves off the ground, another goblin entered the office. Shaking his head at the foolish children, he moved to sit behind the desk. Not rushing, he reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a ledger and some jewel assessing equipment.

“I understand you have some jewels you wish to sell,” was his curt statement.

“Yes sir,” Apple Bloom gulped and retrieved a handful of gems from her pouch. “We’d like some galleons please, sir.”

“’Sir’ is a human term,” the goblin snapped. “Please call me Glemstone, or if you must appraiser Glemstone.”

“Yes, Glemstone,” the girls chorused.

Glemstone peered at the witch whelps for a bit, trying to decide if they were trying to be funny or not. “Time is money. Let me see those gems.”

Apple Bloom obeyed and set them on the desk hurriedly. She then scooted back as fast as she safely could. Ram rod straight in her chair.

Glemstone smiled nastily and picked up the first gem. He took his jeweler’s loupe and began his examination. The nasty smile gave way to a look of concentration. A minute later he put down the first gem. “This one alone is worth more than you three could safely carry. I assume you have a vault with Gringott’s?”

The three girls shook their heads. Sighing, the goblin took three forms out of a desk drawer. “Then I assume you each want one.”

“Is it alright if we just share one?” Scootaloo squeaked.

Glaring at the annoying girls, the goblin put two forms back. “There is a 3% transaction fee for each gem. Fill out this form and Sharpthorn will take you to your vault. The gold for the first gem will be there when you arrive. The gold for the rest will be there tomorrow.” The perplexed goblin watched the girls fill out the form by holding the quills in their mouths.

“May I ask what you are planning to do with that much gold?” Glemstone inquired; he could make a nice commission if he set them up with an account manager.

“Um, school?” Sweetie Belle answered.

“And have you paid your tuition yet?” Three blank stares where all the answers he needed. Sighing once again he asked, “May I see you Hogwarts letters?”

Apple Bloom pulled the letters out of her pouch and handed them over. Glemstone pulled a wooden box out of yet another drawer and dropped all three letters in the box. He then counted to four and removed the letters, handing them back to Apple Bloom. “Your tuitions shall be taken from your vault.”

There was a round of thanks from the girls.

Glemstone decided to go for broke. “I will set you up with an account manager to help you with your gold.”

The girls gave another round of thanks. Well, that was an easy commission. “Now leave me to finish here. Follow Sharpthorn.”

“Yes, Glemstone.” The girls complied and hurriedly followed the smaller goblin out the office.

Glemstone smiled. That had been his best encounter with humans ever.


Five minutes later, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, with eyes screwed shut, were clutching each other, scared for their lives. Scootaloo, on the other hoof, was having a blast as their minecart rocketed through the winding tunnels of Gringotts.

Sharpthorn was upset. Gringott’s minecarts were supposed to be impervious to witch magic. He looked at Scootaloo and said, “I’m not sure how you are doing it, but could you please stop making the cart go faster. I almost missed our last turn.”

“Aww,” Scootaloo pouted. “Do I have to?”

“Yes!” every other occupant insisted. They were killjoys.

“Apple Bloom, how many gems do we have left?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“If’n you wait till we stop, Ah’ll check.” Apple Bloom hugged Sweetie Belle tighter to herself.

“We have stopped,” Scootaloo informed them.

Shakely, Apple Bloom followed Sweetie Belle from the cart.

“That was awesome!!!!!!” Scootaloo cheered.

Three sets of eyes were glaring at her.

“She sits in the back on the way up,” Sharpthorn growled. “I don’t want her anywhere near the controls.”


Sharpthorn turned on his heel and led the girls to a large stone door. He reached into a pocket and withdrew three keys which he distributed to the girls. “Here are your vault keys. Hold them a minute to let them get to know your magic.” The girls held their keys; Scootaloo chewed on her’s a bit.

“May I have one key now.” Sharpthorn received Sweetie Belle’s unchewed key. He turned to the stone door and somehow inserted the key. There was a grinding noise and the door slowly opened outwards.

Inside was a large stone chamber, empty except for a pile of gold. The pile was as tall as the girls were and twice as wide. “Wow,” Sweetie Belle intoned. “We can buy a lot of milkshakes with that many bits.”

“Galleons,” Scootaloo reminded her. “Um, how many gems did we have left again?”

Apple Bloom removed her pouch and said, “Looks like ten. An’ I honestly don’t wanna go back to Glemstone.”

“You could just leave them in your vault,” Sharpthorn advised. “They will be safe here.”

“Okay.” Apple Bloom put the gems on the ground next to the pile of gold.

“Okay, let’s see how many bits we can fit in our pouch.” Sweetie grinned.

“I have a purse for each of you,” Sharpthorn spoke up holding up three bags, each about the size of a cigarette pack with a bronze clasp at one end. “They can each hold 300 galleons easily and have a featherweight spell on them.”

The girls thanked the goblin and shortly there were three small light purses filled with gold, which each girl pocketed.

“Do you think that will be enough for our school supplies?” Apple Bloom asked their escort.

Sharpthorn grinned. “You could each buy your supplies ten times over with what you carry.”

“Good, now let’s go eat.” Sweetie declared.

The ride up was less nerve racking. Scootaloo rode in the back.

As the cart pulled to a stop, Sharpthorn offered some advice. “Most shops will be closed or closing soon. You probably want to get your parents and get a room either at the Leaky Cauldron or out in muggle London and do your shopping tomorrow.” He looked at Sweetie Belle, “You can also get a good meal at the Leaky Cauldron.”

The girls looked at each other guiltily then nodded their heads. They quickly exited the bank soon after.


Standing outside Gringotts, the girls were deciding what to do next.

“Well, we now know the long pigs are called ‘human’.” Scootaloo started the conversation.

“We do?” Sweetie and Apple Bloom turned their attention toward her.

“Yeah.” Scootaloo shrugged. “Don’t you remember Glemstone mentioning it?”

“Told you we weren’t pigs,” Apple Bloom admonished Sweetie, who blushed.

“Also, you do realize we aren’t going to be making it home for dinner tonight.” Scootaloo brought up the next point.

“But we missed lunch,” Sweetie complained.

“Remember, Discord said we had to learn magic to use our ticket home.”

Apple Bloom looked right at Scootaloo, “You’re getting a mite involved in this whole quest thing, ain’t cha.”

“I’ve learned to pay close attention to what Discord says.” Scootaloo shrugged. “He always does exactly what he says.”

“My sister is going to have a hissy fit.”

Another shrug and Scootaloo said, “Don’t worry. Discord will tell them where we are. If it’s too big a deal they’ll badger him to come get us. Besides, I think they’ll go along with the whole school thing.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with our Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom asked

“Hee hee, if you read enough Daring Doo you get a hang of the whole quest thing.”

“Oh,” Sweetie said. “That makes sense. I was beginning to wonder there for a bit. You’ve had the answers all day today.”

“Except,” Apple Bloom looked at the slowly emptying Diagon Alley, “what do we do now? We pretty much used up everything Discord told us to do. Except the shopping, which won’t happen ‘til tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Scootaloo smiled. “Sharpthorn gave us the next quest objective.”

“Food first, then quest.” Sweetie Belle needed a Snickers(TM) bar; she was starting to get cranky.

“Same thing,” Scootaloo replied.

“Um.” Apple Bloom had a thought that was probably important. “What exactly do humans eat?”


Their next stop wasn’t hard to find. All they had to do was ask the first human stallion they spotted, and he was more than happy to take the time to lead them straight to their destination. However, there was a bit of surprise when he took out a stick and tapped a blank wall. Said wall then rearranged itself into an archway. The place they sought was just on the other side of the arch. By this time, Sweetie Belle was seriously considering just finding a patch of grass to gnaw on.

The Leaky Cauldron turned out to be a dingy sort of place, nothing like Sugar Cube Corner. Instead of individual tables and chairs, the majority of seating appeared to be booths set next to the walls. Surprisingly, this wasn’t intimidating; instead it felt strangely welcoming. The girls were quick to claim a booth of their own, excited by the promise of a meal. A larger human stallion in an apron soon found his way over with a friendly smile on his face.

“Well, hello there,” he beamed. “Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron. I’m thinking you three young ladies have just finished your shopping for Hogwarts and have decided to have a meal in celebration.”

“Actually,” Scootaloo frowned, “we got here too late to do our shopping. We were told to get a room here for the night.”

The human clapped his hands together, “You’re in luck, as it is, I only have one room left with one bed. With a little transfiguration, I’m sure you and your parents will be most comfortable.”

“We’ll take it!” Apple Bloom declared. “An’ we’re here by ourselves, so one bed should be fine.”

The human let a frown play across his face. “You three are here by yourselves? Without supervision?”

“Uh huh,” Scootaloo beamed. ‘We’re going to magic school!”

“I see.” The smile returned. “Well then, let’s get you fed and in bed. Your probably in for a big day tomorrow. Do you know what you’d like for supper then?”

“Food!” Sweetie Belle insisted.

“How about three shepherd pies and milk then?” When he was met by three nods, he promised the meals would be out shortly. He patted Scootaloo on her head affectionally and then headed toward his kitchen where the food was to be prepared, and, more importantly, where his private fireplace was located.


Minerva McGonagall was having a quiet evening going over paperwork in her chambers. The start of a school term was always hectic no matter how much preparation she put in. This year had not been an exception. In fact, she had yet to be able to contact three of the muggle-born students who had been sent letters. The whole situation was beyond frustrating.

There had been a reply from the students confirming that they would be in attendance. In fact, the reply for all three came on a single parchment. This in of itself was peculiar, since muggle-borns, more often than not, sent their confirmations on that lined paper muggles preferred. The address associated was even more so. Forty-two degrees inward of north and half past yesterday; Ponyville, was utter gibberish. With less than a week left, McGonagall, the deputy headmistress, had not yet been able to make sure these children were properly taken care of. Yes, it was frustrating.

Suddenly, the flames in her fireplace flared bright green and the disembodied head of an old friend put in an appearance.

“Minerva,” the head spoke, “are you there?”

“Hello Tom,” she answered, surprised at the intrusion. “Yes, I’m here.”

“Good, good,” Tom gave one of his infectious smiles. “I was just flooing you to let you know of a curious situation.”

“Oh? Curious, you say?”

“Yes, Minerva,” he nodded. “I’ve had three girls show up for supper and a room. They say that they’re going to Hogwarts, and they don’t have any supervision. I thought it best you should be informed while I made sure they got fed.”

Minerva blinked; who would throw three young girls into a new world of magic without supervision? She severely hoped it wasn’t another case of an overly religious family getting rid of their witches. That was never a pleasant time. “Did you happen to get their names?”

“No,” Tom grimaced. “That slipped my mind.”

“No matter.” Minerva set down her papers and made her way to the fireplace. “I do believe I know who they are. May I come through?”

“By all means. Be my guest.”


Meanwhile, three young ladies waited as impatiently as only the young can. They were hungry and thirsty, and they had missed lunch. The booth they were in didn’t even have a vase of flowers to nibble on. They were ecstatic when the stallion in an apron returned carrying a tray. The fact that he set the tray down to hover next to their table actually went unnoticed when overshadowed by the prospect of food, as did the human that followed him.

The girls thanked him and dug in as if starved. They weren’t really inspecting what they were eating, just recognizing that it was mashed potatoes with something mixed in, accompanied by bread and milk. That was something of a pity, because there was a whole conversation waiting to be had if they had been more observant.


Minerva stood and watched the young girls make short work of their meals. She could tell at a glance that the children were well-fed and healthy. They were all wearing similar, if shockingly pink, outfits. The only real difference was the bow one wore in her hair. Each had hair that was of unusual color.

The voracious eating habits were probably the results of one missed meal by those not used to missing one, nothing more ominous. This observation was supported by the fact that none of them seemed to be guarding their food nor watching for anyone whom may try to take it away. In fact, they hadn’t even noticed her yet.

As if cued by that thought the red-headed child, with hair brighter than even a Weasley, swallowed her mouthful and acknowledged Minerva. “Hello?”

Minerva gave a disarming smile. “Sweetie Belle?” The girl with the purple and pink hair looked up at the mention of her name. “Apple Bloom?” The red head nodded. “And you would be Miss Scoot Aloo?” The purple-haired youth stopped shoveling food in her mouth with a look of surprise.

“My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress for Hogwarts,” she said by way of introduction. “May I have a seat? I do believe we have matters to discuss.”

Sweetie Belle nodded and scooted over since she was sitting by herself on one side of the booth.

Minerva smiled at the gesture, but instead of sitting in the offered spot, she pulled out her wand and conjured a chair at the end of the booth. She noted that the girls seemed impressed by the feat of magic, but not overly surprised. Once sitting, she continued. “Normally, I would have come to each of your homes to escort you through Diagon Alley for the first time. A . . . peculiarity . . . in the addressing spells deprived us of that opportunity.”

The girls all had a flash of guilt cross their faces as she said this. Whatever their home situations might be would bear looking into if this continued. “It seems, however, that you three managed to find your way here yourselves.”

“We had help,” Miss Aloo offered.

Minerva nodded, “And then you were left here to fend for yourselves?”

“We’re big girls,” Miss Bloom insisted. “Mah sister says we need less supervision than we needed just last year.”

“And your parents agree?” This was meet by a look of sadness from Miss Bloom, negating the need for an answer. “I see. Very well, I assume you were provided means for your expenditures?”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo turned toward their walking dictionary who said, “We got galleons from our vault.”

This was a surprise. Muggle-born, didn’t have vaults. “Your vault?”

Miss Aloo nodded, “Yeah, they gave us a vault when we traded in our gems.”

“You didn’t use pounds then?”

“I’m pretty sure those gems didn’t weigh no pound,” Miss Bloom frowned, “not even a half pound.”

Tom came over with a mug of butterbeer for the professor. “How are we doing then?” he asked.

Miss Aloo smiled at the bartender, “That was awesome. How much do we owe you?”

Tom glance at Professor McGonagall, “That will be 3 galleons four sickles for the meals and the room.”

Miss Belle frowned at that. “All we have are galleons. We weren’t told we need sickles too.”

“Miss Belle,” Professor McGonagall stated, “a galleon is worth 17 sickles.”

“Oh,” Miss Bloom said and pulled a Gringott’s purse out of her skirt pocket. It was one the nicer ones usually associated with the more well to do accounts. Minerva narrowed her eyes at the inconsistencies these girls were presenting in such a short time frame. They had apparently been dropped off in the alley with little fanfare, yet their guardians obviously thought enough to leave them financially stable.

The way they were dressed almost seems like an afterthought. Minerva wasn’t aware of too many young girls being willing to dress in the exact same casual outfit, even being friends. Maybe there was more to those garbled addresses than first met the eyes.

The possibility that their families had thrown these young witches out with the intent to disown was looming larger. That would explain why they had been given a large sum. Some families still had enough conscience to provide financially for their members even as they were discarding them. Minerva had seen it happen before. She would have to contact Gringotts and see to it that the girls had enough for their education as well as living expenses for the next seven years. If not, she would have to see to finding funds or scholarships for these young witches. She hoped she was wrong about her suspicions.

Minerva talked to the girls for another half hour to get an idea where they stood. Little enlightenment was added. They seemed friendly and well adjusted, more like a socially raised muggle-born than anything else. Yet, at the same time, they plainly were avoiding answering her probing questions into their home lives. She had no explanation for their unusual names, their strange hair, or why they were seemingly unsupervised.

Hardly satisfied, Minerva promised to come by at noon the next day to help with their shopping and show them around the alley. She had to hurry back to the castle and fill out paperwork for the goblins to give any insight to their finances, insight that she would need to gauge the level of spending to be had on the morrow. She also needed to contact the ministry to see who was registered as their magical guardians.

The start of a school term was always hectic no matter how much preparation she put in. Now it looked like she had extra work to pursue.

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