Artemisia had done a great deal of research on Asthrifel — she had visited the school three times, she has to read everything she could find about the place, she had devoured articles on going to college, on your first day at school, on how to study, on how to take an exam, on what spells were allowed and not allowed in classes, on school grounds, to be used by students at all — she’d removed three teas and four charms from her bag, but left the two that Sage and his wife snuck in there (because those, while not explicitly allowed, were also not explicitly disallowed. Sage was, after all a smart man.).
Nothing, none of her reading, none of her studying, none of the teas and charms and strange spells, none of it had prepared her for her first lecture class.
Artemisia had gone to a relatively small high school for the last three years of her secondary education — at her insistence, and in parallel with continuing the homeschooling that her mother had started when she was three. None of her classes had held more than thirty people, and that would have been an unusually large lecture. Continue reading