Page 19 of The Headmistress

“Some? How generous of you, Professor.” The eyes, more blue than amber, were watchful and the voice dripped with sarcasm.

“We agree that we disagree on this for the moment, Headmistress. Could we perhaps revisit?” At Magdalene’s dismissive wave, Sam bid her farewell, agreeing that the matter was by no means settled, although Magdalene’s eyeroll certainly spoke of the opposite. A strategic retreat left her more options than a balls-out crash and burn, and so Sam decided that leaving was best for now. Plus, she and her aforementioned instincts were on a mission.

* * *

Guided by her intuition and a conviction that was forming with every new interaction with the headmistress, Sam decided to check on her suspicion that Magdalene had a connection to Dragons in the one place that was open to her. On her way to the archives, located in the basement of the Sky Blue House dormitory, Sam found herself despairing at the disrepair awaiting her in the dusty and moldy underground corridors. She had not remembered it being quite so shabby in her days. Sure, about twenty years had passed since she’d last been down here, hiding from the Proctor who had insisted on her participation in some House event or other, when Sam had only wanted to read her book in peace.

The rusty lock opened with an ominous creak, and Sam looked inside a veritable dungeon. Rows and rows of dusty cardboard boxes lined the somewhat sagging wooden shelves that filled the cramped room. It pained her to admit that some things Magdalene was absolutely right about. Parts of the school were in such a precarious state that it was embarrassing they had been allowed to get this bad.

She stopped and gave herself a good minute to formulate her query in her head. Googling Magdalene hadn’t helped much, since most of the information about her related to her years at Rodante after her marriage to Timothy. Sam had no idea about her maiden name or her age. And Magdalene’s looks didn’t help matters at all. Shallow wrinkles around her mouth and eyes didn’t give away her real age but only added to her allure. Yeah, Sam knew she must be totally gone over this woman if even her wrinkles werealluring.

Not having any real help from her quarry herself, Sam cast her mind to the clues in front of her. Orla and Joanne acted like they knew Magdalene. And while Orla’s knowledge could be inferred from whatever academic events they might have crossed paths at during Orla’s time at Dragons, it was Joanne’s familiarity with Magdalene that Sam found surprising. She had been on staff at the school most of her life. Considering that Magdalene could be any age from forty upwards, Sam had her work cut out for her.

But after two hours of being bent over countless boxes of student files, Sam found what she was looking for. As luck would have it, there were surprisingly few Magdalenes that had attended Dragons, and only one that fit the scarce criteria. Magdalene Smith had been admitted as a sophomore on a probationary basis. There was no picture, and the file itself was pitifully thin. The student’s probationary period had been terminated six months later and Magdalene Smith expelled for ‘physical and background unsuitability’ and ‘failure to integrate into Three Dragons’ existing institutional, cultural and religious principles.’ High grades were interspersed with disciplinary measures taken against young Magdalene, mostly for common or silly infractions like occasional fighting, refusing to take part in House activities, and—to Sam’s utter astonishment—fidgeting. Damn, what barbarian counted that as a strike against a child?

And Magdalene fighting? She couldn’t see the now cool and collected woman losing her composure under any circumstances. Well, under certain circumstances, but those were behind closed doors and sans clothes. Still, nowadays Magdalene was faced with protests and outbursts and downright insults from pretty much everyone at the school, and had been since she’d arrived—and she hadn’t as much as raised an eyebrow, not to mention her voice. And fidgeting? The formidable Headmistress was a veritable sphinx at times, not a muscle moving in her countenance when repose was required.

What had happened to the perfectly normal and ordinary child, who’d fought and argued and was restless through boring classes, to transform her into the person who was now systematically dismantling the school brick by old, dusty brick?

Sam felt like everything recorded in the sparsely populated file barely painted the whole picture. She herself had been a belligerent and reluctant pupil, as Magdalene had remarked, ‘shoehorned’ into a rigid structure she did not belong in. But she’d been allowed to stay. Why wasn’t Magdalene?

A noise behind her made her turn around abruptly, heart beating noisily in her ears.

“I figured you’d come down here sooner or later, child.”

Joanne stood in the opened doorway holding a flashlight.

“I guess you figured right.” Sam carefully set the file aside and put the cardboard lid back on the box. “I also guess you know who I was looking up? Since you yourself pushed me towards getting curious about it.”

“Always too smart for your own good, little one. I wasn’t entirely sure if letting you know she had been a Dragonette once was a good idea. And she hasn’t brought it up herself. Though perhaps she should have. Would’ve gotten her much more goodwill from the faculty and the girls who are summering at the school. Seeing as how she is one of us.”

“Is she? One of us?” Sam put the box back on the sagging, moldy shelf and picked up the file, holding it in front of her like a shield, although she couldn’t say why she had to defend herself, especially when speaking to her oldest guardian and friend.

“She was, Sammy. Until she wasn’t, I guess.” Joanne came in and sat down next to her, her hands shaking slightly, whether at the exertion of getting down to the basement through the labyrinth of passageways or at the prospect of having this conversation.

“Why was she expelled six months into her first year?”

“Her file says she did not fit in.” The answer was so ridiculous to Sam’s ears that she felt rooted to the spot.

“File says? Did not fit in? Are you talking about her eyes? Heterochromia is genetic. It is not her fault. Hell, I did not fit in, and not just because my eyes are grey. This kind of logic is like telling any of the scholarship girls they don’t fit in. You and Orla and everyone else at the school championed both myself and Lily and countless others. But you lot canned a sixteen-year-old kid for having bi-colored eyes?”

Her outrage was so strong, Sam hadn’t noticed a second person crossing the threshold into the archives.

“So is this where the precious personal information of students and faculty is kept? Seems rather careless, if not downright hazardous. It looks more like a den of iniquity. George said she saw you troop down here, and I thought I knew exactly why.”

Magdalene stood tall and proud in the dim light, the overhead emergency bulb washing her in an eerie glow. With both Sam and Joanne staring at her, she went on.

“While my eye color was perhaps the most simple reason that could have been used to dismiss me from the school, Professor Threadneedle, it was my less than legitimate birth that was ultimately utilized as too big of a scandal for the deeply religious trustees, and my presence at the school was curtailed swiftly. A very conservative school like Three Dragons, built on all those illustrious principles of having children inside the sanctity of marriage between one man and one woman, did not sufferbastards, Professor. Thirty years ago it was kind of a big deal, certainly enough for the devout, good ole church-going trustees to vote unanimously to remove me from the school.”

She stepped farther into the dusty room, seeming to fill it with her presence. The subtle scent of wild jasmine did warm, familiar things to Sam’s insides.

“What Professor Dorsea is not telling you, is that soon after my so-called probationary term was terminated prematurely for the stated reason of me not being able to fit into any of the houses due to my ophthalmologic condition and, in actuality, for being a bastard...” The word simply rolled off her tongue making Sam and Joanne visibly cringe again. “She and a few other teachers went on strike to make sure this never happened again. Didn’t you, Professor Dorsea?”

Sam’s mind, too busy doing the math, suddenly came to a screeching halt.

“You mean when I was found?”

Joanne moved uncomfortably on her perch and refused to raise her eyes.

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