Chapter Twelve: Advanced

It was hard to see the latest turn of events as anything but a massive windfall. I'd managed to alter the behavior plans of my fellow littles and, against all odds, returned them. I'd secured my own plan for alteration and somehow found an unexpected ally in Headmistress Lily. Sure, it was possible that she didn't know that something was afoot, that she'd conveniently missed my shenanigans through a series of missteps and oversights... but that seemed improbable. Far more likely, I was playing into some far-reaching plan of hers. What possible plan might that be? I hadn't any clue, but the headmistress had left a trail of crumbs for me to follow and, for as long as our goals weren't at obvious odds, I would follow them. First among those crumbs was preparing for my transfer to the Advanced dormitory.

I broke the news to my fellow littles shortly after telling Cassie. I wasn't quite sure how to take the news, myself - maybe my advancement would create new opportunities to make friends and to further my own development... but it also meant I was the slightest bit closer to being reunited with Rowan Bryce, which I was not enthusiastic about. If there was any way to shield myself from his (and his son's) depredations, it hadn't yet occurred to me. But that was months off. The most pressing aspect of my switching dorms was leaving my crew of loyal littles.

"I've never heard of somebody advancing in only three months," Michelle said. "I've been here for like a year and a half."

"Three and a half months," I said. "And it's partly because Doctor Sauvage thinks the Advanced Bigs can boss some sense into me."

Simone rolled her eyes. "Not a chance of that."

"It sucks that we'll never get to see you," Michelle said. "We'll have different dorms, different meal times, different classes... everything!"

"You could always join gymnastics. I bet you'd be really good at it."

"I don't think littles can join groups..."

"If you can get your two faculty signatures, you can - the same as anybody else. Come on! I'll need a friend in there!"

Michelle nodded uncertainly. "I'll think about it."

I eventually did guilt her into signing up and further guilted Ms. Law into signing a permission form - Michelle wasn't a model student in Physical Conditioning the way that I was but, I argued, training in gymnastics would surely improve her balance and poise. It seemed plausible, at least.

"Michelle... you'll be missing my class once per week, but I'll expect your progress to proceed unaltered," she said.

"Yes, Ms. Law."

Naturally, my highest priority was to get my behavior plan altered and ready to return to Headmistress Lily. Either I was walking right into a trap or she was inexplicably on my side. If the latter, she'd surely give me some window of opportunity to make the swap back during my first day on the job. At this point, I was an old hand at analyzing and editing behavior plans, but what surprised me was the nature of some of the changes I'd supposedly undergone. My physical changes had passed with flying colors, and my mental compulsions not so much. Namely:
1a) During my initial round of punishments, the ones that shrank my body, there was an additional change that was supposed to give me... the warm tinglies, I suppose... whenever I was subservient. That clearly hadn't worked - except, I suppose, sexually. I'd always been assertive in bed, not quite a dominant, but probably not far off. Now I got a thrill out of little games where I was being dominated. I could undo those changes, now, if I wanted to... and, ultimately, decided against it. I kind of liked my new sub kink.
1b) Those size changes also reduced my physical strength disproportionately, leaving me weak even by the standards of my current size. That explained a lot. Fortunately, I'd be able to reverse those changes - hopefully, I could return to something approximating normalcy within a few punishments.
2) The minor punishments I received at the hands (literally) of Ms. Sturm, especially, were designed to add mild compulsions to make me obedient by giving me nausea or headaches when I was willful or obstinate - they couldn't change my mind, per se, but they could change how my body felt and, in so doing, use unpleasant sensations to condition me over time. Only none of those punishments ever seemed to stick, for whatever reason... and I think I saw why. Basically, whoever had written the punishment had directed it at my mental perceptions rather than at my body (probably because it was a lot simpler) and my mind seemed to be nearly immune to this type of change. Oops.
3) The second round of body punishments, the ones that made me swell out like a pint-sized centerfold, had also made me more physically sensitive - that is, sensitive to pleasure and pain alike. They'd certainly amped up my sexual sensitivity (I'd thought it was just a kind of feminine sexual awakening, but I guess it was more than that), but I'd never really noticed the pain part. I guess that bit hadn't worked, either, being directed toward my mind rather than just increasing signals from my body (as the pleasure had).
4) I was able to mark the above-mentioned curve-ifying punishment as completed (it wasn't - they would have kept plumping me up with curves until I could barely move) and then add an entirely new section: upping my physical strength and nerve conduction (better for gymnastics, I assumed), and reducing my bodily response to fear (I wasn't sure if this would interfere with my sub kink, but I was tired of being intimidated by everybody who was way bigger than me, since that was a lot of people), and finally adding enough in the way of minor physical changes that the faculty had visual confirmation that the 'punishment' had taken (I copied some of the symbology from Cassie's book for this - it was hard to parse, but I thought I might make myself look more mature).

In all, it wasn't that many changes, but I thought I might be able to undo a few harms had befallen me without alerting the faculty. I still couldn't violate the school's contract with the Bryces, but I could make my punishments look and feel plausibly believable to them, to fit in with my old behavior plan without utterly breaking me, as the punishments were intended to do. That way, when the Bryces finally got their hands on me, I might not be a helpless plaything at their mercy… but they wouldn't know that.

"You can read all that?" Cassie asked me, leaning over my shoulder. Her blue-fringed hair tumbled over my shoulder and blocked my view of the book.

"Just about," I shrugged - I'd been cribbing from behavior plans for a few weeks now, and once you've seen enough of them, the clusters of patterns started to form familiar sequences.

She whistled, scanning over the text. She pointed to one of the symbol quaternions in the first section of my punishment symbology. "What does that one do?"

"Um... that one? Makes me stronger... they nerfed me a few times, which is why I'm a total wimp."

Cassie wrapped me in a hug and giggled. "Don't get too strong. I like being able to boss you around."

"I think I'd have to become a serial killer to get punished enough to out-flex you - none of the changes are, like, supernatural. I mean… the changes are witchcraft, but they just change your physical body and don't bless or curse you or anything. I'd just be toned - eventually. But you won't get to boss me around, anyway - I'll be in Advanced."

Cassie nodded. "Yeah. But I think they'll advance me soon. A new Big is coming in a few weeks from what I hear, and I'm next up to advance..."

"Really?" I giggled. "Not Cecilia?"

"Too immature, Mrs. Marl says. She's behind on her behavior plan. I'm apparently very good."

"You can thank your roommate for that," I said, giving her cheek a little peck. "Hurry up with it, though - I don't want to be the new girl for too long."

She kissed me back, more than a peck. "Advanced won't know what hit 'em."

+++++

The next day, Michelle and I had our first day of gymnastics. And boy, was Michelle a natural. Her small, lithe frame was limber and deceptively strong and her balance honed enough (thanks, Mrs. Law!) that she got a handstand right on her first try. She had a body built for gymnastics. I, on the other hand, had... not so much. Sure, I was flexible. Full splits? No problem. I could do somersaults that weren't quite embarrassing. But I was in far worse shape than I realized, courtesy a body dosed with three rounds of muscle-weakening diminution magic. I felt ridiculous enough in my dark blue, school-issued leotard, which did a poor job of hiding my substantial breasts and continually threatened to ride up my plush ass. I was very self-aware, and It didn't help things at all that Ms. Azucar kept calling attention to me:

"Come on, Natalie, just bring your legs up and turn yourself over," she said. "Haven't you ever been on the monkey bars before?"

Yes, I'd been on the fucking monkey bars - about fifteen years before, and in a body that wasn't tiny and weak. I was out on the rings to gauge... well, I'm not sure what. But I wasn't very good at it. I couldn't do a turn on them. I could barely even get on them - I could jump just high enough to grab the rings, and then I could hold on for all of about five seconds before my pathetic grip gave out. Ms. Azucar thought I was joking - that's how bad it was. But eventually, she was convinced.

"We're going to have to work on your upper body strength, Natalie. A lot," Ms. Azucar said. "You're flexible - that's good! But... well... you have to be able to lift your weight."

"I'll work on that," I said. "Actually... it would help if you recommended a punishment from the headmistress."

"You're... asking... me to punish you?"

I wiped the chalk off my hands. It hadn't done much for my grip. "Yeah... I have a feeling my behavior plan might help me with gymnastics."

It took some convincing - what girl wanted to be punished? - but she relented. Ms. Azucar was the coach of the gymnastics team, obviously, and the head of the gymnasium - all of the actual gym classes and all of the non-team sports. She had the build of a former gymnast, only a few inches taller than me and framed in the lithe-but-powerful way that gymnasts often are. Her hair was salt and pepper and had never quite graduated past a Mary Lou Retton bob. It contrasted with her youthful face, dusky and animated. She kept in good shape and wasn't above demonstrating techniques herself. I once saw her do a one-legged standing back-flip. With some reservations, she signed off on a Level 4 reprimand - the highest level that didn't require both the headmistress and the doctor to sign off on it. And then I got to experience, first-hand, exactly how my alterations had panned out.

"Causing a general disturbance?" Headmistress Lily asked me later. "What in the world did you do in there?"

I shrugged. "I'm very bad at gymnastics."

Five paddlings later, and I was ostensibly not so physically pathetic. I made a muscle, but I couldn't tell much difference. I suppose I'd gone from 'almost nothing' to 'almost something'. But the effects were subtle. I thought my backpack felt a bit lighter, but I wasn't going to be doing one-armed handstands any time soon. There were some unexpected side effects, too - as I've mentioned, I'd copied symbology from Cassie's plan. I'd copied a bit too literally and was now sporting several tattoos and a fringe of metallic pink highlights in my hair - which annoyed me, as I really liked my hair. The tattoos were little vines with tiny pink flowers, some of their little vinelets done up in witching symbols - pretty neat, but entirely unexpected. The one that snaked down toward my elbow would be hard to hide.

"Hmm," Headmistress Lily said afterward. "Not the punishment I was expecting." She glanced into my rule book, cracked open on her desk, its symbology automatically updated on the basis of my edited behavior plan. "The symbology of these things is very advanced - I doubt an initiate such as yourself could understand it."

"I doubt I could," I agreed.

"Perhaps I can teach you a bit during your assistantship... we start tomorrow."

Headmistress Lily was definitely up to something, but at least my altered plans - both for Michelle and now for myself - basically worked as intended. Nobody was turning into a slug, nor into a simpering little doll, which was worse than a slug in some ways. After gymnastics and my subsequent 'punishment' in Lily's office, I had to attend my very last class as a beginner - Physical Conditioning - still in my gymnastics leotard.

"You look so cute!" Cassie whispered. "Um... did you get tattoos?"

I nodded - I sure had, and I'd get more if I didn't further alter my plan before I got it back to Lily. Which would be next to impossible… unfortunately, I'd sealed the plan with a blood pact (with myself) the night before, which complicated things - few contracts can overpower a blood-pact with yourself. Everything else being acceptable, I'd have to live with tats and pink streaks in my hair. I gave my hair one last look before pulling it up into uniform-mandated pigtails. Then, having packed up my few belongings, I placed my things on top of my bed and headed for my last dinner with the Beginner girls.

+++++

There were a lot of tearful goodbyes at the little dinner table that evening, as well as a lot of eye-rolling from the Bigs. I was somewhat heartened that Simone and Cassie would be joining me before too long, and that I'd still get to see Michelle in gymnastics (assuming I could keep up with it - no guarantees). But I was leaving the safety net I'd cultivated over the past several months and heading into unknown territory.

Cassie headed across campus with me, hefting my wardrobe in a pack over her shoulder - there's no way I could carry my backpack and my clothes. I'd tried and could technically lift all my stuff (which would have been impossible before my latest punishment), but there's no way I could have made it across campus - I'd still need to work on my strength. We walked through the cool evening air, the trees of campus still autumnal in their russet and gold, our way lit by the path lights like little bonfires in the dark.

"I guess we'll have a winter ceremony soon," I said.

Cassie nodded. She was crying. "Yeah," she sniffed. "Before the Winter Festival. More nonsense with the collars, too, I imagine."

We stopped at the entrance to the Advanced dormitory, "I hope my Big and I can come to an understanding," I said.

Cassie gripped me in one of her accustomed amazon death hugs. "I'm your Big," she whispered. I let her hold me for a minute - and I was tearing up, myself.

"Cassie... breathing..." I croaked.

She laughed and wiped her tears away. "You're going to do great."

Cassie had seen me to the threshold, but she couldn't go inside - nobody was allowed into the dorms of the other cohorts, so I was now banished from the Beginner dorm, too. Cassie turned away and headed back into the night, her confident, sinuous stride gradually fading into the dark, the burnished brown of her hair barely visible along the lit path. I sighed, hefted my wardrobe, and carried my things inside, the door clicking behind me with a fitting finality.

I had my room assignment: 203. Apparently, they didn't have a C-wing in the Advanced dormitory - but they did have a large common lounge and generally nicer digs. I made my way back to my new room, pacing down a broad hallway warm with soft yellow lighting, its walls paneled in rich walnut, the carpet soft and burgundy. When I got to 203, the door opened without much fuss and I carried my things inside.

"It's about time you got here," the girl inside said - Marie von Schurr was her name, short and broad by Big standards, perhaps 5'8" (so she still towered over me) and built like a rugby player. Despite her overall frame, she still managed to carry fine, aristocratic features and an expression of mild disdain.

"I'm Natalie," I said.

"Marie. You can get to cleaning the room after you put your things away." She gestured vaguely.

The room was a mess. Not a total, terrible mess, but certainly an intermediate-level clutter that would never pass muster if Mrs. Rust saw it. Strewn articles of clothes, a dozen books, and a partially-disassembled mountain bike, to name a few things. They were spread about with no regard for space - a book and a pair of sweaty socks were on my bed. I tossed those items off my bed and got to stowing my wardrobe. Then I tossed the several papers on my study desk into the mostly-full bin and set up my area. I hopped up onto my new bed, testing the mattress and sniffing at the pillow - it seemed fresh.

"Well?" Marie asked.

I shrugged. "What? I've put my things away, haven't I? Not to start things off on the wrong foot, Marie, but it isn't my job to clean up after you. If it isn't in my rule book, I don't have to do it."

"Tiffany warned me about you," Marie said. She stood from her desk and walked to my side of the room, expressive lips curled into a sneer. Her hair was the same color as Cassie's but it was cut short in a pageboy style. And her arms looked like they could twist me into a pretzel if she had a mind to. She squinted. "Tiffany told me about you, girl."

"Natalie."

"She said you're impertinent, don't like to follow rules. If you're a sucker for punishment, you can be impertinent on your own time. But you're my little now, so you'll do as I say. The littles here serve their betters - at meals, in our rooms, and elsewhere - however we want, whenever we want."

"Ah," I said. I sat up on my bed and smiled affably, my face the picture of angelic innocence. "I think I see the problem. You seem to be under the impression that I give a shit about tradition. Do you know why I'm here, Marie? No? Well, I'll educate you: I'm here because I'm the most obstinate pain-in-the-ass little that this school has ever enrolled and Doctor Sauvage is under the impression that you lot will be able to domesticate me where the Beginners failed. So I'll tell you this once, and once only: make things easy on yourself. We can be colleagues and equals, and I'll even play nice in front of your friends. Maybe you can have a roommate who's actually your friend, too, instead of a simpering servant. Or you can insist on ice skating uphill, and I can promise that you won't be happy with what happens. Ask Cecilia with the Beginner Bigs. Ask your girl Tiffany." I held out my hand for her to shake. "Friends or nothing. What do you say, roomie?"

"I'd say you have a lot to learn," Marie said coolly. "Do you know why I don't have my old roommate?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me."

She tutted. "Her husband-to-be bought her early - bought her. He bought out the remainder of her contract with the headmistress's blessing. That's the fate of littles around here. You're servants if you're lucky... more likely property. It's our job to get you to realize that - and if you don't, I can promise that you won't be happy with what happens. Don't want to clean the room? Fine. I won't twist your arm - wouldn't want to break it. We'll see what happens."

With that, she grabbed her robe and towel and stormed out of the room. I sat there on my bed for a while, wondering what I'd just gotten myself into. Wondering if I even ought to dare sleep tonight. Regardless, I wouldn't be cleaning up after Marie von Schurr... she hadn't even asked nicely. But I'd sure as shit snoop about through her things.

+++++

I slept that night, and nothing bad happened. Marie left her things cluttered - she wasn't about to capitulate to a little - but neither did she bring it up again. She shuffled back into our room after her shower, glared at me with her coal-dark eyes for about thirty seconds, and then switched off the light.

During her shower, I'd snooped through Marie's things, of course. There was nothing too out of the ordinary - Advanced girls, it seemed, were allowed to have more personal effects than Beginner girls. She had, for instance, about a dozen issues of a magazine on cross-country biking... no particular surprise there. She also had the standard complement of school textbooks, notebooks, and... a personal journal. The journal took a minute to notice because Marie had done a decent job of hiding it using an old but tricky magical technique (the same technique was used, somewhat more artfully, to make our Initiate's Handbooks unnoticeable to the uninitiated). Her journal had sketches, personal notes, her various musings, a blow-by-blow social accounting of the Advanced Bigs and, most recently, reflections on the arrival of 'her' little:

'My new little arrives tomorrow... good. Nessa's been gone for three days and the place is getting cluttered. It's undignified to have to do the drudgery. It's not for our kind. Little Nessa used to clean for all of us; I could probably get a little on loan to tidy things, but I'd like to break the new one in with a few days worth of clutter. Tiffany says she might be a problem, but no matter (she wouldn't say quite how she'd be a problem). We've all agreed that we'll do what we have to do. I'm not about to let some tiny, doll-looking new bitch ruin our social order.'

Tiny, doll-looking new bitch? I almost tore the page out right there, but my more tactical instincts prevailed. I'd view it as a compliment - yes, I was tiny… but I also looked pretty and poised. I might not have a long-limbed supermodel frame, but I could cultivate a different kind of perfection that would threaten even the Bigs. Go little or go home! When I heard Marie padding back down the hallway, I leapt into my bed, pretended to be asleep, and endured about thirty seconds of her silent, withering gaze.

The next morning was a brand new day with brand new classes - the Junior, Beginner, and Advanced girls at St. Circe's were strictly stratified, with no classes shared between them (almost - Dr. Clay did one mixed class a week so we could practice with the whole choir). Extracurricular activities were usually mixed-group, but classes, meals, and dormitories were all separate. That meant new classes for Best Behavior, Physical Conditioning, and Voice... and my Biology of Reproduction class had been switched out for Upper Maths. This turned out to be a go-at-your-own-pace catch-all for students who were past multivariate calculus. The idea, I assume, was to familiarize us with the sorts of advanced notation and manipulation involved in magic, which could be a lot like math. In fact, I have come to suspect that there's a deep isomorphy between math and magic, just as there is between math and physics... and probably between physics and magic, thus completing the trifecta.

In any case, I had Upper Maths first thing in the morning after a very awkward breakfast, in which the Advanced littles were expected to wait hand and foot upon their Bigs before themselves retrieving their now-lukewarm meals. I'd already told Marie that I'd play along, but she'd have to extend the olive branch first… and she didn't, so I didn't.

"Hey, little," Tiffany said - she knew my name, but I suppose she thought I didn't deserve it. "The littles serve the Bigs for the whole breakfast - then you can get your food."

I shrugged. "That's not in my rule book. It's not in my behavior plan. It's not that hard to get a breakfast platter and utensils - be a fucking adult, Big."

By the time I got to Best Behavior after Upper Maths, I guess word had gotten around because Mrs. Bishop, my new teacher, was none too pleased. She called me up to the front of the classroom and had me change into my service uniform first thing, right then and there (déjà vu). I did so, of course, having long since lost the sense of shame at public underwear - it was Best Behavior class, after all.

"Don't you look pretty in that maid's uniform," Mrs. Bishop said. She was Ms. Sturm's opposite in many ways - dark skin, dark hair, and a mocha-brown pencil dress - but she was spiritual kin, stern and demanding. "Tell me, Natalie," she continued. "What is the purpose of the service uniform?"

Clothes, obviously... but what was she getting at? "Um... to show that you're ready to serve?"

"To show that you are ready to serve. Yes," Mrs. Bishop said. "I hear you didn't do a very good job of that this morning during breakfast."

"I..."

"You will speak when asked. I hear that you were obstinate and willful when the Advanced Bigs requested your service at breakfast," she said.

One of the girls had tattled - my guess would be Marie, but who knows? I waited for Mrs. Bishop to prompt me further.

"It is your place to obey your betters," she said. She pursed her glossy lips and regarded me - she was angry. "Do you disagree?"

"No, Mrs. Bishop," I said.

"Then why did you not obey the Bigs?"

"They are not my betters. My betters wouldn't be immature, entitled shits."

"I see," she said, her voice dropping to a quiet drone (bad news in my experience). "You and I will discuss your behavior plan with the headmistress after class."

We did so - right after class, in fact. The moment class ended, Mrs. Bishop led me, still in my service uniform, out of Masters Hall and over to the administration building to meet with the headmistress. She was in the middle of a meeting with Dr. Clay, so we dawdled for a few awkward minutes in the lobby. I kicked my little, white-socked, black-flats feet and tried to look as guiltless as possible. Mrs. Bishop tapped her snakeskin stilettos and notated her lesson plans, taking not-so-covert angry glances in my direction every minute or so.

When Headmistress Lily saw us in, she was the picture of composure, one thin and quizzical eyebrow arching up as Mrs. Bishop led me in.

"Oh my... trouble on the first day, is it, Mrs. Bishop? What has Natalie done?"

"It's more of what she hasn't done, headmistress - Natalie's conditioning to date has been wholly inadequate to complete her behavior plan. Despite her many and substantial punishments, Natalie clearly hasn't been properly shaped by Ms. Sturm and her Beginner instructors."

Lily tutted. "That is a problem, Mrs. Bishop. Can you give me a specific example so that I might understand you better?"

"Yes, of course. Upon arriving in her new dormitory, Natalie refused her roommate's request to clean the room and, at breakfast this morning, refused to serve breakfast to the Bigs..."

"Natalie, may I see your rule book?"

"Yes, headmistress." I rummaged through my bag, handing her my book, my fingers skimming past my edited behavior plan right next to it.

Lily flipped through it, nodding pensively. "I don't see anything in here about cleaning rooms and serving breakfast."

"No, nothing so specific. But, at this point in her plan, she should be obedient and humble enough to do as asked. She called the Advanced Bigs 'immature and haughty children'!"

"Immature, entitled shits," I corrected her.

"Let's take a look at Natalie's behavior plan, then, and see if there's anything we can do to rectify this problem, shall we?" Lily said. "I believe it's in Doctor Sauvage's office. Let's see if the doctor's in and all three of us will take a good look, shall we?"

As the two women left the room, the headmistress shot me a knowing look. Her meaning was obvious: I had until they returned to get things sorted. As soon as the door clicked shut, I scampered over to the secure cabinet - it was already unlocked - and retrieved my decoy plan. The pages within weren't secured to the spine, so I slipped them right into my bag and swapped them out with my edited copy. Of course, my behavior plan now had nothing securing it to its cover - very fishy. And I didn't have any way to bind it in the minute or so I had available. Would the headmistress call me on it? With Mrs. Bishop present, she might have to...

Unless... I did know a spell. Cassie had shown me her trick for getting clothes to fit instantly. Presumably, the school used the same trick on our uniforms. And, she showed me, it could even repair rips and tears (within reason) if the frayed fabric was still in place. I plucked a hair from my head, stuffed it between the pages and the spine, and recited the symbols. And it worked! Not very well - the pages were a bit loose in the spine, but at least they were properly bound. I dashed back to the cabinet, hopped up to slide my book into the shelf, clicked the cabinet door locked, and slipped back to my seat just as the headmistress and Mrs. Bishop were returning.

"I do feel silly about that," Lily said to Mrs. Bishop. "I keep special disciplinary cases in my own cabinet. I'd completely forgot that Natalie has the dubious distinction of belonging in there."

"Not a worry - I haven't got a class this period... I was actually going to give some attention to Natalie's lesson plans."

"Good, good... ah! Here it is: 'Behavior Plan - Natalie Bryce', right where it's supposed to be. Let's see what we can add, shall we?"

They discussed the new punishment rule right in front of me, as if I wasn't there. And, to be fair, I shouldn't have understood most of the intermediate magics they were talking about. I did, but I shouldn't have. The new punishment plan, to be instituted by my Advanced classes teachers, would leave me (or my body, at least) more sensitive to magic and sensitize my body's fear response... and, being of the body, these were things that could work whether or not my mind was resistant. Not good...

"Do you find these rules to your liking, Mrs. Bishop?"

Mrs. Bishop examined the symbology and nodded, her dark eyes twinkling with something like anticipation. "I think this will work to our benefit."

"Good. Let's seal the new rule, then. We need two faculty signatures to seal the rule..." Lily glanced around her desk. "I've misplaced my ensorcelled pen... hm... I brought it to Sauvage's office. I think. Will you please check for me while I check the lounge?"

"Of course, headmistress."

The two women left the room... again. What a lucky break, eh? I had only enough time for a quick glance at the symbology that Lily had committed to paper. What in the world could I do in a minute? It would take me an hour to unravel what Lily had spent about five minutes detailing in her exacting script. But... I saw an opening. I could just sketch in two little symbols - a tesseract and a hyperloop, essentially - and it would reverse the valence of the entire rule, essentially doing the opposite of the intended effect. Less sensitive to magic and less sensitive to fear... was that a good thing or not? Would it affect my magical talents? Would the stacked effects render me unable to respond in an actual emergency? Would... there was no time. I scrawled in the shapes as quickly-but-accurately as I could and returned to my chair, hands in my lap, my big emerald eyes uncertain and innocent.

"I'm sure I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached," Lily laughed. "So let's commit this rule to little Natalie's book..." she glanced at me about a second longer than she had to. "I'll give her something to think about right here, and I'm sure we won't have any further problems with her. And, if we do, we can always revisit the issue."

+++++

After five more swats on the butt and another dose of tats and pink hair (and... did I see a little definition in my abs?), Headmistress Lily's message to me was clear enough: she was on my side, but I wasn't to poke the hornet's nest. I would have to fall in line. So, looking suitably chastened, I returned to my classes, to the rest of my school day, and then to dinner.

Dinner for the Advanced girls was no different than breakfast: the littles were expected to wait on the Bigs until they were finished, and only then were they to eat. I swallowed my pride and did so, donning my service uniform and serving Marie with a downcast gaze.

"Don't fuck with us, little," she said. "Informing the faculty of your little fuck-ups is us being nice. That's your only warning."

After forty minutes or so, they'd finished and we littles were allowed to eat our own meals. I was, it appears, a bit of a persona non grata, and they were all hesitant to speak to me, and I  grasped the enormity of a fully-executed behavior plan for a little: they were all terrified of punishment. Some of them seemed hesitant to speak at all.

My further experience led me to conclude that the Advanced littles seemed to belong to one of two groups: quiet and competent, happy to quietly converse if prompted (suitable as obedient housewives, maids, or assistants, I supposed), and the hopelessly meek and submissive, reluctant to speak even to a fellow little (I hesitate to think about what they were being groomed for, as they would be forever and utterly dependent in the real world).

"You don't want to make them mad," Gabriella said - a pretty and petite Cuban girl, she was one of the quiet-competent types and one of Nurse Argent's assistants. "Nessa made them mad - they did things to her, the Bigs did... took her punishment into their own hands. She wasn't the same after."

"What punishment?" I asked. "Magic?"

Gabriella nodded. "They're witches." She crossed herself.

I didn't need her to tell me that - I knew that the Bigs were all learning witchcraft. And so was I. And, from what I could tell, I was pretty good at it. Maybe I'd let that get to my head. Maybe I'd let the arrogant bit of Martin Warner resurface - going through my degree in mathematical economics summa cum laude with hardly a day's studying, putting in my forty hours a week at Vobis Finance and vaulting ahead of guys burning themselves out at seventy hours a week. I'd been a cocky motherfucker, and my inclinations still trended that way. I'd have to ignore my instincts and tread lightly.

When I returned to my room after my evening tutoring in A010, Marie von Schurr was readying for the shower. Our room, of course, was still a mess. She'd even moved some things back onto my desk and bed.

"I expect this room to be clean when I get back," she said. She tossed her hair, jaw-length and chestnut-brown. "If it's not, we'll have a problem."

She left, and I got to cleaning. Rather, I cleaned my side of the room, dumping all of the offending items onto her bed. I knew it was a bad idea, that I was ignoring my own advice to tread lightly, but I'd just waited on her at dinner like a simpering servant and Marie was so fucking full of herself that I couldn't let it go. I'd tow Lily's line in public, but in private, no entitled bitch of a Big was going to boss me around. Marie was understandably upset when she padded back into the room in her robe and found her side of the room very much a mess.

"Do you think this is funny, little?" she stepped onto my side of the room, as delineated by her several piles of magazines and books.

"I don't," I said. "My name isn't 'little'. It's Natalie. After a long talk with the headmistress, I've decided to offer a compromise. I'll play nice in public... it will smooth things over. I'll curtsy and serve you at meals - you can save face. But I will not be a servant in my own room... and if word of this arrangement gets out, I'll know it was you. Please keep that in mind."

Marie laughed. She took another step toward my bed - too close for comfort, really. Range for a Cassie-style amazon death hug - or, in Marie von Schurr's case, maybe just an old-fashioned little roommate beat-down. "Do you know what I could do to you?" she said.

I had a feeling she wasn't referring to the beat-down. "I have an idea," I said with a smirk. Then I traced the symbols on the palm of my hand and crushed the little downy feather I'd taken from my pillow. "Silence," I said, and everything was silent.

Marie tried to say something - and, of course, couldn't. I couldn't say anything, either, but I'm not sure she knew that. I'd just silenced everything within a few meters, everything on my side of the room and a bit into hers. Whoever lived next to us might have gotten a little of the radius, too (oops). The vexed confusion on Marie's aristocratic face turned into surprise when I showed her the book I'd been perusing: 'The Minor Rituals' by G.F. Bloom. Don't fuck with me, I mouthed.

With Marie still looking on in silent shock, I went for my own shower and returned to see Marie cleaning her side of the room. Her frowning gaze was venomous, but she said nothing. I went to sleep in silence (literally - the spell probably had a few hours to go) and awoke in the morning for my magic tutoring with Marie's side tidy and her still soundly asleep. Had we reached an understanding? Not by a long shot.