Freya bit her lip anxiously, checking the room one last time. She’d been preparing for her final exam for days, with her girlfriend’s invaluable help. Now everything was in place - she was as ready as she ever could be. The one thing she couldn’t control was her own nerves.

She imagined that’d be the case for anyone, though. This was the culmination of a Hexbourne student’s seven years of magical study and practice, which would likely determine the path the rest of their life took. Or at least, half the culmination - they’d taken the theory test the previous week. Freya was confident she’d nailed it - although, at the same time, vague doubts and concerns plagued the back of her mind. What if she’d screwed up a vital question, and dropped a grade below where she should’ve been? What if she messed up this practical exam now, and embarrassed herself in front of everyone?

They were just insecurities, she insisted to herself, irrational and irrelevant. She had nothing to worry about. She knew that. She’d set up the exam room just how she wanted it, with some ideas she hoped would suitably surprise the examiners. She was ready to show them the best magic she had - to be the best witch she could be. Her fears weren’t going to hold her back.

If only she could be enthralled during this, she considered briefly, a slightly wistful smile crossing her face. Emerald was always so cheerful and carefree under its influence, incapable of second-guessing anything she did or said. Freya knew just how wonderful it felt to be hexed - and not just from observing her girlfriend.

She’d never told Emerald this, but in her own class on the enthralment hex, Freya had volunteered to be Professor Finn’s test subject of her own volition, out of sheer, bold curiosity. Given her popularity and her formidable sorcery skills, no-one had dared to humiliate her the way he and Livi had humiliated Emerald - which was most of the reason she’d never admitted it. She felt a little guilty that they hadn’t been treated the same, because of their differing social status.

So Freya knew first-hand how it felt to be enthralled, happily empty-headed, eagerly compliant and guilelessly confident. But even if it had been practical for her to be hexed during her final exam - and it wasn’t, since she didn’t trust anyone to enchant her except her powerless partner - it wasn’t sensible. She needed to be in control of her faculties throughout the test. And it wasn’t allowed, anyway. Enchantments, spells and items to alter a student’s mind or increase their magical potency were strictly forbidden.

She’d just have to stifle her misgivings, and rely on her considerable talents and the preparations she’d made beforehand. That’d be enough. Of course it’d be enough.

All too soon, the door opened and three tall figures strode through, each clad in flowing robes of a different colour. Professor Fleming led the way, the dark-skinned American woman wearing navy blue. She was followed by Professor Jiemba, an older Aboriginal man with a short greying beard, whose own garments were emerald green, which Freya decided to think of as a good omen. Lastly came Professor Weaver, the school’s Principal, a middle-aged white woman with a severe blonde haircut and robes of royal purple.

Swallowing hard, Freya spoke as clearly and confidently as she could as the teachers glanced around the near-empty classroom. “Welcome, Professors. Please, take a seat.”

The examiners regarded her impassively, before making their way to the seats she’d set out in the middle of the room. Students taking the practical exam were given time to prepare the chamber however they chose. Freya had cleared all the student’s desks from the room, and had left the teachers with two ordinary wooden chairs and a sturdy bench. If they were confused by her choices, they didn’t show it. Fleming sat on the bench, while Weaver and Jiemba took the chairs.

“Let’s begin then, Miss Travers,” Weaver said brusquely. Without further ado, she produced a marble in the palm of her hand, seemingly (and quite possibly literally) from thin air, and threw it straight at Freya’s face.

Luckily, Freya anticipated this. The exam always involved a test of reflexes, to prove whether a student would be ready for a magical attack in real life. Her hands were already raised, one covering the other, and the instant the marble took flight, she dropped her left hand and fired a beam of bright blue light that struck it in mid-air, freezing it in place.

The Principal’s eyebrow twitched microscopically, perhaps acknowledging Freya’s quick reaction. But that wouldn’t be enough to really impress her. Weaver specialised in transfiguration - she was perhaps the most skilled shapeshifter in Australia. She was probably expecting Freya to transform the glass sphere into something different.

When you were taught transfiguration, one of the first rules is that it was always easier to turn an object into something of a similar shape and size. It was less of a strain on the laws of physics, and expended less of the spellcaster’s energy. If someone happened to throw a marble at a sorcerer in the street, their natural reaction would probably be to turn it into a bee, or a fly. That was the obvious solution.

But no-one earned an exceptional score with obvious solutions.

Concentrating for a moment, Freya flexed the finger wearing her glowing lapis ring. The marble began to morph and distort, doubling in size, sprouting legs, wings, a beaked head, and bright yellow feathers. Free of the stasis field that had held it suspended in the air, the Australian plainhead canary fluttered back across the room, chirping quietly, and came to rest on the arm of Weaver’s chair.

The Principal nodded slightly, her expression one of unruffled interest, as if she was making notes on the clipboard she didn’t have. “Good, Miss Travers. Professor Fleming?”

Rising from the bench, Fleming strode across the room to the teacher’s desk at the front. Reaching up her sleeve, she drew out three items that definitely couldn’t have remained securely stored up there without some magical assistance, setting them down on the wooden surface. Freya glanced around the teacher and saw an obsidian statuette of a nude man with two snakes encircling his lower half like a caduceus, an ornate bronze cube made up of smaller squares like the fanciest Rubik’s cube she ever saw, and a stuffed toy penguin.

Fleming faced her. “Which of these objects is not what they seem?”

Ah, so this was a test of her intuition - her ability to see past external appearances, and divine the true nature and power of a thing. Freya couldn’t help smirking just a little bit, once the Professor had turned away and no-one could see her face. This felt a little ironic, for reasons she couldn’t wait to reveal.

She approached the desk, studying each object intently as she called upon her metaphorical third eye, her perception enhanced by the magic that flowed through her veins. Her hand reached out, almost of its own accord, an index finger extending and, guided by her increased insight, pointing at the object she knew to be entirely other than what it appeared to be.

“Correct,” Fleming confirmed smoothly, reaching out to pluck the penguin from the desk. As Freya watched, the stuffie came to life and sprang lithely along the examiner’s arm, perching on her shoulder. “My familiar, Garry,” she said dismissively as she picked up her other two items and returned to the bench, as if no further explanation was needed.

To be fair, that answered any questions Freya would’ve had. Fleming was from the US, where the Ritual of the Familiar was still legal. It’d been outlawed in Australia almost a century ago, but American warlocks who travelled to Australia were permitted to bring their companions with them, provided they filled out forms to register them. Familiars still had no legal personhood, but their presence was recorded regardless by the Australian Grand Council.

Jiemba spoke at last. “Now, Miss Travers, you were tasked beforehand with conjuring an illusion. Something within this room that is not what it appears to be. Have you done so?”

Freya stifled her smirk once more. “I have, Professor.”

“Hmm.” He began scrutinising his surroundings more closely than before, calling upon his own instincts to lead him to the deception. Freya watched with building excitement as the seconds ticked by, certain that her plan had paid off.

The seconds turned to minutes. As Weaver and Fleming spectated, their inscrutable façades started to waver for the first time, blinking and exchanging glances as their learned colleague continued his search without success. Jiemba’s stare grew more and more intense, his frown deepening as he looked over every shelf, every book, every picture frame on the wall, every candlestick (of which there were two, tall black ones in the corner, for decorative purposes).

Finally, he spun around with a disbelieving smile. “I’m impressed, Miss Travers,” he admitted. “I have failed to find your illusion. Do tell me, please - what in this room is not what it seems to be?”

“The room itself,” Freya said, unable to keep the triumphant grin off her face any longer. “We’re in the wrong place.”

Jiemba’s eyebrows shot up. He shot a glance at his colleagues, who looked nonplussed. “What do you mean, exactly, Miss Travers?” he asked tentatively.

Striding to the door, Freya pulled it open, revealing the corridor outside. Then she brandished her glowing ring - and the corridor vanished, as if folding in on itself, to be replaced by another, completely different corridor.

“A portal,” Weaver exhaled.

“I found another classroom that wasn’t being used during my exam time, set it up just as I would’ve done the exam room, and opened a portal in the doorway just before you came in,” Freya explained. “Luckily, the rooms look pretty much identical. I thought about glamouring some of the stuff in here so it looked exactly the same, but I figured if I did that it’d divert from the actual ‘illusion’.” As the examiners exchanged another look, she hastily added, “I know this isn’t technically what you were asking for, but I read the exam rules clearly. There’s nothing to suggest an illusion has to be a glamour, or transfiguration - that I couldn’t trick you into thinking you were somewhere that you weren’t.”

“I’m prepared to concede that,” Jiemba said with a wry smile. “Good loophole, Miss Travers. And an impressive use of portal magic, might I add. So seamless that I didn’t sense the transition - did you, Professors?”

Fleming shook her head. Weaver remained straight-faced, but Freya was sure she’d even managed to catch the Principal out. She wanted to punch the air. She’d pulled off the riskiest part of her plan. And the best thing was, it wasn’t even the last surprise she had in store.

“Well, this is the part where you would have your chance to demonstrate your proficiency in a spell of your choice,” Weaver remarked, “but I’d say the portal already covers that criteria. If you’re satisfied, Miss Travers, we can bring this examination to an end.”

“Of course, Professor,” Freya nodded, offering Fleming a hand up from the bench, which the American teacher accepted with a small smile. As Weaver also began to rise to her feet, Freya said suddenly, “Oh, there was just one more thing I wanted to show you, actually.”

She stepped away from Fleming, circling around the bench, and gestured to the sturdy seat. “Comfortable, isn’t it?”

Fleming arched an eyebrow. “For a bench, yes.”

“Oh, it’s not a bench,” Freya said nonchalantly. “It’s my girlfriend.”

Fleming’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

The young witch couldn’t help grinning gleefully at the thunderstruck expressions on all three examiners’ faces. Summoning up the rest of her magical reserves, she cast one more spell to reverse the transfiguration hex. As the Professors watched, mahogany morphed back into flesh and fabric, the curved ends becoming the bowed head and protruding rear of Emerald Kane, the four legs of the seat reverting to her human limbs. Panting with apparent exertion, she glanced up at the Professors through her dishevelled hair, blushed deeply, and sat back on her haunches, unable to meet anyone’s eye.

“Just to be clear, she consented to this completely,” Freya hurriedly told the teachers, drawing a rolled-up piece of paper out of her jacket pocket. “And I have a form to prove it, she signed it earlier.” Weaver stepped forwards at once and took the contract from her, surveying it with narrowed eyes.

“I did,” Emerald piped up, scrambling to her feet in her haste to support her girlfriend. “Freya had this great idea, and I just wanted to help. That’s OK, isn’t it? I mean, I studied the rules and regulations too, and using a human test subject is permissible as long as full consent’s given...”

Weaver held up a hand, and Emerald fell silent. “Your consent is accepted, Miss Kane.” The Principal returned her attention to Freya. “I think, if my colleagues are satisfied, we’ve seen all we need to, Miss Travers.”

With that, she swept out of the room. Fleming followed closely, but Jiemba lingered long enough to give a congratulatory nod, a smile, and a quiet, “Well done.”

Once all three had left the room, Freya whirled round to face her girlfriend, a squeal of ecstasy building up inside her until it broke free in a joyous outburst. Emerald looked similarly elated, dashing forwards to clasp both her partner’s hands, a proud smile adorning her face.

“That was amazing!” Freya cried, flinging her arms around Emerald and pulling her into a tight hug. “You were amazing!”

“Me? I didn’t do anything really,” Emerald giggled. “You were fucking incredible. You’ve absolutely earned top of the year, they’d be insane to give you anything less. I was just your prop, your test dummy. After you turned me, there wasn’t much else I could do...!”

“I know, but you - you volunteered to do it, I mean, it was your fucking idea in the first place!” This was true enough, but Emerald had worried the examiners would dock Freya points if they knew that, so she’d claimed it was Freya’s idea. “And you helped set up, and you - you were there for me...” She cradled her plaything’s face, gazing adoringly into her eyes. “Just having you here was such a huge comfort. Having you in the room, close to me, made me feel so much better. Thank you so much...”

Her property’s eyes shone like her namesake jewels. “Any time,” she whispered ardently. “Anything. Ever. I’m yours.”

“I know.” Freya beamed. “You’re such a good prop. A good test dummy, who might’ve just gotten me the top grade for our whole year.” Reaching behind Emerald and up the back of her skirt, she gave her butt a squeeze, making her squeak. “And good dummies get rewarded,” she promised her.

Emerald swallowed, her eyes wide. “I’m so glad you found an empty classroom near my dorm,” she murmured. “Shall we...?”

“You bet, bench,” Freya grinned, making her plaything splutter with laughter as they turned and strolled towards the open door, an arm around each other’s shoulders.

***

“C’mon Freya,” Emerald gently urged her girlfriend from across her dorm room, compulsively smoothing down the front of her long black dress robes. “Let’s get there early, grab some good seats.”

“Two minutes,” Freya answered as she buttoned her white shirt, and then added in the same tone, “Flash on.”

“I’m thinking, like, the second or third row from the front,” the brunette mused, as she untied the front of her robes and pulled them apart. “Close enough that we can get up to the stage pretty quickly if they announce our names, but not right at the front like we’re expecting to be called, because that’ll just make us look smug.” With one hand, she pulled her shirt and bra up until they reached her chin, baring her breasts, while the other reached under her skirt and fished her genitals out of her panties. Her prick poked through the plaid folds as she cradled her balls in her palm.

“You might be overthinking this,” Freya smirked as she finally finished doing up her shirt and slowly reached for her skirt, which was splayed out on the bed on top of her robes. Her eyes appeared fixed onto her girlfriend, which was a bit annoying given the urgency Emerald felt. She tapped her foot anxiously, wishing Freya would stop getting distracted and hurry up.

“I always overthink,” she reminded her partner with a wry grin, hoping to conceal her impatience with some levity. “Except when you stop me, that is...”

“Too true,” Freya sniggered, struggling to secure her skirt around her waist as she kept staring.

Emerald suppressed a groan. “Babe, I’m flattered by the attention, but seriously, please hurry up. This is our leavers’ assembly - it actually is important to get there on time. Ahead of time, if we can...”

“OK, OK,” the blonde sorceress chuckled, finally tearing her eyes away. “Sorry, I sometimes can’t help admiring my pretty property.” As Emerald blushed, Freya pinned the skirt in place, grabbed her robes and wrapped them around herself.

“Thank you,” Emerald sighed with relief. “Now let’s get going.”

The second Freya had her flowing ebony garments tied shut, Emerald turned and reached for the door handle. But before she could take hold of it, Freya blurted, “Flash off!”

Her eyes widening in realisation, she hastily yanked her shirt down and her panties up, before clapping her hands over her reddening face and dissolving into mortified giggles. Freya cackled heartily in the near distance.

“You suck,” the submissive whimpered through her fingers.

“I will later,” Freya teased, earning a plaintive squeak. “Now, weren’t you saying something about getting there early? We’d better get moving, precious!”

Grumbling under her breath, Emerald nevertheless let her owner prise one of her hands from her face, hold it tightly, and lead her out of the dorm room, fumbling to re-tie her robes with her free hand. She shot her Mistress a sulky look, but it crumbled almost immediately, a scandalised smile breaking through, and she quickly averted her gaze from her girlfriend’s smug grin.

New rune. Now Freya could make her flash at any time, without even realising she was doing it. Fuck, that was humiliating... and so, so hot. Emerald thanked the Goddess that her thick robes were concealing her raging hard-on - she didn’t think her humble skirt was up to the challenge right now!

It was Wednesday 16^th April, the week after their practical exams, and the last day of term. For the elder seventh-years, it was their final ever day at Hexbourne Academy. They were to be seen off with one final assembly, with the entire school in attendance. Though the seniors usually sat at the back of the Great Hall, today they would be seated in the front few rows, visible to the rest of the student body as they marked their departure from the prestigious school of sorcery.

Arousal still coursing through her, Emerald trailed behind her as they entered the hall and made their way to the front, taking two adjacent chairs near the end of the second row, just as she’d hoped. Her peers started to sit in the surrounding seats - Juniper on Emerald’s left with Hannah on their other side, and Jay on Freya’s right - and her erection ebbed as the gravity of the occasion settled on her once more.

She exchanged nervous grins with her classmates, who smiled back at her warmly. It occurred to her just how remarkable that was. This time the previous year, Hannah, Juniper and Jay barely spoke to her, and probably rarely thought about her, except to pity her as an object of much ridicule among their year group. Now they were almost her friends. It was all because of Freya, of course, her high social standing elevating Emerald - otherwise, the trio would probably remain mostly indifferent to her (albeit not in a malicious way). Still, the thought that she might not see them again made her a little sad.

Her attention was diverted by Professor Weaver stepping onto the stage, followed by the other teachers. Fleming and Jiemba each held a scroll, which, Emerald knew from previous leavers’ assemblies, recorded the names of the top three outgoing students, as determined by their final exams. Every graduate’s results would be waiting for them in sealed envelopes when they returned to their dormitories afterwards, but the three highest-scoring in the theoretical and practical exams would be announced during the assembly.

She felt goosebumps on her skin, her anxiety bubbling to the surface once more. She hadn’t been able to sit the practical exam, for obvious reasons. The rare few students who still couldn’t produce so much as a spark by the end of their seventh year were spared the indignity of having to prove their lack of magical prowess. But she just had to have done well at the theory paper. Freya had told her time and time again that she’d finish top of the year - but Emerald couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it. Someone as magically inadequate as her, top of the year? Even in the academic side of things? How could that be allowed?

She was certain she knew more about magic than anyone else in her year, and she did feel as though this came across in her answers - but what if her own nerves had gotten the better of her? What if she’d made a mistake - what if she’d got something wrong, or missed some crucial detail that cost her a point? Oh, she couldn’t bear that. She had to be in the top three for the theory, if not in first place itself. This was her last chance to prove herself, to prove that Hexbourne’s tuition hadn’t been wasted on her, as some of her peers (mostly Livi and her cronies) had often inferred. It was all she had, all she could take away from her time at the school, other than years of misery at her own incompetence, and the relentless harassment of her classmates.

Perhaps sensing her anxiety, Freya squeezed her hand, and gave her a reassuring smile. That was all it took to settle her. She smiled back, gratitude surging through her.

She was being stupid, she knew that. She most likely had made it into the top three. But even if she didn’t, this wasn’t all she would take away from Hexbourne. She had Freya. And that was, if anything, more important. Her beautiful, compassionate, dastardly, dominant girlfriend was worth more than her grades, more than getting top marks among the outgoing students, more than the culmination of over seven years’ magical education. She’d rip up her results if her Mistress told her to. No future that her qualifications earned her (and options were limited in the magical world for someone as powerless as her) could be as rewarding as a lifetime under Freya’s heel, as her cushion, or her footstool, or her bench.

Thoughts of being a bench naturally drew her mind back to the previous week, her cheeks growing warm and her mouth twitching into a small, secretive smile. There was one detail she and Freya had omitted when they’d spoken to the examiners after she’d reverted to normal - well, one detail other than misleading them about whose idea it was. Although Emerald had suggested the spell in the first place, and offered herself up as its object (literally), she’d had a little last-minute apprehension about doing it. She knew nothing would could wrong - Freya was most definitely powerful enough, and accomplished enough, to perform hexes of this complexity. And she was more than willing to do it - she was eager. The idea of becoming a genuine object turned her on desperately. She’d thought about it, on and off, for the last six months, ever since she’d been commanded to act as Livi’s bench in the lesson when she’d been enthralled for the first time (and it was a source of some glee for both of them that their erstwhile nemesis had ironically inspired the idea that might’ve secured Freya the top grade).

But when the moment came for Emerald to undergo the transformation, nerves hit her. And that frustrated her. She didn’t want her own irrational emotions to get in the way of her girlfriend’s success. Luckily, although the student taking the exam was forbidden from being under any kind of enchantment, there was nothing stopping Freya from enthralling her test dummy. And once Emerald was incapable of feeling anything but cheerful compliance, nothing hindered her Mistress from ordering her onto all fours and transfiguring her into a motionless wooden chair.

She’d been too mindless at the time to appreciate it, but she recalled how the transformation felt with perfect clarity. The vivid memories had been playing at the back of her mind for the last week - her hands morphing and shrinking into the bench’s knobbly wooden feet; her limbs shortening beneath her, growing rigid and ramrod straight; her torso stiffening, flattening, becoming a thick wooden plank; her back softening slightly so it could be sat on with a relative degree of comfort; her thick ass and throbbing dick retracting until they were absorbed into the seat... Most surreal of all, her head, squishing and shrivelling and folding in on itself, until it became nothing more than an extra metre of mahogany, indistinguishable from the rest of the seat. In less than a minute, Emerald Kane had become a bench. Unmoving, unwavering, incapable of doing anything for itself. Just furniture, there to be used as her owner saw fit.

And fuck, even without the equipment to express it, she’d never been more turned on. The arousal coursed through her static frame endlessly, feeding back into itself, with no means of escape.

Though she lacked eyes and ears, or a brain, Emerald could perceive her surroundings clearly, thanks to the awareness spell Freya layered on top of the transfiguration hex - which had the added effect of dispelling the enthralment hex, so she could also think clearly. Thinking was now the only thing she could do, apart from observing. So she had plenty of time to ponder how she’d been thoroughly, voluntarily dehumanised, and now couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. She was just a bench now. Benches didn’t do anything except get sat on.

And oh dear Goddess, the feeling of being sat on... Emerald bit her lip and crossed her legs at the memory of it, even though her hardness was well hidden beneath layers of robes. She’d always had a little bit of a crush on Professor Fleming - she’d be surprised if she was the only one who fancied the lithe, elegant American teacher with the rich, dark skin - but she’d never imagined feeling her rear planted firmly on her back, the warmth of her supple butt cheeks spreading through her wooden surface. It was... euphoria. And the longer the Professor’s weight bore down on her unyielding form, the better it felt...

Freya squeezed her hand again, and she glanced to her right to see her partner grinning at her. There was something knowing about that smirk, as if she was perfectly aware of what Emerald was thinking about. (Maybe she was. Telepathy was college level, but there was every chance Freya had learned it on her own and kept it secret, even from her precious property. Especially from her precious property, to toy with her...)

Emerald blushed, averting her eyes. Several times in the last week, she’d been caught reminiscing about her experiences. Freya would notice her dreamy expression and ask, “What are you thinking about, precious?” Emerald could have lied, but the compulsion to obey, to reveal everything to her Mistress, to give her everything she wanted including her most private thoughts, was too strong. And once she confessed to turning herself on with the memories of being a bench, Freya would make her sit and masturbate to those memories while she watched.

Each and every time.

All the while, she’d tell Emerald she was such a good bench, such a useful piece of furniture, such a dumb lump of wood, just mindless mahogany - and make her repeat everything she said back to her. “I’m a good bench,” Emerald would sob as she jerked off ever more frantically. “I’m a dumb lump of wood. I’m mindless mahogany...!”

And of course, she didn’t get to cum. Her orgasms belonged to Freya, and Freya rarely let her cum when she was capable of conscious thought.

So demeaning. So exposing. So cruel. Emerald couldn’t wait to be put through that torment again.

But this wasn’t the time. With some considerable effort, Emerald dragged her mind back to the here and now. Weaver had been speaking for several minutes already, a barely-tweaked version of the same speech she gave at the leavers’ assembly every year. Emerald shivered with anticipation as the Principal brought her speech to a close, before stepping back and handing over to her two esteemed colleagues to announce the names on their scrolls.

Clearing her throat, Fleming unfurled her scroll. “Congratulations to all students who took part in the practical examinations,” she proclaimed, her voice carrying clearly across the huge, packed hall. “This year saw some of our finest results in years. You should all be extraordinarily proud of yourselves. That said, three of your number acquitted yourselves even better than your peers, displaying extraordinary magical power and proficiency.”

She left a brief but weighty pause to build the suspense, and then continued, “The graduating student with the third highest results in practical sorcery is Olivia Sharma.”

There was a moment’s silence, then applause broke out across the hall. The clapping was certainly loud, since almost everyone in attendance took part - but it didn’t seem as uproarious as it could have been. Emerald knew she wasn’t the only one who’d suffered at Livi’s hands, and the fear and loathing that many felt towards the powerful student had been replaced by just loathing ever since she and her henchwitches had been humiliated by Freya the previous autumn. With Livi’s reputation and ability to intimidate damaged perhaps beyond repair, none of her former friends or victims felt the need to show her much support.

There could be another explanation for the subdued reaction - many might had been surprised by the results, given that Livi had been top of the year group almost every prior year. Then again, just as the critical hits to her ego and her popularity had caused her to largely isolate herself from her classmates, there was a good chance her grades had suffered too. Not fatally - she was still the third most talented out of almost fifty graduating sorcerers - but she wasn’t top of the year, as she’d always expected to be.

She certainly looked dejected as she made her way to the stage, though she appeared to force a smile as she shook hands with Fleming and Weaver. She went to stand on one side of the podium, holding her head high and her posture unnaturally straight, keeping the fixed smile on her face. Despite everything, Emerald couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Did even Livi deserve to be ostracised the way she had been in the last six months?

Then again, did Emerald deserve to be tortured by her for almost seven years? Perhaps now Livi had been on the other side, she’d be kinder and more empathetic to those less powerful than her. She was clearly a great witch - maybe now she could also be a good one.

Emerald’s attention was torn away from her former tormenter as Fleming cleared her throat again, the hall falling silent at the sound. “The student in second place is Hannah Gibson.”

There was a delighted shriek from Emerald’s left, as Hannah sprang to her feet, flapping her hands at her face to stop the overjoyed tears welling up in her eyes. Juniper stood too, wrapping their arms around their girlfriend, and the applause, already warmer this time around, grew more enthusiastic at the sight. Disentangling herself from her partner and regaining her composure, Hannah scurried onstage and profusely thanked the teachers.

Emerald clapped as heartily as the rest, shooting a glance at Freya as she did so. Was that anxiety on her normally confident girlfriend’s face? She put a hand on Freya’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring rub, and got a grateful grin in response. There was no doubt in Emerald’s mind that her powerful partner had claimed first place, but if she was worried about her results on the theoretical side, she was sure Freya was feeling similar fears.

As Hannah moved to stand next to Livi, a hush descended. Fleming spoke again.

“In first place, top of our graduating class in practical magic... is Freya Travers.”

Deafening applause and cheers filled the cavernous chamber as Freya climbed unsteadily to her feet, breathing heavily. Emerald rose at the same time, taking her girlfriend’s hand and putting her other hand on her back, as if to hold her up. The announcement, inevitable though it might have seemed, appeared to have knocked the stuffing out of her, relief and triumph totally overwhelming her.

But Freya was nothing if not resilient, and within seconds she was standing up straight, smiling jubilantly. She spared a moment to lean in and give Emerald a sweet kiss on the lips, which met as keen a reaction from their peers as Hannah and Juniper’s embrace. Beaming proudly, Emerald watched her girlfriend stride up to the stage, where she gratefully clasped hands with her examiners.

The applause took some time to die down, as the student body took the opportunity to show their support for and adoration of the popular witch. Freya’s eyes shone with emotion as she stood beside Hannah, evidently moved by the clamorous reaction to her victory.

At last things settled down again, those few who had given a standing ovation returning to their seats - with Emerald among them. The American Magus stepped back, allowing Professor Jiemba to take the foreground, unrolling his own parchment.

“In third place for our theoretical magic examination,” he declared, “is, once again, Olivia Sharma.”

Another smattering of applause, as Livi strode stiffly across to shake hands with Jiemba, before returning to her previous position.

“Second place goes to...” The Aboriginal Professor paused dramatically for a moment, before concluding, “Freya Travers!”

The audience erupted once more. Freya looked like she was about to pass out. Emerald thought her face might split open from smiling, and her hands might fall off from clapping. Although an overall highest-marking student was never officially declared, her girlfriend’s superior results in both exams indisputably put her top of the year - as long as Hannah didn’t come first in the theory. Now Emerald had another reason to hope for her own victory.

Silence fell at last, once the student body had finished showing their appreciation for the greatest witch among them. Jiemba cleared his throat, preparing to speak again.

A shiver of apprehension went through Emerald. Her heart was trying to punch its way out of her chest. Almost unconsciously, she crossed the fingers of one hand, and tapped the wooden surface of the pew beneath her with the other.

Please, Goddess, she prayed silently. Please, just give me this.

“In first place - with the best results of all our graduating students in theoretical sorcery...”

Please...

“... is Emerald Kane.”

Emerald thought she’d imagined it for a moment - that she’d been so desperate for her heartfelt wish to come true, picturing it so vividly, that she’d heard what she wanted to hear.

Then she saw Freya screaming, jumping up and down and punching the air, Hannah whooping and clapping next to her, and she heard clamourous cheering from either side of her as Jay and Juniper joined in.

I did it, she realised. I actually won. She was too astonished even to react outwardly, staring dazedly into space as Juniper clapped her hard on the shoulder.

Caught up in the top two students’ enthusiasm, the rest of the students started to applaud as well, starting relatively restrained. Clearly, many of them didn’t have a clue who Emerald even was, and those who did mostly knew her as a weirdo loser who couldn’t magic her way out of a paper bag. But they built up their celebrations more and more by the moment as they followed Freya’s ecstatic example, until the vast majority of them were hooting and hollering, shouting and stamping their feet, raising the roof for this powerless, unpopular nonentity, who had just proven herself the most knowledgeable magician of them all - even more so than Freya.

Emerald didn’t remember getting up from her seat - she blacked out and found herself standing, Juniper’s hand on her back, having clearly helped her to her feet, just as she herself had held Freya up. She wandered up to the stage as if sleepwalking, and could barely find the presence of mind to stammer her thanks as Professor Jiemba and Principal Weaver shook hands with her. She half expected to wake up in the audience at any moment and see Hannah being congratulated for the win instead.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, she moved over to join her partner, who was beaming with joy and pride. “You did it!” Freya cried as she rushed to embrace her, peppering her face with kisses. “You did it you did it you did it I knew you’d do it see I was right of course you did it you’re perfect you fucking did it!” Blushing, Emerald buried her face in her lover’s shoulder and let her squeeze her tightly, feeling herself tearing up.

The girlfriends finally broke apart at the sound of the Principal’s voice, standing side by side and facing forwards as they made an effort to listen, despite their mutual euphoria over their successes.

“We do have one more accolade to announce,” Weaver pronounced. “Professors Jiemba, Fleming and I feel it is fair to acknowledge the role one student played in another practical exam. The pupil in question was not able to sit the practical themself, but they played a key role in their classmate’s own demonstration. It is also worth noting, my colleagues and I have agreed, that had this student been capable of taking the exam, they would likely have finished in a high-ranking position themself, due to their superior knowledge.”

Emerald was too still overwhelmed from coming top in the theory exam to process Weaver’s words, but Freya gasped and grabbed her shoulder, gripping tightly.

“As such, my fellow examiners and I have taken the decision to award special credit for the practical exam to Emerald Kane.”

Emerald couldn’t have been more stunned if she’d been hit in the forehead with a hammer. She shot a dumbfounded look to her left, and saw Freya grinning wildly back at her, with Hannah beaming on her other side. Even Livi was clapping at the far end of the stage, wearing a tight smile. The audience were applauding again too, and as she turned back to stare out at the crowd, the Principal moved in front of her and extended a hand. She took it, trembling as the news finally began to sink in.

“Congratulations, Miss Kane,” Weaver said, her normally stoic demeanour slipping momentarily as she gave a brief, but sincere, smile.

“Tha-thank you,” Emerald stuttered, even as the headteacher slipped her hand free and strode away. She was left with a view of the students clapping and cheering for her, as her beautiful girlfriend wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the side of her head.

For the first time in Emerald’s entire educational experience, everything was absolutely perfect. Everything she’d endured, the ordeals and humiliations and suffering, had been worth it. Emerald Kane was one of the top witches in the entire school. She never wanted this moment to end.

She might not have felt quite so elated, if she’d known about the ordeal to come the very next day.