Outside the principal's office of the Salem Institute for Sorceresses perched a girl of fifteen. As soon as the adults had entered the office, Morgen sat with her legs leaning up against the wall as she watched the ongoings of the school office upside down, her dark ponytail trailing to the floor.
Morgen could hear the conversation inside, despite the fact that they'd clearly kept her away so she wouldn't hear this very conversation.
"Please, Madam Mim, I'm begging you, Morgen deserves to remain in this school," Grandfather Drosselmire argued. "Those girls clearly started that fight! She just finished it."
"Well, I'm afraid all the evidence of that is circumstantial-"
"And you only believe the girls who have so-called respectable families," Grandfather Drosselmire said angrily. There was a thump of his cane as he stood up. Morgen quickly twisted her body around until she was sitting like the pureblood heiress she was, legs crossed, her hands clasped demurely, her uniform covering her prudishly.
"Well, not to offend you, Mr. Drosselmire, sir, but one of those girls is from a No-Maj family, and we know how your family has gone over with No-Majs," Madam Mim said firmly.
Morgen clenched handfuls of her skirt to contain her rage. She could practically feel her grandfather's seething from the other side of the wall. I didn't lay a hand on Amy Gumm. She's the one who punched me. I just pulled out my damn wand like a respectable lady! And look where that got me!
"That was our past," he finally answered. "I see that my granddaughter is not welcome at your school. I am grateful then that you have saved me the trouble of putting money into this school. Good day, Madam Mim!"
Morgen stood as the door opened. Grandfather Drosselmire strolled out and nodded in acknowledgement of Morgen.
"Come with me, Liebling," he said, with a gesture towards the door. Morgen nodded, careful to keep her face blank as she exited the main office. Goodbye Institute, goodbye Mim, goodbye Amy Gumm! Good riddance!
Her luggage was waiting out in the circular driveway when Grandfather Drosselmire's elegant-looking black car pulled in. Grandfather Drosselmire snapped his fingers, causing the trunk to open. He turned to Morgen.
"Do you think you can do a basic Leviation spell on this?" he asked. Morgen nodded and pulled her wand out of its special pocket in her blazer. She brandished it with confidence.
"Wingardium Leviosa," she said confidently, and with a swish and a flick, the luggage hovered about a foot above the ground. Carefully, she controlled the flight of it until it landed in the trunk. Grandfather Drosselmire snapped his fingers and the trunk snapped shut. Morgen placed her wand back inside her blazer pocket.
She then opened the door and gestured to her grandfather. "You first."
"Thank you, Morgen." He stepped inside and sat down in the car. Morgen slipped in next to him and buckled her seatbelt, even if it was just for appearances. "Back to the manor, Schuyler. Thank you."
Their driver smiled politely, and the car started out of the circular driveway of the Salem Institute for Sorceresses.
"Well, Morgen, we're in quite the spot once again," Grandfather Drosselmire said reluctantly with a false air of cheeriness. "This is the third school you've been expelled from. I've tried to respect your wishes about attending neither Ilvermorny, nor Durmstrang. This is also the first one you've managed to be asked never to return to in the first month of the school year."
"I know, I know," Morgen said.
"The International Space Academy, the Mr. Gold's school in Storybrooke, even the Salem Institute," Grandfather Drosselmire listed off. "I'm running out of options that are suitable for a talented girl like yourself. It's time that you compromised. It's Ilvermorny or Durmstrang."
"What about the Dare Academy?" Morgen protested. "Surely they'll let me into-"
"I'm done bargaining with you, Morgen!" Grandfather Drosselmire snapped. "I'm at my wit's end with you! I have asked you time and time again to follow the rules, to behave, but you always keep getting yourselves into fights like these!"
"Amy Gumm started it," Morgen muttered.
"I don't care if Miss Gumm started it," Grandfather Drosselmire said firmly. "I can see that you need to learn discipline, and you simply aren't going to learn it from one of the lesser schools."
"Well, maybe if people would stop assuming that I hate No-Majs because I happen to be related to that idiot across the Atlantic, maybe I'd stop getting into fights," Morgen said, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was bad enough when they knew my family went to Durmstrang! It's just not fair."
"Life's not fair, Liebling," Grandfather Drosselmire answered. "You might as well get used to it. Your situation is far better than others'. Now tell me, which school are you attending?"
Morgen sighed, conflicted. At Ilvermorny, they'll know about my stupid ancestors and expect me to be the greatest witch in the world. But at Durmstrang, everyone will be right about me and my family. Besides, I'm not going to be a Dark witch, I'm not!
There really was no further contemplation required. The answer seemed obvious to her.
"Ilvermorny."