Prologue

"A school full of only guys? That's messed up!" ~ Professor Aimee Springfield.

Aimee Springfield

Cold Waters All Boys Acadamy.

It was it's own series of islands built one mile off the coast of Massachusetts, out from Boston. When the magic school had become concerned with some of the events at Mahora, they had issued orders, and the school was "temporarily" shut down due to a fear that it's islands weren't stable. Then "experts" deemed that the entire place's foundation wasn't safe. As a result, many of the buildings were torn down, and the people who had worked or got educated there moved on. Some of them moved to other schools in Japan, others went to other countries, and some of them caught word of Cold Water's planned construction back in 2038.

Some of the benefactors for the construction of this school were the same ones, or relatives of theirs, who had helped fund Mahora academy. As a result, when I had graduated from magic school the assigned me here, and they were quick to claim that my family history had nothing to do with this, but I was willing to bet that my grandfather probably had something to do with my getting this assigned to me. The teacher for a 10th grade advisor class of boys, along with being a history teacher, and I had been told that just like my grandfather, I would be following them until graduation. That was just wonderful.

They assured me that I wouldn't need them to all sign pactios like my grandfather Negi had.

Stepping off the boat that had picked me up in Boston, I sighed, and let my head low. I was only twelve years old and they were expecting me to teach kids who were at least fifteen according to what I had been told about my class. Outside of the dean of the school, I had nobody who would know I was magic, or if there were any other magic users then I had yet to be told about them, and so I would have to be extremely careful as to not be stripped of my qualifications by being spotted by a non-magic user. That would be very bad. I so didn't want to be an animal!

Looking at the two and three-story white-painted buildings, I retrieved a map of the campus from a pocket of my windbreaker, and looked for the administrative building. From there, I would meet with the dean, and would head for my class.

Randall Rhodes

"Wake up, Randy!" I heard my friend and roommate, Jay Childers, practically whining at me.

"Just four more minutes." I grumbled, turning to face the wall.

Jay was always an early-bird when it came to school days. We didn't really need to get up and get going until around 6:30 a.m., or at least I didn't. I didn't know how long Jay's morning routine was. I had never really been awake to see it before. I guess I was just lazy like that but Jay wouldn't have that at all. He always insisted that the moment he was ready, I had to get up, and get ready too. It was too bad for me that he was usually ready at about a quarter till six. By my watch, that was way too early to be getting up on a Monday morning.

Okay, that pun was bad. I'm sorry.

Blame my best *frenemy for waking my up so early.

"No, you're getting up right now!" Jay exclaimed.

Right then and there, I was suddenly thankful that I slept in the bottom bunk. In a flash, my blanket was ripped away and Jay grabbed me by one of my ankles. I was practically hurled from my bed, landing on my butt with a grunt of surprise, and now found Jay looking down at me. He was already in his school uniform, his matte-black hair already combed, and light green eyes full of anger at his friend's morning laziness. I gave a disappointed sigh. It seemed like once again I had lost the morning battle of letting me sleep a little later than usual. How could I forget that he always did that to me when I refused?

Standing up, I ran a hand through my own messy, raven-black hair, and headed for the bathroom to start my morning whether I wanted to or not. While I was taking a shower, combing my hair, and doing everything else in the average morning routine: Jay was cooking breakfast. Even though he always got up early enough to do so, he refused to go eat the lunch room's breakfast. He always insisted that a home-cooked breakfast was far better for the morning. I could smell the bacon and smiled. The sooner I got dressed, the sooner I could go eat.

I guess that's incentive to get up in the morning. Anyways, once I was done with everything else, I got my uniform. Man did I hate the thing. I had never really been one for a uniform, even if it was required for a job. Black dress shoes, black socks, black slacks, and a dark brown leather belt came first. After that I put on my white button-up shirt. I tucked it in because I knew teachers would complain if I didn't, but I never left my sleeves down like the dress code "recommended" us to do. I just unbuttoned the cuffs and rolled it up to my elbows. I had done it for so long that I think the teachers had just given up trying to make me do it. That and something about my dad being the third largest financial contributor to the school system. If I wanted to have my sleeves up, I doubt they were going to stop me.

I left the bathroom, grabbed myself a quick bite to eat, and then Jay and I got our coats and bags. From there we made our way through the streets to the building where we were assigned. We were both in tenth grade, hence why we had been roomed together, and the building wasn't too far away from our dormitory building. Part of why I insisted on being allowed to sleep in a little. Regardless, Jay had won this morning (as always), and so we were going to be sitting in our first classes for a while. Oh well, at least I would have plenty of time to practice my doodling skills in my notebook.

"So, did you hear the news?" Jay suddenly asked.

I didn't bother to look at him, just watching my feet as we walked, "What?"

"I heard there was a schedule change during the summer." Jay sounded oddly excited.

I was less so, "...and?"

"Mrs. Mobley isn't going to be our advisor anymore!" Jay exclaimed.

I grunted, "Oh, well at least that's something."

Neither of us had really liked Mrs. Mobley, though looking back on it these days I suppose that's not very fair. We had never actually been in one of her classes, but we had certainly heard the tales from upper classmen, and had met her in the halls before. She was a hawk-eyed woman with shock-white hair. According to some people, she was possibly one of the most strict teachers in the school. She had been one of the most frequent when it came to berating me for infractions like my sleeves, and still did it now that all the other teachers had seemed to just give up. At the time, I was grateful that Jay and I wouldn't need to deal with her this school year.

After heading through the double-doors, my day was officially started. My first class was Geometry with Mr. Leftwich as my teacher. The guy was, for lack of a better term, extremely boring. He was a pudgy, balding, gray-haired man with circular glasses boasting lenses thicker than bottle caps. He was, by far, my second least favorite teacher next to Mrs. Mobley. He was so boring! Don't get me wrong, I appreciated that he was trying to do his best to educate us, but the guy just didn't know how to make it interesting for any of us! He would drone on and on, assigning piles of notes, and putting somewhat unreasonable due dates on assignments.

After that came my morning relief.

Physical Education with Ms. Sanderfur. Cynthia Sanderfur was considered the hottest teacher amongst all of those who taught P.E. in the junior high/high school. Now, I'm no Cougar Hunter, but for a thirty four year old woman: she was pretty attractive. However, it was more a relief for me because most of the time we just played baseball. It was always relieving to hit something with a bat. Maybe that's why people break a car's headlights? Then again, maybe not, but I wouldn't know.

After that was my advisor period.

I'll admit that I was excited to see who this new teacher was, even if I hadn't shown it that well earlier in the morning. So, after changing in to my uniform once again, I had headed for my assigned advisor room. Heading through the door, I instantly began scanning the tables for Jay. Upon finding him, I headed over, hung my school coat on the back of the chair next to him, and set my bag under the table. Sitting down, I took a look around to realize that our teacher wasn't here yet. No, in fact it seemed that it was only students in the entire room. Unfortunately, while I scanned the room I came across a sight that had driven me up a wall with anger since sixth grade on the campus.

Adam Merkell.

The sixteen year old, red-haired, green-eyed jerk acted like somebody had died and crowned him the king. The high school had a student council, of which Adam was not a member, but which he seemed to think he was better than. He proudly proclaimed, and often, that was the class's "unofficial president". I honestly just thought that he was on a constant power-trip. Of course, you have to understand that this was from the view of a boy who had always been squaring off with him at everything: science, math, art, P.E., etc. You name it and we tried to beat each other at it. Well, for most things anyways. I wasn't in the "most pompous asshole" contest.

Aimee Springfield (Shortly before Randall's arrival in advisors)

I hadn't been in an office as big as that of Dean Dale Porter's since I had been in magic school. It was large, well-decorated, and the wall behind his desk was floor-to-roof windows that provided a spectacular view over the islands, facing the horizon. I bet he got to enjoy an amazing sunset every morning when he came in to his office.

The dean himself was a man of around five feet and seven inches in height, or so I'd guess. That would make him only around three inches taller than me. He had graying black hair that he was keeping back in a ponytail, a nicely tailored gray suit (with it's jacket currently on the back of his leather chair), and he was chewing on a cigar of some obscure brand that I had never heard of before from a tin that was on his desk. He smiled up at me as the woman behind me cleared her throat to get his attention.

The woman behind me had introduced herself as "Ms. Cynthia Sanderfur". She had assured me that since we were both teachers that I could just call her Cynthia. She was apparently one of the high school's P.E. teachers. She was brown-haired, letting it fall down to her shoulders, and had ice blue eyes that seemed to sparkle every time she smiled. I pegged her as being maybe two inches taller than me. That was a weird little quirk of mine. I didn't like being short yet I made a habit of trying to accurately guess they height difference between myself and anybody taller.

I guess I was just weird like that.

Dean Porter was still smiling as he leaned back in to his chair. He snapped his fingers and I watched a small ball of flame appear on his fingertips that he used to light his cigar. I nearly went slack-jawed, looking back to Ms. Sanderfur for her reaction. Of course, I had known he was magical, but Ms Sanderfur was probably...smiling? She tilted her head a bit, eyes shut, and was smiling at me. So she knew? Well, then at least I didn't need to worry about Ms. Sanderfur fining out about any sort of magical secrets that either of us might have had.

"Don't worry about Cynthia, Ms. Springfield." I heard Dean Porter assure me.

Ms. Sanderfur giggled, "I'm a wizard too, silly."

I chuckled nervously,

I really wished that Dean Porter hadn't given me a fright like that. Well, at least it was good to know there was at least a third wizard in the school should something go wrong.

"There's more people than her, though you'll meet them soon enough." Dean Porter was smiling.

Looking back at Ms. Sanderfur, I could have sworn I saw her frown at Dean Porter for a moment.

"Until then, you will be rooming with Ms. Sanderfur in the staffing quarters." He leaned forward again, "I urge you to keep in mind that you need to make a good first impression: they're all going to be at least a few years older than you."

"Yes sir, I understand entirely." I gave him a polite nod of my head.

"Very well then: would you kindly introduce her to the class, Cynthia?" Dean Porter asked with a smile.

"Of course, Dale." She was still smiling.

We turned to head for the door.

"Oh, Ms. Springfield." Dean Porter suddenly spoke up again, causing us to turn around, "Know that you're grandfather was as great a mage as his father, and he made some enemies in his time."

He then dismissed us with a wave of his hand. That was...odd, to say the least, but as Ms. Sanderfur shut the door behind me, I realized what he was probably trying to warn me about. There were probably people out there who were looking to get revenge on my grandfather in some way. What better way to emotionally hurt him then kill one of his grandchildren when she's trying to qualify as a wizard. Then again, if I was any of those people I'd think twice before calling down the fury of Grandma Eva on my head. She had flipped out once when my mom had messed up a simple magic spell. I wouldn't want to see the aftermath if somebody tried killing one of us.

"So, how are you liking America so far?" Ms. Sanderfur suddenly piped up beside me as we walked.

She caught me off-guard, in my own thoughts, "It's a very lovely country." I gave her a small smile.

"Well, how is it compared to England?" She was trying to be a comfort for me in a new environment.

I bit my lower lip, looking back to my short time on the mainland, "Chips confused me, at first."

She chuckled, "Hm, I bet it would: but don't worry, we have fish and chips here, too."

I was lying, of course. I knew the difference in slang, I just wanted to make her feel like her small-talk was working to calm me down at the thought of dealing with a bunch of older boys as their teacher. It really wasn't, to be honest.

"So, are there any girl students?" I asked.

Ms. Sanderfur shook her head, "No, or we probably would have tried putting some in your class."

"A school full of only guys? That's messed up!" I exclaimed.

This elicited a laugh from her, "Well, don't worry: there are plenty of teachers to help you."

Staying silent, with my head hung low, I suddenly noticed a scent lingering in the air. It was curious. Hard to recognize at first, until I remembered some of the things that Grandma Eva and my mother both taught me. I looked over to Ms. Sanderfur, then checked our surroundings to make sure that nobody was listening in on us.

"I thought werewolves can't use magic." I decided to be up-front about it.

Ms. Sanderfur stopped midstep, a look of surprise on her face. Then I saw her nose twitch as a look of realization suddenly came over her features. She chuckled, palming her own forehead.

"Of course, I should have realized." She looked to me with a smile, "Your a damphyr, aren't you."

I smiled giving her a nod, "Yep, my grandmother."

"So you're a third-generation: then at least we don't need to worry about blood lust." We started again.

"So tell me, how can you use magic?" I asked.

"Well, it's not that werewolves can't use magic: it's just that there was a law passed years ago that werewolves were too dangerous for magic, out of fear that they might go wild." She began to explain, "In cases like mine, however, they make an exception, and put us through rigorous training."

"What's your case?" I asked.

"I tell you later." She said with a smile.

That smile was different, however. It was like she was hiding something from me.

"Oh look, here's your classroom." She suddenly said, pointing to one of the many doors around us.

She went through the door first, holding it open for me. It was times like this when I felt nervous that I would find comfort in clutching my staff. Unfortunately, my staff, and many of my other belongings had been sent to Ms. Sanderfur ahead of time to be put in the room I was sharing with her. So I just nervously clenched the straps of my own backpack as we stepped in. Ms. Sanderfur stood front and center of the room, in front of the desk that was obviously meant for me.

"Good evening everybody." Ms. Sanderfur called out cheerily.

"Good evening, Ms. Sanderfur!" The boys in the class responded.

I could already see some strange looks from the students. I knew that they were all probably quite stunned to see a girl, who looked more like a student than a teacher. Of course, that was understandable I guess, seeing as how this was an all-boys school. I just kept my gaze down, just praying to whatever higher being there was that I wouldn't embarrass myself.

"This is Ms. Aimee Springfield." Ms. Sanderfur introduced me cheerily "Say hello, class."

"Hello, Ms. Springfield." They all droned tiredly.

Ms. Sanderfur's smile grew and I could tell she was about to enjoy what was coming next.

"She's going to be your advisor this school year!" She chirped happily.

There was a wave of sudden confusion. I heard a few confused voices speculating that I couldn't be any older than they were, some questioning if this was some kind of joke, and all of them seemed to be justifiably caught completely off-guard. Ms. Sanderfur raised a single hand, raising her hand once again. Everybody slowly drifted in to silence once again.

"Introduce yourself, Ms. Springfield." Ms. Sanderfur motioned for me to step forward.

I did so, looking up at everybody with a nervous smile. I looked over them all and found that every single person was looking right at me. Some seemed tired and disinterested, others seemed absolutely amazed to see me, and others just stared silently as if they weren't going to do anything about it; just going with whatever Ms. Sanderfur told them to do.

"As you all now know, I am Aimee Springfield." I hoped my voice didn't sound shaky, "I will be your advisor class teacher and 10th grad history."

Ms. Sanderfur put a hand on my shoulder, "I expect you boys to treat Ms. Springfield with respect."

"Yes, Ms. Sanderfur." It sounded like they had recovered from their shock, at least in part.

I moved to sit down at the desk. Retrieving the book containing all of my students, I set it on the desk, and flipped it open. Each student had their name typed beneath their picture. Looking at the book, there were two sections of different: one was small, simply labeled 'Advisees'. The other was a much larger, for all of the students that were in the multiple hours in which I taught history. I looked up, trying to match some names to faces, and as I did one of the students close to the front suddenly stood up with a smile on his face.

"Excuse me, Ms. Springfield." He announced, "If you need anything, I'll be happy to help."

"Thank you, mister...uh," I had to look in the book, "Mr. Merkell." I smiled to him.

"I just don't know if anybody told you: I'm sort of a leader for these guys." He was obviously proud.

"Shit-head." I suddenly heard somebody mutter from behind him.

"I am not a shit-head, you worthless tool!" He turned back to one boy in particular, yelling.

"Really? You're nose sure is brown enough!" The boy in question stood up, knocking over his seat.

Adam headed over for his desk, and they both leaned towards each other. They were shouting at each other, while the third person at that table seemed to try staying out of the argument by listening to an MP3 player. I looked in my book to identify those two. The one with black hair in a ponytail and various colors of beads in said ponytail was Randall Rhodes. Ms. Sanderfur had left a simple note of one word, "Eccentric." The other boy was Jay Childers, with his one-word not being, "Recluse."

Wonderful, it seemed that I already had conflict.

"Excuse me!" I tried to sound as calm and authoritative as possible, "Could you two please sit?"

They ignored me. They were too caught up in their argument, it seemed.

"Don't mind them Ms. Springfield." I suddenly heard somebody say.

I could tell the voice had been coming from the back of the room. I looked to see it's source and found him easily enough. He had raven-black hair that seemed to be kept very short on the sides, with a part down the center. He was leaning back, with his feet up on the table. Like always, I guessed his height, and thought that he was maybe six inches taller than me. He looked absolutely blase about the whole situation: as if he didn't have a care in the world. According to the book, his name was Robert Cranford. Ms. Sanderfur hadn't left any notes about him.

"Thank you, Robert." I gave him the same smile I had been giving everybody else all day.

"Don't mention, Ms. S." He replied cooly.

He seemed to be totally unperturbed, but something about him seemed off. I couldn't tell what it was about him. Maybe it was his too-calm expression, but it seemed as if he was...angry, almost. Then again, maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. Then I realized something else was off in the air. It was hard to tell with all the pure-blooded humans around, but something smelled out-of-place. Could it have had anything to do with Robert, perhaps? I doubted it, but still.

I brushed the thought away.

Once advisors was over, I had class to teach.

Randall Rhodes

The rest of the day had passed with nothing interesting happening, in comparison to finding out that my advisor wasn't even legally old enough to drive a car. History was the class right after advisors and so I got to witness her teaching ability not more than a half an hour after we were all introduced to herself. Except for the occasional stutter and often having her head down, she had actually been a pretty good teacher. Then again, when you're that young, and you suddenly have so much responsibility on you I guess it's alright to feel at least a little nervous. I was just curious what it was that she had done to go so far ahead in life to already be a teacher of people who were older than her.

"Dude, she was hot!" Jay suddenly exclaimed from beside me, "I would tap that!"

That was just ridiculous.

I quirked a brow at him, with a smirk, "You realize she's too young, right?" I asked.

"Doesn't matter: I swear I'll save myself for her if that's what it takes." Jay insisted.

I chuckled, rolling my eyes at my friend, "I bet that will be sooo hard for you, too."

Jay had just got a nerve struck, "Hey, I'm quite the lady's man!"

My smirk grew, "How would you know?" I asked, "All the students are guys."

He waisted no time in his reply, "Not everybody here is a guy: some of the staff are ladies!"

I closed my eyes, my head leaning back, "You cougar hunter, you."

Jay sighed, "Just shut up: I'm not a cougar hunter."

I couldn't help but laugh at Jay's defeated tone as we walked down the sidewalk to our dorm. I was rewarded for this with Jay slapping me upside the back of my head. That was just the way our friendship worked out, I guess. He'd wake me up before sane hours, I'd tease him, and at the end of the day we'd happily beat each other up with a good laugh.

* = "Frenemy" is a term Randall uses to describe when a good friend is irritating, i.e., on a weekday morning when waking him up.

Author's Notes: So this is my "when needing to write, with no idea for my other stories"...story. Right now I'm suffering from a bad case of writer's block and so I am just making this story as a means to try obliterating my writer's block since I recently watched quite a few episodes of the anime series (and I'm hoping to find the manga somewhere).

Disclaimer: Because these are all so much fun. I do not own any of the characters, names, or themes that appeared in the original anime and manga. Cold Water, it's students, and it's faculty are all from my imagination, however.