Later that evening, Miss Peregrine and I met in the study to conduct my first lesson. Dinner had gone smoothly, the children were very-well behaved, and I think that it raised Miss Peregrine's spirits again. She seemed to begin to go under there for a while, in my opinion. We cleared the table in a timely manner and assumed to the study directly afterwards.

Miss Peregrine took a seat in a chair. "Where to begin?" she asked herself. She glanced over her shoulder at the bookcase full of photo albums. She pointed to a hefty-looking green one. "Hand that to me would you, Miss Stonington?" she asked pleasantly. I hastened to the bookcase, and slid the album out gently. It was much heavier than it looked and I almost dropped it when it slid into my arms. I sure was no Bronwyn, for it sagged in my arms. I gingerly set it on Miss Peregrine's lap. She made am oomph sound.

"It is heavier than I remember," she barked. She began to flip through the pages quickly, only taking a split second to connect the pictures with her memories. She had to have flipped through fifty pages of old photographs before her expression changed. "Ah!" she said. Pleased with her finding, she slammed the book shut. Then, struggling but managing, she got it on the table beside her. She stood gracefully.

"Considering you have wonderful mannerisms," she said. "I think it is acceptable to abandon that section of the lessons for now." She began to pace. "First, I shall teach you the proper way to transform. Now, you are most likely to fail the first few attempts. But with patience and a little practice you shall learn quickly." She motioned me to rise from my seat.

"Straighten your posture."

I raised my head and broadened my shoulders.

"Excellent. Now, spread your feet a tad. Good."

She held out her arms and I mirrored her. "Think: fly," she instructed.

I tried to bring forth the images I had seen a couple days previous when the Wight had Miss Peregrine in the cage. The treetops. I could imagine myself soaring high above the Welsh countryside. As I flew, the wind blew gently across the top of my feathered wings, and as I glanced below, I could see Miss Peregrine and her children standing on the lawn. Soon I was unable to tell that I had created the illusion within my own mind.

My feet began to tingle, and I wriggled my toes inside of my lace-up boots to make sure that they just weren't falling asleep. My body felt as If it was swaying back and forth. I began to feel vibrations from my core.

Beside me, Miss Peregrine was chewing her knuckle.

My concentration got so intense that I swore I could feel myself sprout wings and obtain feathers.

"That's enough, Miss Stonington!" She barked worriedly.

Everything seemed to stop. When I opened my eyes, I found myself on the ground on my hands and knees. Confused, I looked at Miss Peregrine.

"As I said, you were to fail your first attempt."

She helped me up and led me to the nearest seat. She made me sit. "I would like you to be careful, Miss Stonington, for metamorphosis of the human body is rather challenging. It is also likely to drain you of your energy. Tell me, how do you feel?"

I raised my trembling palms. "Light-headed," I replied.

"That's normal. Allow me to go and mix you an elixir that will restore your lost stamina," she said softly yet seriously as she limped from the room. She kind of sounded like something off of an old video game.

I sat with my head between my knees the while she was gone. The house was silent- the children must have been off playing on the second floor somewhere. It was so quiet that I could hear Miss Peregrine whistle in the other room as she mixed something. I heard the sound of two glass bottles touching and the sound of her boots as she walked around the kitchen. My head began to pulse and, even with my eyes shut, I began to feel dizzy. When she reappeared through the double doors that led into the hallway, carrying a green bottle, I felt like I should have been on the floor.

"Take it slow, Miss Stonington." She placed the bottle in my hand. "Sip this gingerly; I can't have you getting sick."

Slowly but surely, I raised the bottle to my lips and began to sip. Whatever she had mixed in it, it tasted like coconut and some type of old-fashioned spice. It was utterly disgusting. However, I felt the changes it made to my condition almost instantly. The pulsating in my head stopped. My vision returned to normal and I began to feel fine again.

"I'm afraid that once you do manage to change forms, your reaction will be much worse than this," she pointed out. "In fact, I will have to have quite the group of elixirs ready, in case any nonsense was to happen."

I pulled myself up and sat up as straight as I could. "Like what, if I may ask." I sipped the elixir again.

"Well, at Miss Avocet's academy, I was attending lessons with none other than Miss Wren- what a remarkable woman! When the time arose to assume our forms for the first time, Miss Wren had done it so quickly, that she could not change back. Miss Avocet, luckily, had just the right amount of concoction present to save her."

"Have you ever gotten stuck, Headmistress?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. But, things can always happen."

I was glad that my lessons weren't over yet, for Miss Peregrine decided that lecturing me on how an ymbryne carried herself was more useful at this very time than trying to call-out my inner bird. She covered many different topics in almost an hour. First it was ymbryne etiquette- which she said was rather almost perfect. She then began to touch on children and how to properly care for them. Apparently that there were no peculiar children in loops under the age of six. It was too much a fuss to have to change diapers and bottle-feed young peculiars, I guessed. She battered on about how to cook properly and to make sure that meals were always served at the same time every day- except for the few excuses like that day we had gone to the beach.

Miss Peregrine also began to teach me how to properly use the ymbryne language. Even in human-form, the ymbrynes could communicate to one another using various bird noises such as cooing and even makeshift squawking. Hearing Miss Peregrine squawk made her really seem like The Bird- that was rude of me to think!

Miss Peregrine became tired soon after that, and she sent me to bed. She had said that we'd continue tomorrow.

I climbed the staircase only to find Emma suspended upside-down from one of the rafters. She was hanging by her legs, her arms held out. For a moment there I thought she was either dead or paralyzed but she answered my questions with a very girlish giggle.

"You are truly peculiar, Miss Bloom," I stated.

She giggled again. She reached up, grabbed the rafter, and flung herself. She did a mid-air flip and landed on her feet. I thought that was a trick that only Olive could perform. Emma then smoothed the front of her dress and came over to me.

"You've been spending a lot of time with the Bird," she said. "Tell me, what goes on?"

I stood, frozen. Miss Peregrine had asked me to keep my secret well, secret. I knew that she'd tell the others. Somewhere down the hall, one of the rooms was being used as a play land because I heard all of the children screaming and laughing. It sounded like they were jumping on the beds. I remained silent.

Emma nudged me. "Come on, Minnette!" she cheered. "The Bird must know something good about you. She doesn't get attached to someone this quick."

Finally, her persistence irritated me, and I snapped.

"She's helping me find my peculiarity," I snapped.

Emma gasped. She knew that she had poked at me too much. She placed her hand to her mouth. "I am sorry, that was rude of me," she said.

I shook my head. "It's all right." A loud crash came from the bedroom where the children were. "What's going on in there?"

Emma smiled. "They're playing." She then grabbed me by the arm and began to run with me down the hall. She threw open the door and what I saw was both crazy, yet hilarious at the same time.

All of the children were grouped up inside the second library. They all had things in their hands, baseball bats, Olive had a stick, Horace had a book, and Jacob had a slingshot. They were all shouting derogatory remarks. There, perched on top of the tallest bookshelf was Claire. She was clad in a black dress that was so big on her that the neckline sagged down to her chest almost. She was crouched in a position that reminded me of a frog. She began to laugh and between laughs, would make a "Caw!" noise. Her back mouth began to screech.

"Caw! Caw! Caw!" yelled Claire. "You are all a bunch of scum!" She spread her arms and began to flap them as if they were wings. There was a black hat on the shelf with her. She threw it on her head with attitude, then, plopped down so she was sitting, her legs dangling. She then reached into her pocket and pulled out a pipe. She pretended to smoke it.

"Surrender, Peregrine!" hissed Enoch. In his hand he had a wooden sword and he thrust it upward.

Oh! I got it! Claire was pretending to be Miss Peregrine and the children were pretending to be Wights. It was a childish reenactment of when Miss Peregrine had been kidnapped the other day.

"This is their way of coping, you know," said Emma softly as she leaned her back against the door frame. "I find it offensive to the Bird so I never participate."

I nodded. It was kind of offensive. I wondered if Miss Peregrine knew they played such games.

"Never!" screeched Claire. She took another fake puff of her pipe. She then pounded a fist into the bookshelf.

"Lads!" shouted Horace. He was playing the leader. "Our prey believes she is some manner of game bird! Shall we teach her to fly?"

All of the children raised their "weapons" and began to sound a battle cry.

"You are nothing but a load of codswallop!" Claire yelled. She smacked the shelf again. She then dropped her pipe and made her hands into claw-like figures. "Come forth, I dare you! I shall claw your eyes out!" And with that, she made a screech similar to a falcon's. She quickly put her pipe in her mouth and bit it so it wouldn't escape her lips. She then brought out her claws again, and leaped from the bookshelf. Some of the children managed to get out of the way before she plopped right down on Bronwyn.

"I will NEVER let you harm my wards!" said Claire between her teeth as they clenched the pipe.

This was a rather impressive impression. Claire was almost spot-on. Of all the time I had been here, I had never seen them play this particular game.

Bronwyn began to laugh loudly as Claire began tickling her with her "claws." "You ninnies!" she hissed.

"WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?!"

We all jumped. Miss Peregrine was standing behind Emma and I and we never knew it. I slipped out of her way. She entered the room, fists clenched at her side. I saw her anger as she walked past me.

The children began to disperse, and Claire sat frozen on top of Bronwyn, the pipe still in her mouth. As Miss Peregrine towered over her, she half-grinned up at her, hoping to discourage the punishment that was about to come. Claire then spit out the pipe and it crashed to the floor.

"Children, what have I told you about playing on the furniture?" Miss Peregrine said through clenched teeth.

"We are not supposed to be doing it," replied Horace.

"That's right!" she barked. She then bent over and snatched the pipe. "And WHAT have I said about stealing my pipes?" She eyed Claire.

Claire lowered her head in shame. Such a great reenactment would probably never happen again. I felt pity for the children; it looked like loads of fun. But I was an ymbryne and I couldn't join in on such things, sadly.

"I'm sorry, Miss Peregrine," said Claire. "But how was I supposed to portray you realistically without a pipe?" she asked, a brow lifted.

Miss Peregrine raised her head, closed her eyes, stuck her nose in the air and shook her head. "Portray? Perhaps mock! And, perhaps, too realistically a mock, at that." She pocketed the pipe and threw her hands outward. "To bed!" she hissed. "All of you!"

The children all moaned and began to disperse to each of their bedrooms. I stayed in the doorway, clutching to the wall. I could indeed understand- nor blame-the children for playing so stridently, after all, we have been cooped up in the house for three days now. Claire and Bronwyn arose and began to sulk out the door. Miss Peregrine turned to me.

"You to, Miss Stonington," she said stiffly.

"Yes, Headmistress," I replied as I left her.

Although I had not partaken in the event, I guess that acknowledging it was just as bad in Miss Peregrine's book.