The National Curriculum of Magic

Chapter Five: Settling in

It turned out the dragon was an exceptionally polite young boy - boy by human standards, at least - of thirty two by the name of Ian. Harold had almost spit out his coffee when he realised Ian was the name of the dragon: according to Kelly who'd done a bit of eavesdropping, his parents were very fond of human names and of all the names to choose from, they'd settled on Ian. Poor kid.

Harold chewed absentmindedly on a cheese and pickle sandwich in the staff room. His lunch half hour was slipping away from him, and today was a Jake day. He'd already poured paint into the crushed shark teeth and hurled wet toilet paper balls onto the ceiling of the bathroom. The poor cleaner Lynn would be scraping them off at six thirty tonight, no doubt.

It was wrong to hate children. So so wrong. Yet there was a seething loathing towards that vile little boy that made Harold deeply ashamed to call himself a nursery teacher. He shuffled the observation papers back inside the plastic wallet and brushed the crumbs off his hands. He should go and relieve Percy who was working the late shift and currently watching the younger ones snooze. Harold left the safety of the staff room and tiptoed into the baby room where Percy sat with the demon babe who slumbered in his arms. Five other toddlers slept soundly to the peaceful chimes of fairy music.

Without a word, Harold gently lifted the small girl onto his chest and tapped Percy on the back, indicating him to take his leave. In the relative peace before the children awoke, Harold checked the rota and rocked on his heels instinctually to soothe baby G'aathia. She sucked furiously on one claw.

The baby room was a great refuge from the rowdy older children, especially now the magic ban had been lifted and some of the boys liked to wind each other up in the playground by freezing the floor or opening portals to the girls’ bathroom. Harold had a blessed hour nursing the little ones before he had to once again delve into the fray of the pre-schoolers. He decided to relish every moment.

Expertly holding G'aathia in one arm, he opened the blinds and turned the music down to low. With one flick of a finger, the thin blankets rolled off the stirring toddlers and he began slicing apples and grapes for snack with another flick.

“Mr. Hawold?” A sleepy voice from the floor murmured and little Thomas rubbed one eye with the back of his sleeve.

“Hey, champ,” said Harold, grinning broadly, “No bad dreams since we put that dreamcatcher up, eh?”

Thomas had come from a long line of necromancers, and smiled sleepily as he looked up at the dangling mess of beads, uncooked pasta, string and bamboo that spun lazily from a beam. It had been made with love in mind first and foremost. “Snack?” He enquired, and Harold nodded to the small table where the apples had been set.

*****

The hour passed far too quickly, and already all the children under the age of three had been claimed by their parents. Including little G'raathia. It was time. Harold groaned as he locked the the baby room, trudging his way up stairs to the encroaching hum of giddy children. Already the ineligible screeching of one particular little madam by the name of Olivia rang in his ears. A shapeshifter who hadn't quite mastered her powers, she had been recently admonished by her parents for sneaking sweets from the top cupboard by turning into a cat and as punishment, had been slapped with a wristband that limited her powers.

Of course, for a four year old it was as if she'd been told she could no longer eat, and her impudent anger was being unleashed in all its glory over in the Small World area. Harold reached the top of the stairs to find Kelly kneeling and trying to reason with the squalling Olivia. Several plastic toys lay strewn around the scene, and Harold could smell smoke coming from the day room.

“Let me just grab Jake, I think he's on fire again. Won't be a sec.”

The day room was a place that was supposed to be for reflection and contemplation, but usually it served as a racing-cum-obstacle course for the rowdier children. Harold poked his head round the doorframe and quirked a brow.

Ian sat in the middle, grinning. Around him, several children were sitting cross legged, whooping and cheering at the smoke rings he blew from his nose. It was the first time since Ian had started that he'd interacted with any,and let along entertained a crowd. Harold hung back, watching the scene.

Jake sat among those entranced by Ian's performance, even Darren was pretending not to watch from behind the window of the staffroom. “Hey, Kel, bring Olivia over here. Let her watch this.”

Eventually most of the children were watching Ian's firework show, and as long as Harold kept an eye on the curtain hems, Ian spent a whole forty minutes containing the attention of fifteen four year olds. Nora, one of the other recent starters that preferred to embrace her feral side over her human side, had sidled up to Jake and was elbowing him. Those two, regardless of the distractions around them, were a lethal combination. Harold braced himself.