“Welcome to Alphabeta,” Rachel declared, looming over Daniel with a downright chesherian grin. “I give you a week before you drop out.”

Staring back up to her, Daniel tried to forget that she’d seen him naked. He’d had most of a month to put those events behind him before the school year started, but now, with her right in front of him, the memories popped right back.

He rallied the courage he had on hand, standing up to Rachel. “Trust me–as soon as I can, I’m out of here. This is just a stepping stone to get me where I actually want to be.”

That turned Rachel’s expression sour, malicious glee twisting into anger.

“You don’t belong here, spark,” she sneered. “But you’re assigned to my wing, so you do what I say, and if you step out of line, I’ll be there to make sure you regret even daring to breathe in this space.”

Daniel doubted she could do that, but he didn’t doubt her intent. He just had to hope she was all talk.

The dormitory halls weren’t quite as grand as the entrance, but the floor was still polished marble and the walls were old hardwood stained a deep, rich brown. The design made him think of wisdom, patience, and virtue, concepts at odds with Rachel’s plain malice.

He’d planned on showing up, finding his dorm room, and unwinding a bit before opening ceremonies, but Rachel had other plans. She clearly intended to harass him all year, and didn’t want to waste her first opportunity to do so.

For now, she spun on her heels, motioning with her hand for him to follow. He scurried after her, just in case she accidentally shared information worth knowing.

Glancing over her shoulder, she looked down on him. “Is there a reason you didn’t bother wearing your uniform?”

“Well, yeah,” Daniel pressed his lips into a line, looking down at his plain pants and T-shirt. He’d ditched the girly clothes he’d bought–no need to keep up the charade any longer, even if it meant the other new students were all sending curious looks his way. “The welcome letter said I wouldn’t need to purchase anything, so I didn’t get any–was there some secret girls-only meeting where they were passed out?”

Rachel snorted with amusement, drawing the attention of a few girls walking the other way. “They’re not given out, they’re conjured. You can do a basic conjuring, right?”

Daniel hesitated.

“Well?” Rachel asked. “What is it, Mr. Hotshot?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Daniel avoided her glare as they turned down a hall, down a narrower corridor away from the bulk of the sleeping quarters. “I’m…not so good at conjuring. I’m still getting there.”

Rachel barked out a laugh, cynical and bubbling with condescension. Daniel told himself she was playing up her reaction for the crowd, but…this part of the hallway was mostly empty.

Leaning against a wall for support, Rachel wheezed. “The would-be warlock can’t even do conjurations? That’s pre-year stuff.”

“But–” Daniel started.

“Hell, I was conjuring clothes I’d copied out of magazines when I was in junior high,” Rachel continued. “This is like, kiddie stuff.”

“I’m here to learn,” Daniel growled, trying to sound fierce. “That’s the point of education, isn’t it?”

Rachel’s laugh was punctuated by a slight squeak, a reaction to his attempt at intimidation. “That’s your best macho defense for being incompetent?” she asked. “Puh-lease.”

“Well,” Daniel said. “What am I supposed to do about uniforms? I can try the conjuration, I guess, if you get me the specifications.”

“If a witch is too useless to conjure her own clothes, and isn’t part of a coven that can help her yet,” Rachel said, “Well–wouldn’t you know it? She can ask her prefect to conjure her uniform for her.”

“Eh…” Daniel said, recognizing the leverage that gave her. “On second thought, I’ll do it.”

Rachel smirked. “You just made it clear you can’t do so safely. I’ll conjure them for you, since I can’t trust you not to have any accidents,” she said, putting a particular emphasis on the last word.

“Why’d you say it like that?” Daniel asked, frowning.

She tilted her head and cast a glance over her shoulder at him, turning down the last of the long halls. “Like what?”

Daniel shrugged. “Like you were telling a joke that I don’t get.”

“Oh, we’ll get to that,” Rachel said, looking around the hall innocently. “We’re almost to your room.”

Daniel glanced about, confused. “Where are we?”

“The ‘Boys’ wing,” Rachel explained.

Looking up at her, Daniel asked, “Alphabeta has a boys’ wing?”

“We do now,” Rachel replied, a flicker of a smile playing over her lips. “But don’t think we went through any trouble. There used to be a higher ratio of prefects to students, and of students to teachers. Since growing more selective, there’s been an extra hall of rooms–extra lodging, really. We decided this would be the best place to stick you, so you’re not getting in anyone’s way.”

“Oh,” Daniel said. “So I get a prefect’s room? Sweet.”

Rachel snickered. “You do know this is a witches’ school, right?”

“Sure.” Daniel shrugged. “But I don’t see what that has to do with my room. It’s not like a separate dorm makes me a worse witch–er, warlock.”

“BZZZT, wrong,” Rachel replied. “You’re learning to be a witch, spark, whether that’s what you want or not–and witches work in covens.”

“Oookay,” Daniel said, trailing out the word while he tried to decode her meaning. “So I’ll be in a group.”

“Mhmm,” she explained. “Working with your peers. Building relationships. Group magic relies on trust, and you know what makes it hard to build trust and relationships?”

“Let me guess: Having a room far away from everyone else, being isolated, yadda yadda?” Daniel asked. He got the point, but he didn’t particularly care–lessons on witchery were the thing he cared about the least; they’d matter a little once he got to be a High Warlock with his own coven of eight but for the time being it wasn’t even on his radar.

“That’s right,” Rachel said, smugly. “If you want to be a witch, you’re going to need friends.”

“Right.” Daniel couldn’t stop himself, before adding, “So why’d they let you in here?”

He’d meant the quip to sting, but Rachel’s expression flattened to pure neutrality and she just waved at a door. “In. Now.”

Daniel pushed open the door. It was a pretty basic dorm room: a bed, a desk, a bookshelf, a dresser. Two trash bins under the desk was a little weird, but not worth commenting on. The window looking out over a summer prairie stood out the most, though he knew the view was only an illusion–they didn’t get lush prairie views half a mile below the arctic circle.

Boring, practical, with a nice view.

“To change the view, it’s a simple obscurate viewportal spell,” Rachel said, taking her wand out from the holster on her hip. “Like this.”

She called out a few words and her ribbon wand trailed through the air, sending out the magic. The window changed from a pristine prairie to a dull, flat wall, ever so slightly glossy. It took Daniel a moment to get it–he was literally watching paint dry.

“There,” Rachel said. “I think that’s a more engaging view, don’t you?”

“Put it back,” Daniel snapped, annoyed.

“Do it yourself, I’m not your nanny,” Rachel sneered. “I just showed you the spell, didn’t I?”

Daniel knew he was caught. He could give up and leave the window as is, or he could demonstrate what they both knew–he didn’t have the precision skills to repeat the spell.

Grumbling, he gave up, unwilling to take the bait and demonstrate his incompetence for Rachel a second time. “Okay, fine. Very funny. Is there anything else, or can I get my uniform and get ready for the opening ceremonies?”

“Fine,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes. “Since you’re being fussy, this is appropriate now anyways.”

“Just conjure my clothes already, and I’ll–” Daniel frowned at Rachel’s giggling response. “What?”

She stepped forward, turning to face him. “You haven’t put it together yet, spark?”

“Put what together?” Daniel asked.

Extending her wand so that the ribbon drifted all the way down to the floor, Rachel said, “You came to a witch’s school, Danny boy, and they put me in charge of your accommodations. Boys aren’t allowed in the girls’ room, after all, and I don’t think it’s appropriate to let you have the privilege of using the staff restrooms.”

“Eh…” Daniel frowned, his brow furrowing. “So, what? Is there a bucket I have to use, or…?”

“I thought about it,” Rachel conceded. “But you don’t know how to do vanishings, do you? And I’m certainly not coming to clean up after you.”

She was right. He swallowed, not liking where this was going.

“So,” Rachel said. “Hold still. I’m going to get you into uniform.”

Before Daniel could object, she spun her wand in the air, creating a fluttering circle of ribbon that formed into a magical pool, directed right at him. He took a step back, nervously, but then the circle of deep power lashed out, going over his body from his head to down to his toes, transmuting his clothes every step of the way.

At first, it was expected. A tall, pointed hat flopped onto his head, a bit too big for him, a bit lopsided, so tall that the tip fell off to the left. Two black ribbons appeared in his hair, and the shirt unwove and reformed from the same thread, turning from a plain tee to a creased white top with plaid red tie that hung down to his belly button. A long sleeve jacket formed over it all, and he had to admit–it fit great.

Then the spell got down to his waist. His shorts morphed and poofed out, turning to a matching plaid miniskirt that only came down halfway to his knees. He felt something else happening, too; his boxers seemed to suddenly swell, as though there was a pillow knitting itself into shape between his thighs.

Finally, before he could investigate what’d happened to his underwear, the magic moved down below his knees. His socks extended in length, climbing up to his thighs and capping off with lace, transmuted into cotton stockings, and to cap it off his shoes became shiny, black kitten-heel pumps.

Daniel blinked down at himself, unsure what he’d expected. This was the school uniform–Rachel was wearing almost the same thing, though her skirt came down much further.

“What’s with the miniskirt?” he demanded.

“It’s within regulation,” Rachel smirked, already prepared to answer. “Minimum length is twelve inches. If you don’t like it, conjure your own.”

Daniel accepted that. It wasn’t that bad, even if he didn’t particularly enjoy showing so much leg. He had to know something else, though–putting a thumb in the waist of the skirt, he pulled it out so he could see–

“Hey!” Daniel objected, eyes widening. “Why the hell did you put me in a… In a…”

“You still haven’t figured it out, have you?” Rachel snorted. “That’s precious.”

Daniel pulled up the skirt completely, so he could be certain he hadn’t mistaken anything, but it was plain as day: A puffy white diaper had been conjured between his legs, with cheerful wetness indicator stars and moons printed down the crotch.

“A diaper isn’t part of the uniform regulation,” Daniel shot. “This is crap.”

Satisfied with his reaction, Rachel leaned against the door. Visibly savoring how flustered and mad Daniel had grown, she said, “Oh, no crap yet–unless you really need to go potty that bad, I guess.”

“I’m taking this off,” Daniel said.

“You’re doing no such thing,” Rachel replied, raising her hand to count off. “Let’s go down the list, shall we? First: You’re not allowed in any girls-only spaces. Second: This school wasn’t built with any boy spaces in mind. Third: I’m in charge of ensuring your needs get met, including deciding how and where you go to the toilet. Fourth, and I cannot stress this enough: I hate you.”

He blinked. “Wait, no. You can’t be serious.”

Rachel laughed. “Sure you don’t want to quit yet, potty pants?”

Daniel started to shake his head. “No, but–

“Diaper pail’s under your desk.” Rachel holstered her wand. “I confirmed with the dean, and she agreed with my idea: We’ve officially declared that diapers are part of your uniform. When you need a changie-poo, there’s spares in your dresser. Oh, and if you think to try anything–if we catch you out of your drawers, you won’t like the results. The dean said you should at least be allowed to change your baby bottoms for now–give me a reason, I’ll take that away, and then we’ll see how Mr. Big Powerful Warlock likes asking his prefect for didee changes.”

Gaping, caught without words, Daniel just stood there holding up his skirt, face bright red.

Rachel pursed her lips, mouth quirking at the corner into a thoughtful smirk. Taking out her wand, she cast one last spell, power lashing past him, to the window.

Then she slammed the door behind her, and Daniel could hear her strutting away down the hall.

One thing was certain–Rachel wasn’t done coming up with ways to make his school experience hell. She wanted him gone, and this was just a taste of how she’d bend the rules to push him out.

Daniel turned to look at the window, at what she’d conjured. He saw a recursive view–the window was looking into his own room, with him right in the center, probably an exact duplicate of what Rachel had seen a moment ago.

He now had an excellent view of himself, holding up his skirt to show off the diaper that’d been summoned between his legs. Blushing, humiliated, and forever frozen in the moment, never lowering the skirt or regaining any of his dignity.

Daniel ground his teeth.

He hated bullies, he hated people who lorded their authority over others to get what they wanted. When he became High Warlock, the first thing he’d do is find anyone like that and remove them from power.

For now, though, he’d just have to deal with it. Let Rachel throw whatever she could at him. He was up for the challenge.