The interior of the Liber Institute managed to look both impressively professional and surprisingly welcoming—like someone had taken the best elements of a prep school library, a modern laboratory, and a comfortable community center, then enhanced everything with thoughtful magical improvements that prioritized function over flash. The entrance hall featured polished hardwood floors that seemed to absorb sound rather than echo it, walls lined with portraits that stayed perfectly still like normal paintings (which was somehow more reassuring than talking ones), and comfortable seating areas arranged around what appeared to be a reception desk staffed by actual human beings rather than magical creatures with attitude problems.
The lighting was warm and natural, coming from windows that seemed larger on the inside than they should have been based on the building's exterior, supplemented by what might have been magical enhancement but felt completely organic. The overall effect was of a place designed by people who understood that learning happened best in environments where students felt safe, comfortable, and respected rather than intimidated.
"Now this," Ben said with that particular warmth that made even casual observations sound like profound wisdom about the human condition, "looks like a place where education is the actual priority. You can tell they've thought about every detail—the lighting, the acoustics, even the way the furniture's arranged. This is what happens when people who actually care about kids design a school."
He gestured broadly with the kind of paternal pride that suggested he was already mentally enrolling Peter in advanced courses.
"Look at those study areas—they're not trying to intimidate anyone. They're saying 'come sit down, let's figure this out together.' That's real education right there."
May nodded with that blend of protective maternal instinct and practical New York assessment, her sharp eyes cataloging every safety feature and comfort consideration with the thoroughness of someone who'd spent years evaluating environments for their potential impact on teenage wellbeing.
"Professional without being intimidating," she observed, her voice carrying that particular mixture of relief and approval that suggested her protective radar had found no immediate threats. "Like they understand that good teaching matters more than impressive special effects. Peter, look at how organized everything is—you're going to love this place."
Peter, bouncing slightly on his toes with that restless energy that seemed to power him through pure enthusiasm mixed with barely contained nervous excitement, was already cataloging architectural details with scientific precision.
"The acoustic dampening is incredible," he said with rapid-fire intensity that suggested his brain was processing multiple fascinations simultaneously. "And did you notice how the windows seem bigger inside than outside? That's got to be some kind of spatial manipulation charm, right? But implemented so subtly that it feels completely natural instead of disorienting. That's seriously advanced magical architecture!"
A woman approached them with the kind of professional warmth that suggested years of experience welcoming nervous families to magical education, and immediately radiated a magnetism that made even formal introductions feel like friendly conversations. She appeared to be in her forties, with silver-streaked brown hair pulled back in a practical style, wearing robes that somehow managed to look both traditionally magical and completely contemporary. Her smile was genuine rather than rehearsed, and she moved with the confident grace of someone who was genuinely passionate about her work.
"Good morning," she said, her voice carrying a slight New England accent that made her sound both authoritative and approachable, with that particular warmth that suggested she genuinely enjoyed meeting new students and their families. "I'm Professor Diana Marshall, Director of Student Services. You must be our exchange students and their families."
Aurora stepped forward with theatrical efficiency that could make even casual introductions feel like significant diplomatic occasions, her presence somehow elevating the entire interaction to the level of ceremonial importance.
"Professor Marshall," she said with diplomatic grace that suggested years of managing complex international educational arrangements, "may I present our American students: Peter Parker, Mary Jane Watson, Ned Leeds, Gwen Stacy, and Felicia Hardy. Along with their families, and young Harry Parker, who will be observing today's sessions."
Harry stepped forward with a particular combination of natural confidence and genuine humility that made him seem both older and younger than his nine years, his emerald green eyes bright with curiosity and anticipation.
"Thank you for letting me observe, Professor Marshall," he said with careful politeness that didn't quite hide his excitement about finally getting to see structured magical education in action. "I know it's unusual for someone who's not officially enrolled yet, but I really want to understand how proper magical instruction works."
Professor Marshall's sharp eyes swept over the group with professional assessment that missed nothing—nervous energy, excited anticipation, protective family dynamics, and one carefully disguised nine-year-old whose presence clearly required special consideration. When her gaze settled on Harry, her expression showed both understanding and gentle amusement.
"Not unusual at all, Mr. Parker," she said with warmth that made special accommodations feel like standard procedure rather than extraordinary measures. "We believe understanding magical education helps everyone make better decisions about their future studies. Welcome to the Liber Institute."
Peter's hand shot up so fast it probably qualified as its own form of kinetic energy, his enthusiasm making him look like he'd been storing questions under pressure and was now experiencing system overflow.
"How do the safety protocols work for beginners?" he asked, his words tumbling out with that particular Tom rapid-fire intensity that suggested this had been his primary concern since approximately the moment he'd learned magic existed. "Like, what kind of containment systems are in place for accidental spell discharge? Are there magical emergency procedures? Spell reversal protocols? What happens if someone's wand malfunctions? Is there a magical first aid station? Are instructors trained in emergency magical medicine? What about protective charms on the building itself? Are there automatic magical fire suppression systems? Do you have backup power sources for essential safety systems?"
"Peter," May said with gentle amusement, reaching over to pat his shoulder with maternal fondness, "maybe let her answer the first ten questions before you ask the next twenty."
"But these are important safety considerations!" Peter protested, his scientific mind clearly unable to shut down the risk assessment process once it had begun. "I mean, we're talking about manipulating fundamental forces of reality here. The potential for catastrophic failure—"
"Is exactly why," Professor Marshall interrupted with a laugh that made even anxious students feel better, "all excellent concerns that demonstrate appropriate respect for magical safety. We'll cover comprehensive safety protocols during orientation, but I can assure you that student welfare is our absolute first priority."
She paused, studying Peter with the kind of experienced educator recognition that suggested she'd dealt with many scientifically-minded students who approached magic with systematic concern about potential hazards.
"You know what? Since safety is clearly important to you, would you like me to start with a quick overview of our emergency procedures? Sometimes it helps anxious students focus better when they understand the safety framework first."
Peter's entire face lit up with gratitude and relief, his nervous energy shifting from anxiety to genuine excitement about systematic safety planning.
"Really? You'd do that? That would be amazing! I mean, I know I probably seem paranoid, but when you're dealing with forces that can literally alter reality—"
"Paranoid is just another word for properly prepared," Professor Marshall said with approval that made Peter stand up straighter. "We have seventeen different safety systems operating simultaneously during student practice sessions, plus emergency protocols for approximately forty-three different types of magical accidents, and instructor training that includes both theoretical magical theory and practical emergency response."
"Seventeen safety systems," Peter repeated with wonder, his anxiety visibly decreasing as the information sank in. "And forty-three different emergency protocols. That's... that's actually incredibly thorough."
Ben leaned over with paternal pride that radiated a warmth that made even casual observations feel significant.
"See, Pete? These people know what they're doing. They've thought through everything you're worried about and then some."
"Plus about twenty things you haven't thought to worry about yet," Professor Marshall added with gentle humor that suggested decades of experience with student safety concerns.
"Oh," Peter said, looking both relieved and slightly disappointed that his comprehensive anxiety hadn't uncovered any overlooked safety gaps. "That's... actually really reassuring."
Gwen looked up from the notebook she'd somehow managed to extract and organize in the thirty seconds since they'd walked in, her Emma Stone systematic curiosity clearly working through the practical implications of magical education logistics.
"What's the structure for today's sessions?" she asked with methodical precision that suggested she needed to understand the framework before she could properly engage with the content. "Are we talking about theoretical introduction, practical demonstration, hands-on practice, or some combination? Because our preparation approach should probably match the instructional methodology, and I'd like to organize my notes accordingly."
She held up her notebook, which already contained what appeared to be a comprehensive outline format with sections for theory, practice, observations, and questions.
"I may have... pre-organized my note-taking system," she admitted with slight embarrassment that didn't quite hide her pride in thorough preparation.
Professor Marshall's expression showed obvious approval for the question and the preparation, suggesting she appreciated students who thought systematically about learning processes.
"Combination approach," she confirmed with professional satisfaction that made Gwen's organizational instincts feel validated rather than excessive. "We'll begin with theoretical foundation—basic principles of magical energy, wand compatibility, spell structure. Then controlled demonstration with instructor supervision. Finally, carefully monitored practical application of fundamental techniques."
"So theory, demo, practice," Gwen said, already updating her note-taking format with satisfied efficiency. "That's perfect. I can adjust my organizational system to match the lesson structure."
"Fundamental techniques like what?" MJ asked with that particular blend of artistic curiosity and sharp intelligence, her keen eyes already tracking the creative possibilities of whatever they were about to learn. "Are we talking about dramatic magical effects, or more like... magical fundamentals that build toward more complex applications?"
Her voice carried that particular MJ combination of genuine interest and slight skepticism that suggested she was simultaneously excited about magical possibilities and protective of realistic expectations.
"Levitation charm," Professor Marshall replied with calm authority that made potentially intimidating magical concepts sound manageable. "Simple object animation. Basic illumination spell. Nothing dramatic, but essential building blocks for all subsequent magical education."
"Building blocks," MJ repeated with artistic appreciation for systematic skill development. "I like that. Like learning basic drawing techniques before you attempt portraits, or understanding color theory before you start mixing complex palettes."
"Exactly that analogy," Professor Marshall confirmed. "Magic is like any other complex skill set—master the fundamentals first, then build toward advanced applications."
"Levitation," Ned repeated with a wonder that made him sound like he was witnessing minor miracles on a regular basis, clutching Felix protectively while his eyes went wide with amazement. "Like, actual levitation? Making things float in the air with magic? That's... that's basically telekinesis! We're going to learn magical telekinesis!"
Felix squeaked what might have been excitement, agreement, or a demand for treats that could also fly. With Pygmy Puffs, the three options were often indistinguishable.
"Magical telekinesis," Ned continued with building enthusiasm that made his voice crack slightly. "Do you realize how cool that is? I mean, people have been dreaming about telekinesis for centuries, and we're just going to... learn it. In a classroom. With proper instruction. This is the best day ever."
George Leeds, standing behind his son with an expression of paternal pride mixed with gentle bewilderment at his child's enthusiasm levels, shook his head with affectionate exasperation.
"Ned has been talking about magical possibilities since approximately six o'clock this morning," he said with the patient tone of someone who'd fielded approximately forty-seven excited questions about spell-casting over breakfast. "I think he's more excited about this than Christmas, birthdays, and summer vacation combined."
Helen Leeds nodded with a combination of maternal pride and practical concern, her protective instincts clearly pleased by the professional educational environment but still tracking every safety consideration.
"He's been carrying that creature around all morning like it's going to provide magical consulting services," she observed with gentle amusement at her son's attachment to his Pygmy Puff. "Felix is apparently his emotional support magical companion for today's big adventure."
"Felix is very supportive," Ned said seriously, stroking the small creature with careful affection. "Plus he's already magical, so he understands what we're getting into better than we do. Right, Felix?"
Felix squeaked what sounded like confident agreement, his color shifting to encouraging shades of blue and green.
Harry, who had been listening with that focused intensity he brought to anything involving his friends' education and safety, raised his hand with characteristic directness.
"What about observation protocols?" he asked with nine-year-old logic that cut straight through to essential practical questions, his emerald eyes serious as he considered the logistics of non-participant safety. "Like, where should I sit so I can see everything without getting in the way of actual spell practice? And are there safety considerations for non-participants in magical practice environments?"
Professor Marshall studied him with sharp eyes that clearly recognized both his genuine intellectual curiosity and the unusual circumstances that had brought him here as an observer rather than participant.
"You'll have a designated observation area with optimal viewing angles and complete safety containment," she assured him with careful attention that suggested she understood exactly why his presence required special consideration. "Plus educational materials designed specifically for pre-enrollment students who want to understand magical theory before beginning practical application."
Harry's face lit up with that particular combination of gratitude and excitement that made his emerald eyes sparkle with anticipation.
"Educational materials?" he asked hopefully, his voice carrying that eager note that suggested he'd been hoping for exactly this kind of systematic learning opportunity. "Like, actual books about how magic works? With explanations and illustrations and maybe theoretical frameworks that help you understand the underlying principles?"
"Exactly that," Professor Marshall confirmed with warmth that suggested she appreciated curious students regardless of their enrollment status. "We believe understanding theory enhances practical application significantly."
Phillip Watson had somehow managed to extract his notebook despite his wife's previous confiscation attempts, and was already scribbling observations about pedagogical methodology with that intensity that made educational theory sound like groundbreaking philosophical inquiry.
"Fascinating approach," he murmured, his voice taking on that particular academic cadence that suggested he was formulating complex theoretical frameworks in real time. "Theory-based foundation followed by supervised practice—this represents a, uh, a significantly more systematic approach to magical education than the traditional British model of, uh, 'here's a wand, try not to explode anything important' that we observed at Hogwarts."
He paused in his note-taking, looking up with that particular expression of intellectual fascination mixed with slight bewilderment at the complexity of what he was observing.
"The comparative pedagogical implications are extraordinary," he continued with building enthusiasm, his pen moving rapidly across the notebook pages. "We're witnessing two completely different philosophical approaches to magical education—British emphasis on tradition and intuitive development versus American focus on systematic methodology and safety-conscious—"
"Philip," Madelyn warned with a combination of affection and firm authority, recognizing the signs of impending dissertation development and moving to prevent academic overflow in inappropriate settings.
"But the preliminary theoretical framework suggests fundamental differences in educational philosophy that could have profound implications for—"
Madelyn smoothly removed the pen from his hand with practiced efficiency that suggested years of managing her husband's tendency to turn every observation into comprehensive academic analysis.
"Experience first," she said with gentle authority that brooked no argument but somehow made the interruption feel supportive rather than restrictive. "Analysis later."
"But the preliminary theoretical framework—"
"Later, honey."
Phillip looked slightly mournful at the loss of his note-taking implement but nodded with the resigned acceptance of someone who'd learned that his wife's timing was generally better than his own when it came to social appropriateness.
Felicia smirked with that particular appreciation for well-managed family dynamics, her confident intuition clearly suggesting that domestic negotiations were just as entertaining in magical contexts as they were in regular ones.
"I like their system," she said with serene certainty about favorable outcomes, her voice carrying that particular combination of confidence and casual authority that made her observations sound like prophecies. "Systematic, safe, educational—plus it feels like the kind of environment where good things happen to people who deserve them. Very positive energy."
Walter Hardy nodded with professional assessment, his security consultant instincts clearly pleased by the evidence of comprehensive safety planning and institutional competence.
"Thorough preparation prevents most emergency situations," he said with approval born of years evaluating organizational safety culture, his experienced eyes cataloging every visible security measure with satisfaction. "This looks like an institution that takes responsibility seriously rather than relying on dramatic improvisation."
George Stacy had been quietly observing the entire interaction with a combination of paternal protectiveness and practical skepticism, his cop instincts clearly running background assessments on everything from institutional competence to individual safety measures.
"What's your instructor-to-student ratio during practical sessions?" he asked with the direct authority of someone accustomed to asking questions that needed real answers rather than reassuring generalities. "Because I've seen what happens when kids get access to powerful tools without adequate supervision, and it's usually not pretty."
Professor Marshall's expression showed respect for the question rather than defensiveness at the implied concern, suggesting she appreciated parents who took safety seriously enough to ask hard questions.
"Maximum six students per instructor during spell practice," she replied with professional confidence that made the ratio sound both safe and educationally effective. "Plus assistant instructors for additional support, and magical monitoring systems that alert supervisors to any unusual magical discharge patterns."
"Six to one with backup monitoring," George repeated with obvious approval. "That's better supervision than most regular schools manage for basic classroom activities."
Professor Marshall gestured toward a corridor lined with what appeared to be classroom doors, each one marked with clear signage that indicated specific magical subjects and skill levels.
"Shall we begin with the orientation classroom?" she suggested with the kind of confident authority that made following instructions feel like participating in something important rather than simply being managed.
They followed her down the corridor, passing rooms where other students were clearly engaged in magical education activities. Through one open door, they could see teenagers practicing what appeared to be basic spell-casting with careful instructor supervision. Through another, a small group was studying what looked like magical theory using textbooks that occasionally glowed when opened to particularly important passages.
The sounds were reassuring rather than intimidating—patient instruction, careful questions and answers, the occasional controlled magical discharge followed by immediate feedback and correction. It felt like a real school where real learning was happening at a manageable pace, rather than a mystical institution where students were expected to figure everything out through dramatic trial and error.
"It sounds like a normal school," Harry observed with relief, his voice carrying that particular combination of maturity and genuine surprise, as if he'd been worried about intimidation tactics and was pleasantly surprised by educational professionalism. "Like, people teaching and other people learning, instead of mysterious magical challenges and cryptic instructions."
"That's exactly what it is," Professor Marshall confirmed with satisfaction that suggested she'd fielded similar concerns from many families transitioning to magical education. "Magic is a learnable skill set, not a mystical trial by ordeal. Good teaching produces better results than dramatic atmospheric pressure."
"Plus," she added with gentle humor that suggested years of experience with student anxiety, "mysterious magical challenges and cryptic instructions are terrible pedagogical tools. Clear instruction and systematic practice work much better for actual skill development."
Peter's anxiety levels visibly decreased as this information sank in, his Tom Holland hyperactive energy shifting from nervous excitement to genuine enthusiasm for structured learning opportunities.
"So we're going to learn actual techniques," he said with growing confidence, his voice taking on that particular note of someone whose scientific worldview was successfully integrating magical possibilities, "with qualified instruction and appropriate safety measures and systematic curriculum development?"
"Precisely," Professor Marshall confirmed with approval for his understanding. "Magic is complex, but complexity doesn't require chaos. Clear instruction, careful practice, and systematic skill development produce competent magical practitioners much more efficiently than traditional sink-or-swim approaches."
"Traditional sink-or-swim approaches," MJ repeated with that particular dry humor that made even casual observations sound insightful. "You mean the 'figure it out or accidentally turn yourself into a toad' method of magical education? Yeah, I can see how systematic instruction might work better."
"Significantly better," Professor Marshall confirmed with a laugh that suggested she'd encountered plenty of students who'd heard concerning stories about traditional magical education methods.
The orientation classroom they entered was designed with impressive attention to both learning effectiveness and student comfort. Large windows provided natural light supplemented by magical enhancement that felt completely organic. Desks were arranged in a collaborative configuration that encouraged interaction while maintaining clear sight lines to the instructor area. The walls displayed educational materials—charts showing wand movements, diagrams of spell structure, safety protocols posted with official authority—that suggested serious academic content delivered through accessible methodology.
Most importantly, the room felt safe. Not just physically secure, but emotionally supportive—the kind of environment where making mistakes was treated as part of the learning process rather than evidence of failure, where questions were encouraged rather than merely tolerated, and where students could focus on education rather than survival.
"Okay, this is definitely better than Hogwarts," Gwen said with systematic assessment as she surveyed the learning environment. "Look at the organizational systems—everything's clearly labeled, the information is presented logically, and the furniture is actually designed for comfortable learning rather than medieval atmospheric effect."
"Plus," Ned added with enthusiasm as he settled Felix into a comfortable position on his shoulder, "no moving staircases trying to dump you into dangerous locations, no portraits giving unsolicited life advice, and no mysterious rooms that might contain deadly challenges designed by previous generations of educators with questionable judgment."
Harry settled into his designated observation area with educational materials that looked genuinely engaging rather than condescendingly simplified, his emerald eyes immediately beginning to scan through what appeared to be an introductory text on magical theory with that focused concentration he brought to subjects that genuinely interested him.
"This is incredible," he said with quiet wonder as he flipped through the pages, his voice carrying that particular note of someone discovering exactly what they'd been hoping to find. "Look at these diagrams—they actually explain how spells work instead of just telling you to memorize incantations. And the theoretical framework makes sense! It's like they actually want people to understand what they're doing."
The five American students took seats with varying degrees of nervous excitement. Peter organized his notebook and writing materials with scientific precision, clearly preparing to document every detail for future analysis and probably eventual systematic review. MJ arranged her art supplies with creative anticipation, ready to capture both visual and conceptual elements of magical instruction through her unique artistic perspective. Gwen set up her systematic note-taking system with methodical efficiency, creating what appeared to be a comprehensive organizational framework that could probably serve as a template for future students.
Ned clutched his educational pamphlet collection while Felix provided moral support from his shoulder perch, the Pygmy Puff's presence clearly serving as both emotional comfort and magical consultation services. Felicia settled into her chair with confident grace that suggested she was prepared for whatever interesting developments the universe was about to provide, her serene certainty making it seem like successful spell-casting was simply inevitable.
Professor Marshall stood at the front of the room with that professional presence that commanded attention without demanding it, her posture radiating competence and genuine enthusiasm for her subject matter in a way that made even potentially intimidating topics feel approachable.
"Welcome," she said with warmth that made the formal beginning feel like an invitation rather than an obligation, her voice carrying that particular combination of authority and genuine care that suggested years of successful magical education, "to your first lesson in practical magical theory. Let's begin with the most fundamental question: what, exactly, is magic?"
Peter's hand shot up immediately with his scientific curiosity completely unleashed now that they were in an environment where questions were officially encouraged rather than merely tolerated.
"Is it a form of energy that can be manipulated through specific techniques?" he asked with rapid-fire intensity that suggested he'd been storing theoretical questions under pressure for weeks and was now experiencing systematic intellectual release. "Or is it more like a field phenomenon that wizards can access through properly calibrated instruments? What about conservation laws—does magical energy follow thermodynamic principles, or does it operate according to completely different physical frameworks? Are there quantum mechanical implications? Is there a magical equivalent to Einstein's mass-energy relationship?"
May looked over at her nephew with a combination of maternal pride and gentle amusement at his enthusiasm levels.
"Peter's been thinking about magical physics since approximately the moment he learned magic existed," she explained to Professor Marshall with affectionate tolerance for his intellectual intensity. "I think he's been trying to integrate supernatural phenomena into his existing scientific worldview."
"Which is exactly the right approach," Professor Marshall said with obvious pleasure at having students who approached magic with systematic thinking, her approval making Peter sit up straighter with validation. "The answer is more complex than any single theoretical model, but your instinct to approach this scientifically will serve you very well in magical education."
She moved to the whiteboard with practiced efficiency, beginning to sketch diagrams that somehow managed to make abstract magical concepts look logical and comprehensible rather than mystical and incomprehensible.
"Magic," she continued with the authority of someone who'd spent years thinking about pedagogical approaches to supernatural education, "is the manipulation of reality through focused intent, channeled through properly trained magical cores, and directed via compatible instruments—in this case, wands."
Gwen looked up from her rapid note-taking with systematic interest in the theoretical framework being presented.
"So there are three essential components," she said with analytical precision that suggested she was already organizing the information into usable categories for both current understanding and future reference. "Intent—mental focus and desired outcome. Magical core—personal energy source that requires training to access properly. Wand—technological interface that enhances precision and control."
She paused, consulting her notes with characteristic thoroughness.
"That's actually a remarkably systematic approach to something that's usually presented as mysterious and intuitive," she added with obvious approval for logical organization.
"Exactly right," Professor Marshall confirmed with satisfaction at her quick grasp of the framework. "Think of it as technology that operates through biological interface rather than mechanical systems. Your magical core is the power source, your focused intent is the programming, and your wand is the precision instrument that translates your instructions into reality modifications."
MJ looked up from her artistic documentation of the lesson with that particular creative interest in the practical applications of reality modification.
"So when you cast a spell," she said with that logical approach that made complex concepts sound straightforward while simultaneously revealing their deeper implications, "you're basically giving the universe very specific instructions about how you want things to be different, and magic is the system that makes those changes happen according to your specifications?"
"That's a surprisingly accurate analogy," Professor Marshall said with genuine admiration for the insight, her approval suggesting that artistic perspectives often provided unique clarity on magical concepts. "Magic is indeed a system for implementing intended changes to reality, though the process requires considerable training to achieve reliable results."
"So it's like..." MJ continued, her artistic mind clearly working through the creative implications, "reality editing. You identify what you want to change, you develop the technical skills to make precise modifications, and you use the appropriate tools to implement your vision."
"Reality editing," Felicia repeated with a confident appreciation for elegant explanations. "I like that. It makes magic sound like an advanced form of creative problem-solving rather than mysterious supernatural phenomenon."
Ned raised his hand with characteristic enthusiasm, Felix squeaking what might have been encouragement from his shoulder perch.
"What about the learning curve?" he asked with practical concern born of his general approach to new skills and probably some concern about accidentally editing reality in unfortunate directions. "Like, how long does it take to go from 'accidentally turning your homework into butterflies' to 'successfully levitating objects with precision control'?"
Felix squeaked what sounded like agreement with the question, his color cycling through thoughtful shades of purple that suggested he was also curious about realistic expectations for magical skill development.
Professor Marshall's expression suggested this was one of her favorite questions, because it demonstrated genuine understanding of the difference between magical potential and magical competence.
"Variable, depending on individual aptitude and practice consistency," she replied with professional honesty that didn't sugar-coat the challenge while still making it sound achievable. "Most students achieve basic spell reliability within their first semester of focused instruction. True precision and advanced applications typically require several years of systematic skill development."
"Several years," Ned repeated with wonder that suggested he found long-term skill development more exciting than intimidating. "That's like... that's like learning a musical instrument or mastering martial arts, except instead of making music or getting really good at fighting, you're learning to edit reality."
"That's actually a very good analogy," Professor Marshall confirmed with approval for his understanding. "Magic is like any complex skill set—it requires patience, practice, and systematic development. But the results are worth the investment."
"Several years," Felicia repeated with that confident certainty that suggested she found long-term challenges more interesting than intimidating. "That sounds like exactly the kind of challenge that gets more interesting the deeper you go. Plus, think about how much you could accomplish with several years of reality editing practice."
Harry looked up from his theoretical reading materials with that characteristic directness, his question carrying that particular weight that suggested he understood more about magical education than most nine-year-olds had any reason to.
"What about safety margins for beginners?" he asked with nine-year-old logic that cut straight through to essential practical concerns, his emerald eyes serious as he considered the implications of reality manipulation by inexperienced practitioners. "Like, what's the worst thing that can realistically happen during basic spell practice with proper supervision?"
Professor Marshall's expression showed obvious respect for the question, suggesting she appreciated students who thought seriously about both potential and limitations rather than getting carried away by exciting possibilities.
"With appropriate containment fields and instructor oversight, the most serious likely consequence is minor magical exhaustion—similar to physical fatigue from exercise," she explained with reassuring competence that made potentially concerning magical practice sound manageable. "Spell reversal protocols handle most accidental effects, and magical first aid addresses any minor injuries that might occur during practice sessions."
"So basically," Peter said with growing confidence as his anxiety gave way to genuine excitement about structured learning opportunities, his Tom Holland enthusiasm building as his scientific understanding of magical safety expanded, "it's like any other advanced technical skill—potentially dangerous without proper training and supervision, but systematically learnable with appropriate instruction and safety measures."
"Plus," he added with that particular rapid-fire intensity that suggested his brain was making multiple connections simultaneously, "the safety systems you've described suggest that magical accidents are both predictable and manageable, which means this is actually a well-understood field of study rather than mysterious supernatural phenomenon with unpredictable consequences."
"Precisely," Professor Marshall confirmed with satisfaction at his understanding. "Magic is a sophisticated skill set, not a mystical gamble. Clear instruction, careful practice, and systematic development produce competent practitioners much more reliably than traditional trial-and-error approaches."
She moved to a cabinet that contained what appeared to be practice wands—shorter and simpler than the personalized instruments they'd purchased at Ollivanders, but clearly designed for educational safety rather than maximum magical power.
"For today's initial practice," she announced with the kind of calm authority that made potentially nerve-wracking activities feel manageable and professionally supervised, "you'll be using training wands calibrated for beginning students. These limit magical output to safe levels while providing authentic spell-casting experience."
Peter examined his assigned training wand with scientific fascination, his analytical mind clearly working through the implications of magical safety technology with the same systematic approach he brought to all technical challenges.
"So these are like... magical training wheels?" he asked with genuine curiosity about the engineering principles involved rather than any concern about using simplified equipment. "Designed to prevent serious accidents while students develop proper technique and control?"
He turned the wand over in his hands with careful attention to its construction and balance.
"The weight distribution is different from our Ollivander's wands," he observed with scientific precision. "Lighter, but the grip feels more stable. And there's something... contained about the magical resonance. Like it's designed to provide feedback without overwhelming the user."
"Exactly that analogy," Professor Marshall confirmed with approval for his quick grasp of the concept and his systematic analysis of the safety features. "They allow real magical practice with built-in safety limitations that prevent dangerous magical discharge or uncontrolled spell effects."
Ned held his training wand with careful reverence, his respect for the magnitude of what they were about to attempt clearly overriding any concern about using simplified equipment.
"This is incredible," he said with wonder that made him sound younger than his eleven years while simultaneously conveying genuine appreciation for the opportunity. "We're holding actual magic wands. We're about to cast actual spells. This is like... this is like the coolest thing that has ever happened in the history of cool things happening."
Felix squeaked what sounded like enthusiastic agreement, his color cycling through excited shades of gold and orange that matched Ned's emotional state and suggested the Pygmy Puff was also invested in the upcoming magical education experience.
"Felix agrees," Ned added with serious consultation of his magical companion. "He says this is definitely in the top five most exciting educational experiences he's ever observed, and he's been to Hogwarts, so he knows what he's talking about."
George Leeds shook his head with a combination of paternal pride and gentle bewilderment at his son's enthusiasm levels.
"Ned has been talking Felix through the entire magical education experience since this morning," he explained to Professor Marshall with affectionate tolerance for his son's tendency to treat his Pygmy Puff as both emotional support and magical consulting services. "I think Felix is getting a complete education in American magical pedagogy whether he wants one or not."
Helen Leeds nodded with practical concern tempered by maternal pride in her son's excitement.
"At least Felix is a good listener," she observed with gentle humor. "And he's probably learned more about magical theory in the last hour than most creatures learn in their entire lives."
Professor Marshall smiled with genuine warmth at their enthusiasm, her professional satisfaction clearly enhanced by having students who approached magical education with both respect and excitement rather than either excessive fear or casual indifference.
"Shall we begin with basic technique?" she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew they were more than ready to start learning actual magic and had probably been ready since approximately the moment they'd walked into the building.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord (HHHwRsB6wd) server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Can't wait to see you there!