If the first day of classes wasn't enough to make Felicia nervous, the threatening note, and the resulting lack of sleep, made her even more so.

She spent the night sitting on the windowsill wrapped in a blanket, overlooking the empty field, just waiting for someone to barge through her door.

Whenever she dozed off, nightmares followed; someone without a face kicking down her door with a battle axe, torch, pitchfork, or some other weapon in hand. Sometimes the weapon was replaced with a gooseberry pie, which would be thrown directly into her face, jolting her awake every time.

Her mind raced with questions. What had she done? Who was the note from? Should she tell a teacher? Her brothers? Her parents?

As she watched the sun rise, her stomach churned, already dreading the day ahead. Her confidence and preparedness didn't seem to matter anymore. Still, she didn't want to let herself down, or her parents, so she decided not to skip the first day of classes.

As the sun crept over the trees, a symphony of bells rang out—the Academy's own alarm clock. Felicia rubbed her eyes, the sound giving her a slight headache. She stood and tossed the blanket onto her bed. In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face to wake herself up, changed into her school uniform, and headed out for breakfast. Today would be the day she tried coffee.

In the dining hall, she kept glancing around, searching for anything suspicious, but nothing stood out. Then again, she was probably too tired to notice. Everyone else was sleepily grabbing breakfast and sitting with friends. The room buzzed with chatter and smelled like warm bread and sausage.

Felicia headed straight for the tea and coffee stand, poured herself a cup of hot black coffee, and took a sip, immediately recoiling.

"Ugh, how do people drink this?" she muttered.

"Usually with a lot more sugar," said a familiar voice.

Felicia turned to see Maris, holding her own cup. "You mind?" Maris asked, reaching for Felicia's.

Felicia happily handed over the cup of bitterness. She watched as Maris dumped in several spoonfuls of sugar, added milk, and drizzled in some vanilla.

"Here, try this," Maris said, handing it back.

Felicia took a cautious sip. Her eyes widened. "Mmm! This is so much better. Thank you!"

"No problem! Sometimes I even add whipped cream. You look like you didn't sleep a wink."

"I didn't," Felicia admitted. She hesitated. Could Maris have left the note? "I... read something kind of scary last night."

"Scary?" Maris grinned. "I didn't take you for a horror fan. You just seem so proper."

Felicia scoffed. "I'm not a horror fan. And I'm not that proper. I didn't really read it on purpose, I suppose."

An awkward silence followed as Maris began walking. Felicia trailed after her.

"So," Maris said, "you read something scary without meaning to?"

"Yeah," Felicia said flatly. "Let's go with that."

"Well, you'll have to lend it to me sometime. I love that stuff. My mom actually wrote a horror story about her own life—like, what if she'd married someone else and never met my dad? It's wild. It's called The Tiny Sea Maiden. Kind of a mouthful, if you ask me."

They sat at an empty table, which didn't stay empty for long as Fergus and Farkle dropped into the seats across from them, their trays piled high with food.

"Gooood morning!" Fergus announced.

Felicia yawned. "Good morning."

"Yeesh! You look awful!"

"Wow. Thanks for the compliment."

Farkle elbowed Fergus in the ribs. "Ow! I didn't mean it like that! I was just stating facts?" Another elbow followed.

"It's okay," Felicia said. "I know I look like death. Hence the coffee." She lifted her cup.

Maris chimed in, "She stayed up late reading a scary book."

"Felicia read a scary book?" Farkle said skeptically.

Felicia responded by dropping her forehead onto the table with a groan. If Maris hadn't caught what Felicia was really trying to say, and didn't seem suspicious at all, then she wasn't the one who left the note. And it definitely wasn't one of her brothers.

The boys began scarfing down their food while introducing themselves to Maris, and she did the same.

Felicia felt her thoughts start to drift. Sleep was about to fully take over when the bells chimed again. She shot upright, surprised at how much time had passed. Maris's cup was empty, and all of the trays were nothing but trash.

"Time for class! We ready?" Maris asked.

"Sure am!" Farkle said.

"I just want the day over with so I can go to jousting practice," Fergus added. "We had a great time on the field yesterday." Already making friends with the jousters before making the team was such a Fergus move.

Felicia said nothing as she stood. They joined the flow of students exiting the hall and headed toward their first class: Basics of Magic. Felicia excelled at magic, and she hoped her fatigue wouldn't get in the way.

Maybe I'll perk up once I see the syllabus, she thought.

The classroom took her breath away. Though the Academy's gray stone walls and tiled floors remained, the room was packed with shelves and cupboards overflowing with magical curiosities. Bottles of shimmering liquids, jars of plants and preserved creatures, shadow boxes of skeletons, and gadgets that spun, sparked, oozed, and hissed. It was everything a magic user could dream of. It reminded her of Merlin's classroom in the castle.

A large dueling stage ran down the center of the room, with long desks on either side. At the front stood the professor's desk and a massive chalkboard. The professor herself faced away from the students, her long black hair blending seamlessly into a cloak of black swan feathers.

Felicia chose a seat at the front. Maris sat to her right, followed by Fergus and then Farkle.

Once everyone was seated, the professor raised a hand without turning around and snapped her fingers. The door slammed shut, silencing the room as the bells rang to signal the start of class.

The professor turned, revealing a striking woman with sharp features and dark eyes. Black-and-gold makeup framed her gaze, and delicate black feathers adorned the ends of her lashes. Her feathered cloak blended into an ensemble of black, deep purple, and gold.

She smiled.

"Hello, students," she said in a smooth, dark voice. "I am Professor Fowlfeather. In this class, we will learn the basics of magic."

She raised both hands. Two stacks of papers levitated at her sides. With a gentle push, they scattered neatly across the room, one packet landing in front of each student. The syllabus ran down exactly how the class would run for the rest of the semester.

"Magic," she continued, "is a powerful force that demands respect. Everyone has the innate ability to tap into the magical forces around us—both good..." She paused. "...and not so good."

It took Felicia a moment to realize exactly who she was looking at.

Odile. The Black Swan.

Felicia had no idea she'd become a teacher, let alone a professor of magic. She assumed Odile had chosen to use her power for good, unlike her father, Rothbart. Many villains had changed after Lord Farquaad's defeat, and even more so after Charming's fall.

Professor Fowlfeather paced the front of the room. "Many of you may have taken magic classes in the past, so this may feel familiar. Still, it never hurts to reinforce your foundation. The spells, potions, and incantations taught here form the basis of all magic. Master these, and your abilities can grow as far as you wish."

"All magic requires patience, focus, and determination. Respect it, and it will respect you in return. If I see anyone misusing their abilities, inside or outside my classroom, you'll answer to the principal... and to me." She smiled thinly. "And while the principal's methods are somewhat mediocre, you may recall that I am rather gifted in transformation magic."

She twirled her fingers, sending a swirl of sparkles and white feathers into the air. Some students chuckled; others stiffened. Felicia was completely enamored. This was already her favorite class.

"Now," Fowlfeather said, "open your books to page five. Today, we'll be brewing a simple healing potion."

With a wave of her arm, the chalkboard filled with step-by-step instructions and swirling doodles. Ingredients appeared on the desks.

"You'll work with your table partners. Chop-chop!"

The students shifted in their seats and began preparing the potion.

"Healing potions vary widely," she continued, "but today's version is your baseline for all other healing potions. It treats minor cuts, burns, bruises, nausea, vertigo, and small aches. It's safe to drink in most cases, but it won't save a life."

Felicia worked easily, as she had made many of these for Fergus in the past, though she followed the book for Maris, Fergus, and Farkle's sake. Fergus flirted badly with Maris, who either didn't notice or didn't care, while Farkle second-guessed every ingredient and dropped more than one on the floor.

Still, their potion succeeded. Professor Fowlfeather approved it with a nod.

"Excellent work, my flock," she said to the class. "Bottle what remains and review today's potion as well as the syllabus. Next class, we'll examine each ingredient in depth."

The bells rang.

Felicia had been so absorbed she'd almost forgotten her fear and her exhaustion. With teachers as powerful as Odile, what was there to worry about? No one would dare harm the daughter of Princess Fiona and Shrek.

As they exited the classroom, a voice called out, "Excuse me! Ogre girl! Excuse me!"

Felicia turned. A blonde girl hurried toward her—the same one who'd stared at her at the cheerleading booth. Felicia froze, her stomach dropping. The girl's expression was unreadable.

Before Felicia could react, the girl stopped right in front of her.

"You're—you're—it's—" Felicia stammered.

"Ugh! I've been trying to talk to you, for like, ever!" the girl said.

She stuck out her hand. "Hi! I'm Vanity, but you can call me T."