The summer holiday had passed by in a blur. Mina's mum spent most of the time fussing over her, as the idea of sending her eleven-year-old daughter to a strange boarding school sunk in. Every time that Mina tried to tell them that she would be learning magic,
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Mina read the parchment as Heidi shrugged on her coat. The scrawl of ink from a modern biro stood out against the rough parchment. It brought back bad memories. The message was simple. “I think my son is in trouble. Can you check on him?” Signed, Mrs A. Solomon was
Someone had swapped the labels on the potion bottles, and of course it was Mina’s job to sort it out. It was lucky Mr Bergamot had recognised that ‘Abington’s Peaceful Slumber’ shouldn’t have been a sparkling, fiery red before Mrs Holloway had put it in her shopping