Warnings: Much bad language, slash, random insanity. Expect not normality, but please leave a review.

P.S.Y.C.H.O.S.

THE Primary School of Young (Criminal, Homeless and Offending) Sorcerers

DEAR SCHOOL,

This is your headmaster writing. Please, feel free to stop everything you are currently doing and pay attention to my words. THAT MEANS YOU. Yes, I can see you. I'm a fucking sorcerer. What are you, stupid?

Now, as you can see – Finn, my office, tonight, your sister will hear of this – this piece of paper is magical. It contains all the school rules you will ever need, and it will be updated regularly. Or whenever I feel in need of a new rule. Whichever comes later.

So, my dear, little children – Oz, please stop torturing that poor boy, I'm not entirely sure he was sane to begin with – you are here because you are either (or all of the following) criminal – Stiner, I can see you – homeless, or offending. Offending may mean that your parents just don't like you. I can empathise. I don't like any of you either.

However, because of these problems, it seems you find yourself in this school with nowhere else to go. Thankfully, I'm now allowed to assign corporal punishment – or, in the case of any masochists out there, not. Whatever kind of person you are, here are the rules you must abide by or face the consequences.

Oz, please stop harming the new students. Even if you are going to heal them later, it's not a very nice thing to do. Yes, I know you don't care about being nice. Nor do you care about the fact that I'm going to take away your prefect badge. You may, however, care that I am about to confiscate your collection of explosives I'm sure I'm not meant to know about.

Yes? Thank you, my dear child.

No blowing things up. Unless a teacher tells you to. Or unless you're sure you won't be caught, in which case I can't punish you. But be aware, I'm a seer. Yes, Hidden, I can even see you.

No killing inside the school property. I believe Rhianna Oz set up a teleportation device last year that takes you off school property for a very reasonable fee, and in which case, you cease to be my concern.

Bullying is, of course, forbidden. If any child comes to me with a complaint of having been bullied, I will be forced to look into the matter. Congratulations on last year, Stiner, for managing to intimidate everyone into silence. You made my job much more peaceful.

Canteen food is not, whatever Oz may tell you, poisonous. Unless Hidden's had his hand in it, in which case it may well be. Practice your detection spells. They'll probably come in use. And yes, Hidden, I do know who tried to poison my hot chocolate last year. You are in deep shit. Never touch my chocolate.

Boys and girls are in separate dormitories for a reason. I have enough of you brats as it is, I don't want any of you pregnant. Boys on boys, girls on girls, feel free. In fact, I'd like say how impressed I am with Hill and Felding's posters from last year – the positions you girls got into are quite remarkable. I wasn't even certain they were anatomically possible. I have been proven wrong once again.

You must attend lessons. This is compulsory. Even if you are ill. Go and see a healer. Oz, I believe, takes IOUs, while Gill takes money but tends to cause less deliberate pain. Matron, is, of course available, but she tends to be drunk. Constantly. I believe it's something to do with a bad breakup, but I don't spread rumours. It was the Divinations teacher, if anyone's interested.

Your belongings are your own, and thus, your responsibility. If a kleptomaniac steals them, there is a very good black market ring that I know nothing about, run by one Mr. Darkmoon, who, despite his name, is quite reliable.

You are all sorcerers. Even if you're female. This saves me excessive amounts of paperwork, so don't bother complaining.

That is all for the moment. I may update whenever you aren't looking. In which case, it's your problem when you break the rule, because I will have no mercy.

THE HEADMASTER

(Bonus points to anyone who works out my name by the end of the year. Teachers, don't you dare. That means you, Darkmoon.)