Margaret Peregrine is a high school sophomore. Most of the time, she's either at school, at the school robotics club, at the school chess club, or doing schoolwork. Today, she's cleaning out her late great-grandmother's attic.
"Oh, yeah, good point. We wouldn't want to reveal magic to the world and and then get in trouble for teaching without a license. Or were you thinking of something else?"
"Liberal private schooling regulations are one thing but there's probably anywhere with laws on witchcraft still on the books, or inconvenient zoning, or something."
"Oh, yeah. I think witchcraft laws are mostly a European thing, but I'll look up that and also the rules on running a business out of your house."
One of the many nice things about Boston: it has a lot of little alleys suitable for teleporting out of. They can get their medallion batch out of the way real quick. "Oh, that reminds me--starting a business turned out to be kind of complicated because of all the secrecy. Do you want me to just PayPal you your share of the medallion money?"
"Here, I've got checks somewhere, let me do it before I forget again . . ." She rummages for a moment, finds the checks in the desk drawer under the rune dictionary and her learner's permit, and writes Bella a check for her half of the money. It's a decent chunk of change, at least if you're not someone who extorts billionaires as a hobby.
"Okay, so, real estate. Here's the sort of thing I've found so far."
In addition to the first handful of postings, she's found several more, including one with a weirdly large fraction of its square footage taken up by a movie theater, one with a tall fence all the way around the property, one with an inconvenient floor plan but an outside that looks way more like Hogwarts than a house in Wyoming has a right to (labeled with a Post-It note saying "bad house, good turret"), and two that have been on the market oddly long for their very inviting price to square footage ratio. One of those has hints between the lines that there's a legal dispute going on; the other is attached to a newspaper article claiming it's haunted.
"I kind of like the theater one, we're not using it for a house, it's a school, does it have lecture amounts of seating? The castley one is aesthetic but we can, like, make renovations if we care that much. I guess renovations would also get us a lecture hall. Is haunting seriously the only thing wrong with that one? I guess it could really be haunted. Kinda want to go check it out but I haven't frozen eggs yet."
"I like the theater one too, we'd want to replace the furniture but then it would make a great lecture hall. And yeah, I figure the haunted one is either loud pipes and carbon monoxide and we can get it at a bargain even after repairs, orrrr it's weird critter stuff and we're the last people who should go there, it's very annoying."
"I haven't gotten around to trying yet. But it's weird that they think it's their business. What nefarious thing do they imagine you could be up to?"
"Oh, they don't think I'm nefarious, they just, like, ask me if I have a health problem of some kind, wouldn't this interfere with school, can't I wait till I'm twenty, where are my parents."
"Gosh that's annoying. What is your school situation, actually? Did you ever officially drop out or get a GED or anything?"
"I have my dad's permission but have not bothered with the administration. I should probably get a GED at some point but haven't bothered yet."
"Yeah. Man, there are just so many ways neither society is set up to make sense of what we're doing."
"Yeah. I kind of hope we can at least tell the rest of the critters our species by then, but maybe that's optimistic. Did we ever decide whether we're telling our students or not?"
"I think we should play that really close to the chest till our eggs are in more baskets."
"Yeah, we can't un-tell people or really stop them from telling anyone else." Theoretically magic could be able to prevent people from doing things, but that's not what she wants to spend research time on when there are so many other avenues of research that aren't awful at all.