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.
And if she goes over and peels the tape back and looks in there?
She drops a pencil in it. If nothing unexpected happens, she picks up the box and dumps the pencil out.
Well, that was rather nauseating. And also annoying. And hopefully due to a weakness in her incantation rather than a fundamental limit of space-warped volumes. She draws a line down the inside of the box from the top of one side face to the bottom, and goes back to French vocabulary. Dungeons and Dragons night rolls around before she has it done.
The campaign ends with a tremendous party-splitting showdown; Xavier squirrels away Brenda, Cole, and Joseph in one room and Sanjay, Alec, and Margaret stay behind, with Xavier darting between rooms to adjudicate things and move enemies and try to reply before the other half has finished arguing about their next moves. He's pretty good at it. Finally they converge and defeat the bad guys.
It's extremely theatrical and terribly exciting and the long time they get to argue about their moves lets them be more tactically sophisticated than they can usually get. Margaret is immensely pleased and says so.
"Sure, I'll be a wizard! Hey Cole, tell me more about this weird prestige class!"
"Nifty! How about you, Brenda, got a concept yet or still thinking?"
"Yeah, I'm going to need to figure out specializations too." She packs up her bag and gets ready to set off.
There's only one evening between game night and trivia night, but that's long enough to do a bit of magic research. She has a taped-shut box with a marker line on one inside face and a new incantation, translated from "Make the inside of this box twice as large in the dimension I marked along with ink, so that the inside of the box still approximates a rectangular prism but no longer approximates a cube and the line is twice as long, leaving the other dimensions and the outside unaffected."
(That incantation needed a lot of pronunciation practice, but by the time she first uses it for real she can recite it like it's her address. Her French teacher commented last week on how much her accent has improved from last year's mediocre baseline.)
Excellent! Obviously that isn't going to work for anything other than a pre-sharpied-on cubical box, but the point is to build up a sense of exactly what she needs to specify in exactly what terms. Next step is putting things in there: can she fill this box with a quantity of non-enchanted socks, pencils, paperback books, and other random bedroom items it could not have previously encompassed?
Aaaand if she dumps it all out and stands well back and pitches a glowing pebble at it? (And goes and gets it when she misses, and pitches it again?)
Except for how it's still glowing with magical heatless light, yeah?
Hmm, where to go from here. Honestly she could probably get some nice wooden boxes and sell what she has, but there are a few directions worth expanding in. She writes up some notes:
* Directions other than depth (too trippy?)
* Expanding a magically durable box: either the safer order or distinctly not that
* Bags
> various directions
> transparent plastic bag, just to see what it looks like???
* Nesting
* Ask authorities about population density
She spends the rest of the night reading what she can of a French geometry textbook she found online.
Or it does until she disenchants it, anyway. She's taken to keeping the number of magic objects in her room to a minimum consisting mainly of Endurance Test Rock.
The next night is trivia night, so the ideas she adds to her notes while her classmates aren't looking have to wait.