Mako was sitting in the staff room, marking the History exam papers of the class that was to be graduating this year.
With her right hand, she was holding the pen with which she was ticking the correct answers and crossing out the wrong ones, or grading the essay question answers out of 10. With her left, she was drawing a chalk pentagram onto a special mat (as she couldn't draw on the staff table anymore. She'd gotten in trouble for that in the past). She wasn't right-handed, in fact, she was ambidextrous, yet the pentagram had to be drawn with the left hand.

When the pentagram as done, she placed her thermos of now cold coffee (Irish coffee, though she kept that a secret) in the middle and muttered an incantation. A few seconds later, the coffee was piping hot. She always had to be careful using pentagrams indoors, as you couldn't see the sun, and the pentagram had to point East, towards the rising sun. if it pointed West, it became a symbol of Satanism instead of Witchcraft and cast the spell, useful to Demons living in the Inferno, of making hot drinks cold, and more than once Mako had misjudged which direction was East and accidentally created iced coffee. Mako hated iced coffee.

Looking over at the answers again, she felt a slight pang in her chest, that she felt every year teaching here.
You grew attached to students and it was always sad to see more go. It was a feeling you never truly got used to. She thought back to her own time at school too, as a short haired troublemaker who at that point knew she was a witch but didn't know the connotations until her own History class. Her mother had told her to just pretend to be a mage. She grew to resent it, but her mother always kept her in check, for if she snapped, she'd just be proving everybody right about witches. That's why she was here, after all. To change things with kindness and teaching instead. It was scandalous at first for this school to have a witch teaching students but Mako worked very hard to prove herself before too much damage to the school's reputation was done.

With the marking done, Mako stretched, and headed out the staffroom, passing by all the stragglers of this term.
It wasn't long now before the new school year started and a new batch of first years arrived. She wondered what they'd be like. Would they be hard to teach? Will their parents have warned them about learning from a witch? Would they be fine with it? Would they be quick learners or thick as mud? Only time would tell. They couldn't be much worse than the first years from fourteen years ago, though. That class was the worst. The. Worst. She chuckled as she remembered the shenanigans. That class would always be her favourite.