(From inside the playset)
Swinemole’s is the most prestigious magical school in the southern hemisphere. It’s also the only magical school in the southern hemisphere. The buildings may look like a concrete 1970s tragedy, and the administration may desperately cling to European traditions in order to create some façade of respectability, but the real treasure of Swinemole’s is its burnt out, bitter staff, and its appalling and apathetic students.
Firstly, the staff can’t be bothered to teach. Why would they when you have petty staffroom politics to keep you busy? Fighting over temporary positions, stationary and classroom furniture is what keeps the wheel of magical academia turning. Staff, like students, will be a member of one of the four houses (Phlegm, Blood, Gall, Bile) and assigned to a faculty (constantly changing, possibly meaningless). There’s also a lot of pointless paperwork and potentially fatal workplace hazards for the unwary educator at Swinemole’s, so keep sharp and trust no one.
Secondly, the students are indulged, indolent and incompetent. Why try when you have connections? Bad grades can always be fixed by mummy wielding a killing curse in the front office. So students wisely use their time to create the social hierarchies that will hopefully serve them for a lifetime. Fatness curses, love potions and endangered animal sacrifices are the bread and butter of magical teens in a magical school; just make sure you get to the end of the school year in one piece.
So as you wantonly grasp for power, prestige and/or potions, keep in mind the proud and mostly legal traditions of Swinemole’s, and disregard the school’s insipid motto “si post fata venit gloria non propero" (or if you prefer English) “If glory comes after death, I can wait”.