A Christmassy Cackles
Authors Note: Here is a little festive one-shot for Christmas! Will Constance eventually discover the meaning of Christmas, will any surface escape the festive decorating frenzy of Davina Bat? Read on to find out..
Warning: faint hints of light femslash involved later on.
Reviews are always welcomed!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to any of Jill Murphy's wonderful characters, nor do I own the rights to the Christmas poem used that was written by Norman W. Brooks
Enjoy...
"Hmmph!"
"What is it Davina?"
Amelia questioned without looking up from her "Cheese Connoisseur's Monthly- Christmas Special" that she was reading eagerly. She knew by now to take any outbursts from her temperamental chanting teacher with a large pinch of salt. Anything to maintain some sort of peace in the turbulent atmosphere of the frequently rowing staffroom.
Imogen Drill arched an eyebrow at her colleague, swinging her toned legs over the arm of the dusty armchair that she was sat in, in order to face the aggravated woman.
"Well?" she enquired of the witch that had just stormed into the room.
Davina cleared her throat dramatically, conducting away to an invisible choir with her baton as she was prone to doing at time of stress, her frizzy hair trembling with the effort of not shrieking in frustration at her subdued contemporaries.
"It is the week before Christmas, Imogen, and I have never seen a place so DEVOID of festive cheer!" she trilled in exasperation, "Nobody is entering into the festivities at all- just a sea of unhappy faces that confront me everywhere I go!"
She collapsed into the nearest chair, breathing heavily.
She twitched her casting fingers and a large bowl of comforting fruit salad appeared in front of her. Her first port of call in an emotional crisis. Another flick of her wrist to conjure a jug of cream resulted in the glass bowl exploding, sending shards of glass flying and an upset yowl of disappointment from Miss Bat. Davina's magic was a little prone to malfunction in times of stress.
Amelia lowered her magazine, brushing glass out of her wispy grey hair, scooping the pulped fruit off the colour supplement of a rather tasty looking blue veined stilton in irritation- trust Davina!
"And what do you suggest should be done about it, Davina?" she asked, trying to keep the note of annoyance out of her voice. The last thing she needed was for Davina to incarcerate herself in the stationary cupboard until New Year.
Davina smiled happily. It was uncommon that she was asked for her opinion, even rarer that it was taken seriously- besides, Imogen and Constance normally shouted her down. The dark environment of the cupboard was always strongly appealing whenever one of their frequent spats broke out.
"Well, Headmistress, I would like to be able to decorate the school, and hold a carol concert, and a big Christmas party, and buy lots of presents for each other, put up a HUGE Christmas tree in the Great Hall"..
She tailed off, her eyes becoming glassy as her Christmassy fantasies overwhelmed her in her excitement.
Amelia considered the idea. Allowing Davina to exercise her natural "creativity" was never normally the best course of action if an expensive repairs bill was to be avoided, but allowing her to have freedom over the festive arrangements would certainly alleviate the boredom that set in before the end of term on Christmas Eve. Besides, she knew the girls would enter into the spirit of Christmas, and they had earned a little reward following the pleasing end of term assessment results.
"Very well Davina," she said, her blue eyes twinkling at the thought of what was to come, "you have my full authority to do whatever you like to bring Christmas to Cackles!"
Davina let out a high-pitched squeal of exhilaration, jumping up and down, clapping her lace-gloved hands in glee. This Christmas was going to be fantastic!
She looked over at Imogen who was now smiling broadly at her antics.
"As a non-witch, Imogen, could I ask for some advice on traditions and customs of Christmas?" she enquired tentatively, "I want to ensure that this Christmas lives up to expectations?"
Imogen looked back at Davina, a few wicked ideas forming rapidly in her mind.
"Of course, Davina, I'd love to help!" she smiled back.
Xxx
Constance Hardbroom was striding briskly along the corridor to the staffroom. It had not been a good morning. The second years had not had a five minute concentration-span between them, resulting in Mildred Hubble blowing up her third cauldron of the term. There would have to be a crackdown on discipline, she resolved, the girls were getting sloppy and uncontrollable in the run up to the end of term! They were here to work after all!
She stopped in surprise to bat an orange balloon that bore the school crest out of her face that had zoomed magically around the corner as she had approached.
"Fenella and Griselda up to their old tricks again!" she hissed, sending a bolt of energy towards the offending item, causing it to burst with a loud bang.
She pushed open the heavy oak door to the staff room.
The sight that confronted her caused her to clutch in shock at the doorframe, briefly questioning her own sanity.
Loud music was blaring from all corners of the room, Amelia was sitting perched precariously on top of her desk, singing along lustily to Witch FM's Christmas Chart Show, attempting the falsetto harmonies of the chorus in vain, a large, fluffy red and white Santa hat perched at a jaunty angle upon her head whilst Davina and Imogen were jiving in the middle of the room to Amelia Honeydew and the Spell Girls irritatingly catchy new Christmas song. She couldn't see one surface in the room that wasn't festooned in flashing, luminous fairy lights. Enchanted, glittery snow fell in huge drifts from the ceiling, coupled with more of the glowing balloons; inflatable reindeer's were propped in the windows and occupied the remaining chairs. Trays of delectable Christmas treats floated in the air, bearing little morsels of Christmas cake, mince pies and Yule Log.
She must be having some sort of garish, commercialised nightmare!
She shook her casting fingers and pointed them at the rowdy wireless that was blasting the wall of offensive noise, rendering it silent by hurling an exasperated spell at it- causing it to detonate with a loud blast.
For a moment Amelia carried on singing with gusto as if nothing had happened. Then the three guilty women looked up in unison at the sight of the witch who was now standing with her arms folded across her bony chest in the doorway, icy wrath emanating from her slender form. The festive atmosphere drained away in a blink of an eye.
"Please forgive me for thinking that I had accidently stumbled into a parallel universe, Headmistress," Constance's silky tones announced sarcastically, "but I was acting under the mistaken impression that I was experiencing a rather graphic Yuletide hallucination! Could somebody please kindly inform me as to what on earth is going on?"
Amelia looked sheepishly back at her furious deputy.
"Well, Constance, Davina did make a very valid point to me earlier that none of the girls or staff had entered much into the festive mood-"
She was cut off abruptly by an outraged Constance.
"The girls are here to learn, Headmistress, not to engage in frippery, horseplay and practical jokes!"She spat in rage, "And it is our duty as members of staff to set an example! The second years in particular have been acting in an intolerable manner this morning and I must insist upon-"
Davina Bat had risen to her feet. She planted her hands firmly upon her narrow hips and tried to summon the confidence to confront the terrifying sight that was an angry Miss Hardbroom in full flow.
"Now look here Constance Hardbroom!" she snarled in quite an uncharacteristic manner, "The girls have worked incredibly hard this term and fully deserve to enjoy the festivities! The message of Christmas is a wonderful, heart-warming gift to all, at anytime of year!"
She climbed onto the desk, getting completely carried away with her speech, placing a hand over her heart and reciting the first Christmas poem that came to mind.
"Christmas is forever, not for just one day,
for loving, sharing, giving, are not to put away
like bells and lights and tinsel, in some box upon a shelf. The good you do for others is good you do yourself."
Constance rolled her eyes at the sight of the over-dramatic display in front of her.
"Very well Headmistress, if you wish to continue to promote this type of blatant hooliganism and disregard for regulations, then you have my blessing to do so. Just don't expect me to join in!"
And with that, she flounced off, slamming the door behind her with all the strength she could muster.
"So she took it well then!" remarked Imogen drily, masking her flicker of concern for the older woman that had been provoked by her reaction.
Amelia sighed, waving her arms over the demolished wireless, restoring it to near working order. It hissed and crackled before settling back onto Witch FM.
"I think that's the best we're going to get"... she mused.
Imogen wasn't completely sure if she was talking about Constance's reaction or the now smoking radio.
xxx
Constance bit her lip as she strode away from the staffroom, dematerialising rapidly to reappear in the privacy of her own room before anybody could see the tears that were starting to build in her hazel eyes.
Why did she have to be so uptight? Why couldn't she learn to come down off that lofty pedestal for once in her life and join in?
She buried her head miserably into the purple silk of her pillow, allowing the cool material to soothe her burning face.
"For heavens sake, pull yourself together woman!" she whispered angrily to herself.
She couldn't help it though. Christmas was the worst time of the year for her, to be incessantly reminded of the wonderful family occasions that everyone else would be experiencing, except her. She was an orphan, and Christmas bought that fact home to her more deeply every year.
No loved one to spend Christmas with either- she'd always believed in prioritising work over frivolous affairs of the heart- much better to invest her time in something that would only bring benefit to her, she thought, rather than risking heartbreak and the crushing pain that usually came with it.
She rolled onto her back, staring at the dark ceiling that was spotted with mildew and damp.
Alone again. She never sought company normally, so what was it that Christmas bought out in her that demanded attention and affection?
She sighed restlessly. Life was never simple.
She stood up, preparing herself mentally for her next gruelling class of the day- double potions with the disruptive thirds years.
xxx
Davina stood back and viewed her latest decorative triumph. A life-sized, cuddly Father Christmas figurine sat in the armchair, pre-programmed with various festive utterances, chuckling away merrily at random time intervals.
"Perfect!" She trilled.
"Ho-Ho-Ho!" came the jovial reply.
"Be a good boy Santa!" she chirped, leaving the room in order to locate some students to carry out her festive plans.
Xxx
Imogen Drill was balancing precariously on the top step of a rickety stepladder, attaching pieces of mistletoe to the old oak beams.
Nothing like maintaining tradition, even if Frank Blossom was the only male member of staff!
She stopped and stared up at her handiwork- not quite central, but who would notice anyway?
She suddenly felt overwhelmingly dizzy as the blood drained from her head. Terrified of falling, she grabbed helplessly at the eye-popping, bright fuchsia paper-chains that Davina had conjured earlier. The frail paper tore under the strain of her added weight and she plummeted to the floor. She swore and braced herself for the impact that never came.
Instead she found herself lying on a cushion of air, slowly lowering in a graceful descent to the floor. She blinked in surprise, looking up at her quick thinking saviour.
"Are you quite alright, Miss Drill?" enquired Constance Hardbroom in a much more gentle tone of voice than she would have normally used.
Imogen nodded, regaining what was left of her composure.
"Here"... Constance extended a slim, porcelain-like hand towards her.
Imogen took hold of the hand, wincing slightly at the freezing temperature of the skin, but noting in relative surprise the strength behind the frail arm that pulled her to her feet easily. A slight cough from Constance brought her to her senses, blushing slightly as she realised that she had been holding onto the witch's slender hand far longer than strictly necessary.
"Thank you, Constance" she smiled back over her shoulder at the older witch as she walked away.
Constance stared in a puzzled manner after the retreating figure of Imogen Drill- the touch of the young woman's soft but firm, tanned skin had sent a little thrill through her when their hands had brushed against each other, little sparks of electricity had jolted along her nervous system.
"Impossible!" she reasoned to herself, "it's just your loneliness making you demand company and affection"
She sighed, taking a moment to place her emotions back under lock and key. Back in control again.
Xxx
Davina had excelled herself. She turned to her "Christmas task-force" whom she had gathered in the Great Hall for a meeting.
Fenella, Griselda, Mildred, Maud, Enid, Jadu and Ruby all stood in confusion. What exactly had Miss Bat asked them to come to the Hall for?
"Now then girls- is everybody present?" she quavered, barely able to contain her mounting excitement over what she was about to tell them.
"Yes Miss Bat" chorused the assembled girls.
She clapped her hands excitedly. "Good! Now, come closer, I have something very important to tell you!"
The girls shuffled closer, surrounding her in an intrigued huddle as she told them her news.
"Wow!"
"Extreme!"
"Amazing!"
They looked at Miss Bat in utter delight- Christmas was coming to Cackles, and they had been excused lessons for the rest of the day to help her set up for the festivities!
Davina conjured a black clipboard from thin air, frantically trying to decipher her scrawled writing that had become even more impossible to read due to her manic state of Christmas anticipation.
"Now, Mildred and Maud, please go and try to arrange a Christmas feast with Mrs Tapioca, Ruby and Jadu, you can help Mr Blossom to organise a gorgeous Christmas tree and lots of lovely, lovely plants-poinsettias I think, they taste divine with their red leaves! Enid, Fenella and Griselda, you will be helping me to decorate the castle as well as writing some beautiful festive chants and carols for our end of term concert! Remember to warm up your little voices- MEOWWWW!"
She took an almighty gasp of air after reeling off the long monologue at breakneck speed in one breath, nearly dropping her conductor's baton in her frenzy.
The girls looked at each other, trying to understand the blurred garble of words and noise that was being projected at them, and understanding about one word in ten.
"Hurry girls, hurry!" Miss Bat's small form was already skipping out of the door, trailing tinsel and glitter behind her in a sparkly haze.
They shrugged their shoulders and smiled broadly at each other. This was going to be good!
"All together girlies!" said Gris.
The young witches stood in a close circle, raising their hands to shoulder height and chanting in unison.
"Alacazam, Alacazoo!" and with a bright flash of light, all seven girls were wearing matching Santa hats.
They stood and proudly surveyed their work. There was something missing though.
"What was your fashion spell, Enid?" Millie whispered in her friend's ear.
"Ummm, Alverix Orcus, Tranfrogamorphus, Haulata, Christmas, Couturus, Fabricatas, Yultidus, Instantatus, Magicus!"
Jets of light shot from Enid's fingertips, instantly changing the plain navy gymslips that were the traditional school uniform into short, red and green elf dresses. The seams trimmed with white fur, the initial of the wearer embroidered in gold thread upon the front and a little black belt with a gold buckle hung around the waist.
"Extreme!" gasped Ruby, attempting a little tap-dance to demonstrate the jingling bells that were attached to her pointed shoes.
"Come on, let's get to work!" Maud dragged Mildred off towards the kitchens to find the cheery Italian cook.
"Let's brighten up this drab old castle!" said Fenella, flexing her casting fingers and throwing a grin at her blonde-haired friend.
xxx
Constance Hardbroom sat in front of her third year potions class, surveying the two empty spaces that fell directly underneath her steely gaze.
"Where are Fenella Feverfew and Griselda Blackwood?" she enquired.
Eliza Webb, one of the braver members of the class raised a shaky hand, "Please Miss Hardbroom, Miss Bat has excused them from all lessons today"... She trailed off as she saw the look of anger forming on her teacher's face, her thin brows knitting together in a frown.
"Has she"... Constance's voice was trembling with suppressed white-hot rage. "Has she indeed"...
She looked up at her mystified class.
"Kindly continue with your potions or it will be detention for the lot of you!" she snapped impatiently. "You will remain in your seats whilst I consult with Miss Cackle!"
She folded her arms and disappeared noiselessly.
A wave of chatter about Miss Hardbroom's reaction broke out across the room.
"Quiet!" her ringing tones echoed through the room, even though she had already vanished.
Silence fell.
xxx
Whether it was by fate or by chance, Constance had tried to appear in the staffroom to confront Amelia over her worrying decision to allow Davina to take the girls away from their studies. What happened next caused her to let out an ear-splitting scream of frustration and surprise- her usual dignified manner deserting her as she fought to escape the clutches of the stranger that she found sitting her favoured carved, wooden chair.
She had found herself sitting on the knee of the Santa figurine.
"Ho-Ho-Ho, have you been a good little girl this year?" he chortled merrily as she viciously elbowed her would-be attacker in his bearded face, sending a volley of magical sparks over her narrow shoulder before falling onto the thin cotton rug beneath her. Sprawled in an untidy heap on the floor, she looked up to see Amelia suppressing an amused smile at the sight of her deputy abandoning her typical elegance, her sleek bun unravelling, casting her dark curls over her face in unruly waves, her hazel eyes flashing with anger.
She pulled herself to her feet and furiously vanished the chuckling Father Christmas in a puff of red and white smoke.
"Something troubling you, Constance?" enquired Amelia gently.
Constance pulled herself up to her full height, flicking her casting fingers impatiently at her ruined hair, forcing it to coil back into its tight, restraining bun.
"As a matter of fact there is, Headmistress!" she said in a low, controlled tone, "Why on earth has Davina Bat been allowed to take students out my class, pupils who are about to embark upon the first year of study for their Witch's Higher Certificate no less, without asking for my express permission!"
Amelia shuffled awkwardly in her comfortable chair, "I presume that you are referring to Fenella Feverfew and Griselda Blackwood?"
"Indeed"
Amelia sighed. There was no easy way to tell Constance this. She met the direct gaze of her deputy.
"I allowed Davina to excuse the girls, as well as a few of the second years to help organise the Christmas celebrations" she attempted to explain.
"Fenella and Griselda! In charge!"
Constance's voice was rising in pitch at a frightening rate in her disbelief at her superior's stupidity. Positively apoplectic with rage she let out a high-pitched laugh.
"Leaving those two in a position of authority is as dangerous as leaving Count Dracula in charge of a blood bank!"
"Now then Constance" Amelia tried unsuccessfully to reassure the fuming potions teacher, "They are giving up their time-"
"My lesson time!"
"—their time, to assist in the organisation of the festivities. To improve the overall well-being and harmony of the school!"
She fixed Constance with a steady look.
"And I have given my authority on this matter."
Constance nodded slowly. "I see" she whispered quietly, almost defeatedly. And with that she disappeared, resolving not to have anything to do with the students or staff until the wretched Christmas festivities had passed.
xxx
"Did you hear about HB?"said Jadu as she joined the others for lunch in the packed Great Hall "Apparently she stormed out of the third year's potion class and never came back!"
The gossip surrounding Miss Hardbroom's disappearance had been circling the school since morning break.
"I wonder what that was about?" pondered Maud, tilting her head slightly to one side as she was in the habit of doing when deep in thought, "HB would never do something like that normally!"
"Actually," whispered Ruby, leaning across the trestle table, "I heard from Eliza that she told HB that Miss Bat had excused Fenny and Gris from her class to help with the Christmas events and she went ballistic and went to argue it out with Cackle!"
"But its Christmas!" said Mildred, "Why would HB not want us to celebrate!"
Enid pulled a face at her friend. Sometimes Mildred was just too kind for her own good.
"Come on Millie, its HB we're talking about here! She's acting like a right Scrooge because she can't set us work or torment us for another three weeks!"
"Yes, but" Mildred bit her lip. She didn't like thinking badly of others and she was sure that HB would have her own private reasons for not wanting to celebrate.
"Never mind HB, Millie, she's just a bitter old spinster with nothing better to do than victimise others! I'm sure she'll be back soon!" retorted Enid.
"Come on, we've still got half the school to decorate!" her friends dragged her away from the crowded room.
xxx
The Morning of Christmas Eve:
Imogen Drill had gone up to her bedroom to retrieve her thick winter fleece. It had started to snow outside, large white flakes falling lazily from the dark grey sky, drifting to the ground, and she was feeling the cold in the draughty castle that had a distinct lack of glass in the windows.
Panting slightly, as she had jogged up to her room straight from her morning run, she stopped to put her hands on her sides, trying to alleviate the pain from the stitch that was throbbing angrily in her side.
She had stopped outside the reclusive Constance's room, unable to trust what her ears were telling her.
A faint sobbing was escaping from nearby.
Imogen tiptoed towards the door and gently pushed it open.
Constance was lying face down on her bed, her narrow shoulders shaking with suppressed grief. Imogen came and sat on the bed beside her and gently reached out and touched Constance's back, moving her hand in small, comforting circles.
"Hey, hey, what's the matter?" she soothed quietly, struck by how vulnerable the usually unreachable deputy head looked as she lay there, crying into her purple satin pillow.
Constance flinched slightly at her touch, ashamed that somebody had seen her without her usual defences in place. She turned over to stare at Imogen, her red-rimmed eyes betraying her as she tried to compose herself.
"Nothing"... she said quietly, "nothing at all, Miss Drill"..
Imogen said nothing, but raised a disbelieving eyebrow, questioning Constance's response.
"Looks like it"... she whispered.
Constance sat bolt upright.
"I assure you, I am perfectly fine!" she snapped, brushing tears away from her face angrily. "Just because one doesn't wish to have Christmas forced down ones throat, it suddenly seems that one is incapable of being respected at all!"
Imogen looked back at her, still not believing what she was being told.
"Why don't you want to join in?" she enquired softly, feeling a jolt of pity for the woman who lay in front of her. Still beautiful, even when salty tears clung onto those long, dark eyelashes, tracing little rivers down her alabaster skin, her dark lips trembling with emotion creating a striking contrast with her creamy skin and hazel eyes. She held her breath as she boldly reached forward and wiped the tears off the face of the woman in front of her, expecting to be rebuffed immediately.
Constance closed her hand around the other woman's wrist, not pushing her away, but holding it there, its natural warmth blazing against her frozen skin. She raised her eyes to look at Imogen, imploring her to understand.
"It's not that I don't want to join in," she breathed hoarsely, tears glistening in her eyes "I- I just don't know how to".
Imogen said nothing, but gently caressed the other woman's cheek.
"Christmas is always very hard for me" she faltered, looking back at her own reflection that was present in Imogen's green eyes, "My parents were killed on Christmas Day, leaving me orphaned and alone, which I have been for most of my life, never experiencing any happy family Christmases, never having anyone to share the festive season with, incarcerated in a dark cell at the pleasure of Hecketty Broomhead, always having to listen to others stories of the memories of their wonderful, joyful celebrations, never having any of my own to remember, never having anyone to care for, to cherish, to buy presents for-"
She broke off as her painful memories of the many lonely Christmases past that she had spent deprived of affection and love overflowed within her.
Imogen was close to her now. Much too close. She could feel her warm breath upon her forehead as she stared into her concerned eyes, still not backing away from the blonde.
"I do care about you,"
Emotion was present in every syllable that she whispered in Constance's ear before her lips brushed against the older woman's for the first time, depositing a light, compassionate kiss upon her velvety lips, translating her concern for Constance into actions rather than words that she knew would have hung awkwardly in the air between them.
They broke apart, Constance looking almost fearfully back at the woman whom she had just kissed.
"Look above you," breathed Imogen, smiling slightly, motioning with her eyes.
Constance looked up to see the green plant with the heavy clusters of dense white berries that hung from the beams above.
"Mistletoe?"... she whispered questioningly.
"Merry Christmas, Constance!" Imogen leaned in to plant another, slightly more passionate kiss upon her lips, gently reminding her that she was loved, that people did care about her, if only she could find it within her heart to let them into her life, just this once.
Constance traced her arm behind Imogen, ruffling her spiky blonde hair, unable to transmit the overwhelming feeling of being wanted, of being included, of being loved.
"I will try, I really will", she murmured, still unable to comprehend the display of affection that had just taken place.
"Come with me," said Imogen, reaching out her hand to Constance, pulling her to her feet, "I've got something to show you, it should be finished by now". She reached up to the face of the taller woman, endeavouring to cover her eyes with her hands in vain, the height difference was simply too great.
"I am capable of shutting my eyes, Imogen!" mocked Constance lightly, looking down from her lofty height.
"Good!" grinned Imogen, leading her gently out of the room, guiding her patiently down the long maze corridors to her chosen destination at the top of the main staircase.
"Open your eyes" she said, pulling lightly upon Constance's sleeve.
Constance obliged willingly, wondering what on earth she had been walked what felt like miles to witness.
The interior of the school had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Enchanted snow fell gently from the oaks beams, collecting in sparkling drifts at the foot of the wooden staircase. The smell of roasting turkey, rich Christmas pudding and flaming brandy filled the air, accompanied by the melodious sounds of a girl's choir rehearsing for the concert later that day. Minature sleigh bells had been hung from the doorframes, their faint tinkling noise audible only when the draft from the raging wind outside blew down the corridors.
"It's beautiful, Imogen!"...
Imogen lead her hand-in-hand down the creaking stairs, to the closed double doors of the Assembly Hall. They both exchanged an affectionate glance and pushed the doors wide open, gasping in wonder at the sight that lay beyond.
A huge, dark green 18ft Christmas tree stood in the centre of the Great Hall, its many branches draped in glittering swathes of tinsel, hundreds of fragile, glass baubles hung from it in a multitude of colours that were co-ordinated perfectly with each other. Enchanted white candles were suspended above the branches, their flickering orange flames throwing a shimmering light across the room. A large heap of wrapped presents in shining red, gold and silver paper sat at the bottom of the tree, neat little handwritten labels were attached bearing messages of goodwill to all.
The assembled students rose to their feet, applauding their final guest as she stared in wonder at the magnificently decorated surroundings. For once the deputy head was speechless as she looked back at the loving kindness that was present, uniting every person in the room.
Davina Bat stepped proudly up onto the stage, conducting her a capella choir for all she was worth, their clear voices ringing through the acoustic of the hall, Amelia looked up from the staff table and smiled at the sight of the tall, slender woman who stood framed in the doorway, welcoming her into the joyous family atmosphere that reigned within the room. Home at last.
The spirit of Christmas had indeed come to Cackles Academy, she reflected quietly to herself.