The streets of the non-magical town are quiet at this time of night. Hecate's arm itches, stinging as she moves it under her coat. She wants to heal the abused skin beneath her coat and the non-magical cling film, but knows better than that – the first and last time she did that, her magic completely destroyed the tattoo, not yet having recognised it as part of her, yet. A waste of her time and money. She even had to find a different artist for her next one, in case they asked about their previous artwork.
Seeing a sign for a local lake up ahead, below a direction to a park, Hecate decides to take a detour on her way out of town, where her broom awaits against a tree. Her heels click against the concrete path as she discreetly uses a small bit of magic to push a discarded, smashed glass bottle out of her path. Non-magicals, Hecate rolls her eyes at their continual disregard for their own planet. One you share, not that you know of our world, hidden from sight as it is.
She approaches the park within a few minutes of walking, entering through the gated archway and following the path to the lake. Finding a bench at the edge of the water, Hecate sits delicately, sitting in silence, looking up at the cloudless, starry sky.
"Draco, Ursa Minor, Hercules..."
"Arcturus is over there," comes a new voice. Hecate startles, twisting to see another young woman, her curly hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She looks up at the sky and Hecate notices the strange, blue uniform she wears under her knit-jumper with a watch hanging from the pocket and a pen tucked into the v-collar. "I always liked the stars. My sister's studying astronomy in university. I'm almost jealous."
"...why?" Hecate questions. The woman glances at her.
"Why what?"
"Why are you...jealous?" Hecate clarifies.
The woman shrugs, a bag on her shoulder swinging as she makes her way to join Hecate on the bench. Stiffening, wondering if it was a bad idea to take her detour, Hecate stays quiet as she talks.
"She gets to look at the stars through the best telescopes. I mean, it's not all fun, I know – she's all into learning the physics of it all. I was always better at biology. It's why I'm a doctor- junior doctor," she seemingly corrects herself. "Moe's better at memorising numbers than me. She can remember all the coordinates to nearly all the stars you can see in the northern hemisphere. Why do you like the stars?"
Their significance in rituals, Hecate wants to say, but this woman in very much, very obviously non-magical. Instead, she clears her throat and lies, politely. "The universe is magnificent."
"It is, isn't it?" The woman smiles and for a while, they sit in silence, the lake lapping at the concrete shore. "I'm Julie."
"...Hecate," Hecate offers.
"Ooh, very witchy," Julie smiles at her instead of the sky, now and Hecate flushes at the – most likely – unintended compliment. "I come out here after my shift, usually. I've never seen you around before. We have a couple of people that come out here to stargaze together, on clear nights."
"I had business in town," Hecate says softly, looking at Canes Venatici to avoid looking at Julie.
"You're always welcome to come back and meet up with us, if you like," Julie offers cheerily, if a little tiredly, yawning. "Sorry. Long day."
"Sleep is important," the witch offers, repeating the advice her own aunt offered her, when she was young and stressed over exams and teenage flights of fancy – things that shouldn't bother in adulthood, but still do, no matter how much she tries to get over them.
Sleep doesn't cure heart-ache, she remembers saying to her aunt, so blunt and careless with her words. Hecate supposes that it's the wrong advice to offer to this non-magical doctor who likes to stare at the stars in the context Hecate means.
However, Julie hums in agreement. "And I don't get enough of it." She stands, checking her watch. "I have to go. Early shift tomorrow morning. It was nice meeting you, Hecate – maybe I'll see you around, some time." She waves and then she walks away.
Hecate waits until she's out of sight before speaking in a murmur, "Maybe." She looks back up at the stars again, watching them twinkle up in the sky, whispering the names of constellations into the night until her neck aches and the cold seems to have settled into her bones.
Then, she leaves the lake and the park, retrieving her broomstick and flying up into the bright, starry sky to return to Cackle's Academy.
The next month, she returns to the small city to have the next section of her tattoo done. It's rainy and cloudy, though the sun breaks through in small bursts to brighten parts of the busy town. After the artist is done needling the black figures into her lower arm, Hecate goes to a local café for lunch, her stomach rumbling. She feels queasy at the thought of food, but she hadn't had breakfast that morning and she's swaying from blood-loss.
The nearest café is three doors down from the tattoo parlour, serving tea, sandwiches, soup and cakes. Hecate orders said soup – cream of tomato, such a different kind of dish from her usual witchy palate – with brown seeded bread and a pot of green tea, not expecting to find Julie the star-gazing doctor reading a medical journal in the back alcove, out of sight unless you were looking for a cosy, out-of-sight nook.
Likewise unexpectedly, Julie looks up in time to see Hecate, eyes brightening in recognition.
"Hecate, wasn't it? Would you like to join me? If you're not meeting someone, of course."
Hecate hesitates, looking around. The café is practically empty, only one family of four sitting at the front by the window – there are plenty of tables. Julie waits for an answer and with a burst of impulsiveness, Hecate sits without answering. Though, I suppose sitting is an answer in itself, she then thinks.
"How have you been?" Julie questions.
"I am a teacher," Hecate offers, unprompted, "and it is exam season."
Julie hisses in pity. "Good luck. What do you teach?"
It takes Hecate a moment to remember what qualifies as potions in the non-magical world. "Practical chemistry."
"Oh, chemistry, I remember that in school," Julie sighs, "I had to get a higher qualification to get into my uni course. Teaching, now that would be easier to get into that medicine – probably just as hard though, right? All that responsibility on your shoulders, educating the next generation..."
"I find teaching to be a responsibility, yes, but while it is a burden, it is one I take willingly and with pride," Hecate answers, confident in answering. A waitress comes over with her soup and she thanks them, buttering her bread-roll as soon as the waitress leaves.
"It's good soup," Julie recommends, a smile on her face. "My mum owns this place."
Surprised, Hecate raises an eyebrow, glancing over at the small kitchen, visible to all throughout the café. Guessing that the older blonde woman is her mother, Hecate tilts her head.
"She must be proud of you for going into such a...harried career."
"Yeah. First in the family to go to university in, what, four generations? Hubble-Bubble Tearoom was the family pride and joy for a while, then Moe and I went and got into the University of Nottingham. Moe went into Physics and Astronomy and I got through med school. It seems like it was just yesterday I was waiting tables here," Julie looks around, obviously nostalgic. She points over to the wall by the counter, where a crooked painting of a cat sleeping on a cushion hangs. "That picture is hiding a hole in the wall from when Moe tripped and accidentally threw an ornamental copper teapot."
"You have many memories here," Hecate notes, eating her soup, listening to Julie chatter on about the café and hijinks they both got up to around town as kids. Strangely, the mundane conversation – some of it strange, some of it inspiring baffled looks from Julie when Hecate questions what things are, like Star Wars – is interesting and perhaps even intriguing.
When Hecate finishes her lunch, Julie asks why she was in town and Hecate, calm and hoping that the talkative woman – who she would happily never see again if she disapproved – would find it just as interesting as Hecate found her conversation, rolls up the flowing sleeve of her black dress to show the intricate black design work.
Julie's eyes widen in awe at the sight. "Wow! That's beautiful, Hecate! Does it hurt? Do the symbols mean anything?"
Smiling slightly, Hecate brushes her braid – let down from a bun today, but not from its thick plait – over her other shoulder, leaning slightly as she holds up her sleeve.
"They're Aramaic spells," she says, aware that Julie would think it all make-believe. "They're supposed to help protect me and warn me of danger; let me hear things from afar; focus magic and...and, well, they're all connected. That's another magic in itself, boosting their power and synchronicity. I designed it all myself."
"Amazing," Julie stares, leaning slightly to see the spiral of tiny figures reaching down from her shoulder to her wrist, covered in cling-film once more. "And you don't get in trouble at the school you teach?"
"I wear long sleeves as a matter of precaution in my classroom," Hecate replies. "Not many see my bare skin."
"Am I special, then?" Julie jokes, meeting her eyes as she leans back, the waitress coming over to retrieve Hecate's dishes and the empty plate that had been in front of Julie. "Thanks, love."
"Your welcome, Miss Hubble," the waitress says cheerily, leaving their table a little cleaner as she leaves.
Julie Hubble, Hecate thinks, rolling her sleeve back down. "You are definitely something, at least," she says in answer to her question. "Very few people talk to me uninvited. I'm rather...I suppose the word is intimidating."
"Tosh," Julie waves her off. "You're plenty intimidating but that doesn't give people any less of a right to approach you – unless you mean to be unapproachable, I suppose."
"My parents expect me to be austere and so I am," Hecate replies, "I doubt I'd have survived childhood if I hadn't picked up a few things from them."
Julie frowns, "That's a shame. My mum always taught me to be kind where I could, to be happy in life with what I've made for myself because that's the only way you live well in the world."
"Quite right," Hecate agrees, sipping her tea as she nods. "Have you been out star-gazing recently?"
"The weather's not been quite right," Julie says, a little morose as she has some of her own tea, leaning back in her chair. "Though the forecast is clear for this weekend. My friend Bill is going out on the Saturday evening – we're meeting at the north end of the park. Would you like to come?"
"I would," Hecate says, surprised at the offer and a tiny bit grateful – in the midst of exams, many of the girls at Cackle's were coming to her in crisis and frankly, Hecate needs a break from the constant out-of-class-hours tutoring. I don't begrudge them, but teaching can't be my sole life venture.
"Lovely," Julie smiles another winning smile at her, much like those ones she'd given Hecate in the park.
She's so very open, this non-magical woman and it makes Hecate squirm slightly, but at the same time just invites her in. The woman offers her friendship without question, speaking to her as if they'd known each other since the cradle – it's so very, very different to Hecate's previous friendships.
Julie continues, "We're meeting at nine and providing the weather holds up, we may or may not be having a bottle of wine."
"It sounds lovely, providing this...Bill, doesn't get handsy," Hecate replies, a little wary at spending time with a wizard- man. A non-magical man, at that.
"The only one getting handsy might be me," Julie admits with a nervous chuckle, "I'm a bit of a lightweight. Bill's been married something like eighty years, anyway. His wife comes with us, sometimes, but her joints don't do well in the cold. Their granddaughter is supposed to be coming with – she's nineteen, in her first year of a literature degree. Apparently, she needs a break, hence the star-gazing and the wine."
"I see," Hecate, not skipping over the only one getting handsy might be me part. Hecate finds that she might not be averse to the concept – especially seeing as what it implied. Julie had just, perhaps, warned her in advance that she might lose her inhibitions around Hecate and act on them – with Hecate.
Perhaps.
Of course, she's right.
There are two bottles of wine and Hecate has her fair share, but Julie was already fairly tipsy half a glass in. Even Bill's granddaughter, a girl by the name of Susan, who only had one and a half glasses, seems less drunk than Julie.
Hecate finds herself startling more than once when Julie brushes her arm, leaning against her and then full-out laying her head on her lap to look up at the sky, the picnic blanket the only thing keeping her from getting soaked on the dewy grass. Bill suggestively wiggles his eyebrows at them and Susan seems a tad oblivious, even as Julie's hand winds its way up Hecate's sleeve, thumb tracing the crook of her elbow.
"Pretty," Julie sighs, looking up. Hecate tilts her head, glancing up at Vega, in the Lyra constellation.
"It is," she agrees, hearing Bill cough, trying to hide a laugh. Glancing at him suspiciously, Hecate narrows her eyes, seeing the old man motioning surreptitiously at Julie. Hecate looks down – to see Julie looking right at her.
Me.
Cheeks flushing slightly, Hecate bites her lip. "I see."
"You're as pretty as the Aurora Borealis," Julie states.
"That's not a star," Hecate frowns, wondering what she's referring to – wondering if she means an aurora itself. I'm not as pretty as an aurora.
"It's called the Northern Lights, sometimes," Julie says, recognising the look on her face. "It's green, a spectrum of colour that floats in the sky, near the North pole. I think the Southern Lights are called Aurora Australias, or something."
"Aurora Australis," Susan corrects softly.
"...an aurora," Hecate realises that her theory was correct, immediately flattered. She stares at Julie, wondering how to return the compliment. Julie is attractive – Hecate won't deny that. Her hair is pretty. Pippa had blonde hair, too, but not like Julie's. Julie's hair is honey blonde and golden, full of natural brown streaks, the top layers brightened from sunlight. Sunlight, she thinks again, inspired suddenly. "You...you're a sun. A star."
"Thank-you," Julie smiles, all bright like the sun Hecate had compared her to even in the dark, teeth showing.
Bill leaves, ordering Susan to bring him home. He winks at Hecate as they go, leaving the rest of the wine and the picnic blanket behind. Hecate raises her eyebrow, but Julie's snickering causes her to look down.
"He's always trying to get me laid," she says, still laughing. Hecate's eyebrow rises higher. "Last time I brought someone out here, we ended up shagging for a couple of months because of Bill's timely exit, but he went to go study pharmacology in London. I couldn't afford to moves so we broke up."
Hecate stiffens. He. Him. I...I have misjudged this- haven't I? She frowns, not understanding, feeling as if Julie had deceived her in some way. I thought she liked witches. Women.
"Do you like women?" Julie questions her, sounding slightly worried. "I'd understand if you thought I was just being friendly, because I was, but I wasn't. I've had too many friends say my tastes should stick in the decidedly straight category and to stop talking to them."
"I-" Hecate hesitates. "I prefer...women."
"I like both men and women. Bisexuality. It's a thing. Not everyone gets it. Being solely into men or solely into women isn't how I work – it's both, not either or...I'm not usually this open about all this. I'm really damn drunk, I think," Julie shuffles a little, still lying on Hecate's lap. She reaches up, tugging on the end of Hecate's braid. "Do you want to change the subject?"
"It isn't necessary," Hecate says quietly, mulling over Julie's short explanation. Bisexuality. I've never heard of it. "I have enjoyed your company, so far. I'd like to continue speaking to you."
"But not date?" Julie queries, brow furrowing.
The question causes Hecate to grimace, because there are far more reaching causes for Hecate not to have a – romantic – relationship with a non-magical, mainly because of that little fact: Julie is a non-magical. Hecate wouldn't be able to keep the magical world a secret from her, not forever. It wouldn't be right or fair.
"I need time to think that part over," she admits, "but if we could remain friends currently, that would be...good. There are...other factors that have to be taken into consideration, when I'm not mildly intoxicated."
"Yeah," Julie agrees faintly, "You should never make big decisions when you're drunk...want to shag tonight, though, as a one-off?"
"...that would be agreeable."
A routine settles in. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Hecate goes to Hubble-Bubble Tearoom and has a non-magical lunch. When her shifts don't interfere, Julie joins her and on Friday evenings – Saturdays, when Julie can't manage – they meet at her flat and sleep together. Frankly, Hecate should go by her own word and wait to make a decision, but they fall into bed with each other every week or so.
But waking up in the morning after with Julie at her side makes her intimately aware of how lonely and cold her own bed at Cackle's Academy is. Julie even makes her breakfast, sometimes. Hecate gets used to making them both tea in the morning and when they have a moment, Julie will push her up against her counter and kiss her – sometimes gently, sometimes hard.
That's only on the weekends, though. Weekdays are strictly friendly, except for when their feet brush under the table and when Julie takes her hand briefly, behind the teapot. Hecate daydreams about Julie's eyes and lips in the staff-room and forgets her jumpers and cloaks on the bedroom hangers in her flat. She even knows what Star Wars is, now, because they watched the trilogy one weekend evening. Julie wants to take her to a cinema to see the new Star Wars prequel movie, The Phantom Menace.
Learning about the non-magical world makes Hecate think of her own world, however. What would Julie think of their plays, of broomstick displays and chanting? Would she be impressed by potions or disgusted? What would she think of Hecate's lies? Chemistry is not potions, not really, Hecate thinks miserably.
"Distracted, Hecate?" Ada questions her.
Blinking out of her thoughts, Hecate glances at the headmistress, tilting her head. "Somewhat."
"May I ask what about?" the older witch sits in an armchair, eating a biscuit as Rita Gullet puts her booted feet up on a pouffe before Miss Bat can.
"I find myself wondering whether to tell my..." Hecate hesitates, "partner, about the magical world."
Rita exclaims, "Tell them? What have you gone and done, Miss Hardbroom? Non-magical people shouldn't be told anything about our world!"
"Now, Miss Gullet," Ada chides gently, "if Hecate loves them, then it would be unfair to them both for such secrets to be kept."
"I'm not sure if I love them, yet, I was just considering the circumstance – don't worry yourself, Miss Gullet," Hecate sneers at the other woman, "it was just a thought."
Rita scoffs, "One best left at rest, if you ask me."
"Well, I didn't ask you," Hecate glares. "So silence yourself."
"Alright, alright, just trying to help," Rita glares right back sullenly before falling quiet.
"Hecate," Ada starts quietly, "I have known you for nearly ten years now and in that time, I haven't seen you so content than you have been recently, in the last few months – in exam season, no less. If you think this person will love you for who you really are, I can only say this: give them that chance."
"Thank-you, Ada," Hecate replies, grateful. The headmistress smiles kindly at her, leaning back in her seat with her biscuit, turning to Miss Bat to discuss the rowdy pair of girls who had disrupted her class that morning.
I'll tell her this summer, Hecate decides, if we talk properly about where our relationship is going...after we talk properly. I only hope she doesn't think I'm mad.
That evening, however, she creates a memory potion, tucking it away into the back of her shelves and hoping she won't have to use it on the person she is slowly growing to love.
"Hecate," Mistress Hubble calls over to her as she enters the café. Hecate approaches the cheery woman, nodding politely. "How has your day been?"
"One of my fourth years had an accident today, but other than that, I am fine," Hecate replies, checking the chalkboard for the soup of the day. Grimacing at the offered pea and ham, Hecate browses the sandwiches board, picking out a three-cheese toasted melt. Mistress Hubble takes her order happily, questioning whether she'd like the usual pot of tea. "I would, thank-you."
"Julie called to say she won't be in, today," Mistress Hubble says before she can go to sit at their usual table. "She's moved to the children's ward, did she tell you?"
"She did," Hecate frowns.
"A little girl came in with meningitis," Mistress Hubble says to her in a hush. "It's a dangerous disease. The girl could die. Julie refuses to leave."
"I see," Hecate's lips twist, thinking I have marking I could do now instead of tonight.
"Moe's back from university to visit, though," Mistress Hubble says, remarkably happier than before. "You should say hello – that's her, over there."
Hecate twists, pinpointing the infamous 'Moe', Julie's younger sister. She's sitting two tables away from Hecate's usual, leaning back in her chair like a child, biting into a gravy-covered chip as she reads from a book, looking remarkably like her sister despite the other discrepancies.
"Moe!" Mistress Hubble then calls, getting her attention. "Come say hello to Julie's girlfriend!"
Moe raises an eyebrow at the sight of Hecate, putting her book down and twisting sideways in her seat, long blonde hair falling in front of her eyes. "Hey," she looks Hecate up and down as she tucks the stray strands behind her ear, "so you're the one who didn't know what Star Trek was."
"Star Trek?" Hecate frowns. "I thought it was Star Wars."
Moe immediately makes a face, "No! She's already indoctrinated you!" Moe stands, swiftly coming over to stand by Hecate, looping their arms together and patting her shoulder consolingly. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you know which franchise is better."
Mistress Hubble scoffs, "You girls and your sci-fi. My daughters – heads stuck tilted back so they can stare at the sky. You'd be better off with some good, old-fashioned superheroes-"
"Okay, first off, before you say anything else," Moe interrupts, looking to Hecate, "Don't believe anything she says about comics. Marvel Comics are so much better than DC Comics. It's the one thing Jules and I agree on."
Unaware of what any of those things are, Hecate simply tries to loosen Moe's grip on her arm without seeming too distressed by the contact. No, no, no, no, no, she thinks at the prolonged grip. Let go, she thinks, getting more uncomfortable by the second.
"Moe, let go of her," Mistress Hubble comes to her rescue, sharply whacking her daughter over the counter. "Remember the rule about personal space."
"Oh, right," Moe mutters as she lets go, clenching her arms and bringing her hand up, elbow stuck to her side. She moves backwards until the ends of her fingers are brushing Hecate's arm. "Sorry," she says as she relaxes again, keeping her distance. "I never really took in all the normal rules about being social and polite. Julie considers you family, so I do as well – she's told us everything about you. She likes to gush about Hecate Hardbroom, her clever Hecate, her pretty Hecate."
"Right," Hecate says tersely, still a little uncomfortable. Moe is nothing like Julie. Julie is all wonder, fascination and cheeriness with a splash of talk – Moe is a shock, words spilling out of her mouth faster than Julie speaks and definitely, she doesn't understand the concept of boundaries.
"If she does something wrong or upsetting, tell her," Mistress Hubble instructs, "it's the only reason she'll know, otherwise. Things fly over her head. She can guess, but she gets it wrong."
"I understand," Hecate replies stiffly, only slightly understanding. "Apologies, but I will have to cancel my order. I will not be lunching here today."
"Haven't even put it through yet, sweetheart, you go – will we still see you this Thursday?"
"Most probably," Hecate says, nodding staunchly to the woman before leaving briskly, wanting to put some distance between herself and Moe, so as to regain some of her composure. She had not been ready for...that. She had been ready for Julie.
I would like to see Julie more often, she thinks, almost desperately. Summer holidays begin in less than a week. Surely that means I could spend more time with her...Hecate thinks about changing their schedule, of meeting on Tuesdays and Thursdays, of staying over on the weekends and it burns her inside. The rules they've set up for each other are ones that give her structure – chaos doesn't agree with her. Hecate wants, though, she wants to establish new rules even if the change will put her off-kilter.
I really do love her, Hecate thinks, if I'm so willingly desperate to do that.
Walking down the high-street, Hecate pulls her coat around herself to keep the wind from freezing her. Out here in broad daylight, in the non-magical world, she refuses to risk her community by doing even the smallest piece of warming magic, happy with the black pea-coat Julie had gifted her only a month beforehand. Truthfully, it's her favourite of what birthday gifts she'd received – except, maybe, the card from Pippa.
Happy birthday, Hecate and happy thirteenth anniversary of the day we met. Pippa Pentangle's message had been short and the card plain, causing Hecate so much guilt, even despite the fact that she'd sent a reply with thanks and the same, latter sentiments, as per tradition. The card is tucked into her office drawer right now, hiding beneath an old speech Hecate had written for the National Potions Conference.
"Penny for your thoughts, Hecate?" Comes a strange voice, someone syncing into step with her. Hecate looks sharply sideways and then down, recognising Bill's granddaughter, Susan, her brown plaits dyed red and streaked with blonde. "You look depressed."
"And you look...rebellious."
Susan shrugs, "I wanted a Ginger Spice look. My grandda doesn't like it."
"Neither do I," Hecate replies, not in the mood to be any more careful with her words.
"Thanks," Susan puffs a scarf that had been hiding in her jacket collar up around her face, voice muffled as she continues speaking. "You know, my mum's from a magical family."
Hecate screeches to a halt, almost stumbling on a crack in the pavement. She turns to stare at Susan, who tucks her hands in her pocket. "I beg your pardon?"
"My mum – she's from a magical family. I went to Cackle's, actually. I remember you. I was in first year when you were in sixth."
Baffled, Hecate continues to stare at the younger woman, not recalling having ever seen her before in her school years.
"I'm Susan Crow, from my dad," she continues, "but my mum was a Twigg, before. She and her sisters all went to Cackle's, as well. I heard you're the potions teacher there, nowadays."
"...I am," Hecate confirms, before something occurs to her, "but I thought you were in university."
"I'm in magical university," Susan grins, "Weirdsister Academy for Post-Witchery Education, actually. I'm studying Astrology and Runes, with a correspondence course module on non-magical literature. New requirements at Weirdsister say we have to take a non-magical module so we can get away with being hidden in a non-magical city. Excuses for non-magicals, you know the drill."
"Does Julie know about magic?" Hecate questions, slightly flustered.
"She's seen a few tricks I've pulled, but grandda made me promise not to unless she's steaming – which isn't hard," Susan snickers, before looking to her watch. "I have to go. I'm catching a train back to uni in half an hour, but knowing me it'll be ten minutes earlier than I expected. It was nice seeing you, Hecate. Next time I'm up, I'll pop around Cackle's or something – it'd be nice to see Miss Bat again. Bye!"
"Goodbye," Hecate watches Susan swan off down the street, turning a corner to the train station a moment later. She was magical the entire time...I didn't even realise. Though, Hecate thinks maybe that should be a given – she had only met the girl three times, all of those times during their evening outings with Julie. Does Bill know about magic? He must, she's his granddaughter...
Strangely, Susan gives her hope, though. Susan's mother obviously married a non-magical and her daughter went to Cackle's. We could have that, Hecate thinks, imagining little girls with her dark hair and Julie's smile. There are certainly potions for it...
"I need to tell her," Hecate mumbles upon a moment of clarity, before walking steadily in the opposite direction of where her broom is parked, going towards Julie's flat. It's time. It's now or never. I want a life with Julie.
Hecate needs to tell Julie the truth.
Waiting for her to return home is a nightmare. Hecate has to return to Cackle's for classes in the afternoon, but when secluded in Julie's flat – having been given a spare key several weeks ago – she can transfer herself there and back without fear of being caught, though she does worry for the safety of her broom. Julie doesn't come home from the hospital, though and Hecate feels as if she's invading when she stays over that night without Julie there with her.
The next day – Wednesday – Hecate transfers to Cackle's and back once again, taking lunch with the staff to enforce some sense of normality to her day. She feels a lot less nervous that way, but her evening tea with Ada doesn't happen because she's already returned to Julie's flat for dinner, helping herself to non-magical cereal and Julie's blue milk. She waits and waits – wondering if this is normal, if Julie goes to the hospital and works for days on end.
Hecate sleeps through the night and is woken up at sunrise on Thursday morning to the opening and closing of Julie's front door, her girlfriend tiredly stumbling through to the bedroom and not even looking at Hecate twice. She strips out of her scrubs, pulling on a stray t-shirt before untying her hair from its bun, dropping into bed beside Hecate. She even murmurs a hello, love before falling dead asleep by her side, arm trapping Hecate in place.
For several hours, Hecate lays in bed, watching Julie sleep. She's fully awake when Julie's alarm goes off at ten a.m., causing her to startle and for Julie to groan, arm reaching for her clock, grabbing it and finding the snooze button. But she doesn't go back to sleep, forcing her eyes open. Bleary, Julie looks at her, making a confused face.
"Did we arrange something, Teya? I must have forgot...sorry."
"No, we didn't arrange anything," Hecate replies quietly, pulling the covers up a little further over Julie's arm as she wriggles, obviously still seeking the warmth of their bed. "I may have stayed over without permission, however. I came on Tuesday evening."
"Tuesday?" Julie's nose scrunches up, "You really wanted to see me that badly?"
"I love you," Hecate says without recourse. Almost immediately, Julie replies.
"I love you, too. You can stay over whenever you like, Hecate – living in a boarding school with dozens of children can't be the best, at times."
"...thank-you for the offer," Hecate says, wondering if perhaps the sincerity of her words had escaped her half-asleep partner. "When you're more awake, I have something important to tell you."
"Alright," Julie shuts her eyes again. "Can you wake me at noon? We can get lunch...wait," she blinks, sitting up, "don't you have classes to be teaching?"
"Wednesday was the last day of term," Hecate says, looking up at her from where she's laying. "Other than the paperwork to upgrade the girls to their next year, organisation of timetables and suchlike for next year and filing the appropriate graduation papers for the sixth-years, I have nothing to do."
"Oh, alright," Julie says, stretching out her arms. "I've changed my mind. I'll have a nap in the afternoon or something. I've got today off with an early-morning shift tomorrow. What did you want to tell me?"
Hecate takes in a deep breath. "It is hard to explain. You might think I'm mad or worse, a lunatic. I'm aware of the various opinions that...that ordinary people have on it."
"Well, now you're making me curious." Julie comments, crossing her legs, Hecate wondering how to prove to her that magic exists. I haven't seen Morgana in a while, she thinks, coming up with a plan.
"I'm going to prove it exists immediately after telling you, so please, hold back any judgement you might have before I do so," Hecate warns, before sitting up, arranging herself on the bed so her knees are tucked under her. "Julie Hubble – I am a witch and magic is very, very real."
She sees the twist in Julie's face and immediately, Hecate transfers Morgana to the space between them, her cat easily dealing with the long distance after being her familiar for so long, her magic intricately binding them together. Hecate reaches out to stroke Morgana fondly as Julie stares at the animal, mouth opening and closing.
"...that's a cat," she starts, a slightly manic smile appearing on her face, "that appeared from nowhere."
"I transferred her here," Hecate corrects gently. "The school I work in is an all-witches magical secondary: Cackle's Academy for Witches. I am the potions teacher and the Deputy Headmistress. You are the non-magical woman whom I love...dearly. I did not want to lie to you any longer about who I was."
"Right, right...okay, this is a bit much, I will admit," Julie says, reaching out to stroke Morgana's head tentatively. "Real cat. Great. Okay..."
"I'd also like to add that you already knew a witch, before me," Hecate says, catching Julie's attention.
"Who? I didn't realise – are you all hiding, then?"
"We prefer as little contact as we can," Hecate says, "and the witch you already knew is Susan. Her mother was a witch, too, who married into Bill's family."
"...so, you're magic, the school you work at is...magic and...Susan is magic?" Julie's brow furrows and Hecate nods, waiting to see what she'll do. She startles when Julie leans forwards over Morgana, taking her face with her hands and kissing her. Julie leans back, their eyes locked together. "Surprised I'm taking it so well?"
"Yes," Hecate frowns, recalling how she'd just said it was a bit much.
"It'll take a while to sink in, but you kind of summoned a cat," Julie looks down, to where Morgana is now laying, head pressing up against Hecate's bare knee. "What's her name?"
"Morgana," Hecate reaches up to Julie's wrists, holding them gently as Julie kisses her again, chuckling into her lips. "What is it?" Hecate questions.
Julie grins. "Well, we're a lesbian couple with a cat. Kind of gets in with the stereotypes, if you know what I mean."
"I can only guess," Hecate replies, before Julie snickers.
"Right. It makes a lot more sense now, you not knowing pop culture – non-magic culture. You'll have to teach me what your lot do for fun, some day. Promise?"
"I promise," Hecate swears, a small smile appearing on her face as warmth suffuses her chest.
"So," Julie continues, sounding sly all of a sudden, her eyes twinkling, "what kind of magic can you do? Anything that might make our relationship...fun?"
"If you're talking about sex," Hecate starts wryly, "there are things we can do, but they aren't technically pleasurable. In the witching community, for example, witches who are together like we are can have children."
Julie's mouth drops. "No way. Together? As in, they're both parents?"
"I've always wanted children," Hecate looks away from Julie briefly, embarrassed, "which is why I thought it prudent to tell you of magic sooner rather than later."
"Well, lucky for you, I like kids," Julie says, sounding too morose for Hecate to not take notice. At her worried frown, Julie shakes her head. "A little girl died this morning. We couldn't help her."
"I'm sorry, Julie."
"No, it's- it's alright," Julie shakes her head again, kissing Hecate's forehead. "I'd love to have a kid, some day. Not now, obviously – we met six months ago. In the future though, I think that'd be great, Hecate."
"I love you," Hecate says again, unable to stop the words from falling out of her mouth again. Julie kisses her and Hecate clings to her, until Morgana makes a noise of protest. Hecate transfers her back to Cackle's with a flick of her wrist, Julie startling and then laughing.
"This magic thing, then, tell me about it. Tell me everything."
"Of course," Hecate says. "Witch and wizard-kind have been around for millennia, from before the Dark Days and the rise of King Arthur..."