Authors Note: This little idea features Davina Bat returning to Cackles 2 months into term after an unfortunate incident with Mongolian revenue and customs to find that she has been replaced by Lavinia Crotchet and is understandably outraged! Amelia decides to assess both to see who stays and who goes, but neither witch is going to play fair...
I must just say that any reference to/knowledge of tarot cards in this fic is gleaned from Wikipedia, so my interpretations may not be fully accurate!
Reviews always appreciated!
It was a sunny morning and light was pouring into the dusty interior of the staff room at Cackles Academy. Lavinia Crotchet smiled to herself as she haphazardly shuffled her tarot cards, ready to make her predictions for the forthcoming day. She always did this every morning, a form of ritual that she had developed since arriving at the Academy two months ago, a little way of indulging her idiosyncrasies that was always mocked by her traditionalist colleagues, but it gave her a small feeling of satisfaction if by chance any of her wild predictions came true. She pointed her index finger at the heap of cards causing them to fan out into a neat semi-circle with a faint rustle and paused with her slim digit hovering over the deck, pondering as to which card she should draw. She settled upon the card to the furthest left and turned it over; wondering what would be forecast for the day ahead.
The Wheel of Fortune.
"A turning point with sudden changes and surprises. Plenty of new developments" she muttered quietly to herself as she pondered over the hidden meaning of the picture card.
"There are no such things as sudden surprises around here, Lavinia!" Constance Hardbroom's ringing tones echoed around the room before she appeared from thin air, as was her favoured method of arrival, her arms folded tightly across her bony chest, establishing her disapproval before she could even be addressed.
"After all, Mildred Hubble and her friends do attend school here!" she added under her breath, more for her own benefit than Lavinia's as she swept towards the tea urn that was burbling happily, little jets of steam puffing from between the joins in the metal, in desperate need of her restorative cup of morning tea, one of the few essential luxuries that she permitted herself. "Hardly an astonishing prediction!" she thought to herself- those girls had a talent for causing chaos, and uproar was to be expected at all times within a ten mile radius of them.
Lavinia continued to pour over the cards, ready to make her next choice.
"I don't know what you see in those ridiculous things!" sighed Constance in exasperation, "You're the only witch I know who uses those outdated, woolly methods of prediction- the only method that would be less accurate than tarot cards would be blind guesswork!" she harrumphed, rolling her hazel eyes at the display of illogical trust that her superstitious colleague placed in her "morning predictions".
Lavinia raised an eyebrow and made to say something in her defence but stopped herself in time, biting back the flow of words as she was accustomed to doing. Anything for a peaceful existence, and no one never seemed to managed to win an argument against Constance Hardbroom- she had seen hundreds try in her eight weeks at the academy, and none had managed the impossible as of yet. The woman had the arguing skills of a hardened debater, a mine (no, landmine!) of knowledge to be pitted against her unprepared opponents, immediately destroying any contrary argument and quashing any opposing train of thought. The fact that she was able to wrap Miss Cackle around her little finger nine times out of ten didn't help either.
"Morning everyone!" said Imogen Drill happily as she bounced into the room, still glowing from her morning jog, the faintest glisten of sweat present on her tanned brow as she threw herself bodily into the nearest armchair, smiling in greeting at her colleagues, her green eyes sparkling with the sheer joy of being alive. "It's glorious out there this morning- so warm for November!"
Constance wrinkled her brow slightly at the sight of the dishevelled woman that had draped herself so inelegantly across the patched, comfortable chair. Much as she secretly liked Imogen's free and easy style and laidback manner of portraying herself, she couldn't help but automatically turn her nose up at the direct flaunting of the rules of etiquette that had been firmly instilled in her from her youth. One simply did not turn up with even a hair out of place, let alone looking as if they had spent the night in a forest! She had her morning regime down to a fine art now, but she had been forced to spent hours agonising over her appearance in her teenage years, trying in vain to meet the exacting standards of her formidable tutor, Hecketty Broomhead. She shuddered slightly at the memory of her college days and promptly buried the uncomfortable thoughts at the bottom of her mind. Now was not the occasion to revisit those dark recollections.
"Good morning, Miss Drill, may I offer you a cup of tea?" she enquired politely, a rare trace of warmth present in her voice as she addressed the gym mistress.
"Thank you, Miss Hardbroom," Imogen smiled back at the kind gesture, "that would be lovely!"
She accepted the steaming mug with both hands, cupping them around the comfortable warmth that was radiating from the welcoming vessel. She peered interestedly at Lavinia as she frantically reshuffled the deck of tarot cards in front of her with a faint sigh of disappointment.
"Not seeing what you want to see, Lavinia?" she joked subtly, trying to mask her own raging scepticism over the trust that the chanting mistress placed in her beloved cards.
"Not exactly, Imogen…" replied Miss Crotchet absentmindedly, "I keep drawing the same card- ten times in a row now!" she pulled another card from the deck, consulted it and replaced it with a frown growing on her narrow features. "Again!" she tutted.
"And what card might that be, Lavinia?" enquired the gentle tones of Amelia Cackle as she stepped into the staffroom and headed towards the table that was laden with her favourite breakfast treats, licking her lips in anticipation as she saw a large plate of gently warmed pain au chocolat, oozing sweet, sticky chocolate that was sitting next to a selection of different cheeses melted generously onto thick slices of granary bread. Mrs Tapioca certainly knew how to spoil her.
"Nothing, nothing…" muttered Lavinia. Flustered by the sudden interest in her hobby she managed to drop half of her prized cards onto the stone floor. Miss Drill joined her in the hunt underneath the wooden table as Lavinia scrabbled to pick them up; clutching them tightly to her chest once they were recovered. "You'll only mock me as you usually do…" Miss Crotchet muttered under her breath. Imogen felt a sudden twinge of sympathy for her as she saw the hurt flare in the chanting teacher's eyes.
"Well, maybe you could predict something for me, Lavinia?" she asked gently, supressing a smile as she saw Constance's dark, slender eyebrow raise at an impossible angle, a steely glint appearing in her eye, silently demanding to know what on earth had inspired the reasoning behind her odd request.
Lavinia's smile brightened- somebody was actually taking a fledgling interest in her hobby?
"Of course my dear, I would be delighted!" she beamed, brushing her escaping blonde hair out of her face as she once again magically fanned out the deck on the blue table cloth. "Pick a card, and see how they describe you!"
Imogen drew a random card from the collection and turned it over to reveal…
The Sun
"A very positive card, my dear, it is said to reflect happiness and contentment, vitality, self-confidence and success- very apt!" smiled Lavinia.
Amelia had been watching the interactions between the two women carefully, observing in her own way and smiling at the lengths that Imogen was going to in order to include their new arrival. She turned her gaze to Lavinia, pleased to see the smile that was playing around her face, a faint rosy flush present on her apple cheeks, unused to being the centre of attention.
"May I have a go, Lavinia?" she enquired gently, her outstretched hand hovering over the deck.
Lavinia nodded quickly.
Amelia pondered for a moment and selected the card to the furthest right.
Fortitude
"Once again, very accurate! A card that often suggests qualities of kindness, patience and stability as well as expressing inner strength" analysed Lavinia.
"Come on Constance, your turn!" smiled Amelia, turning her eyes to her thunderous looking deputy who was looking as if she would much rather remove her own eyes with blunt skewers than take part in an act that she considered so far beneath her that it could have barely been visible on the other side of the universe such was the contempt that she felt for all things that fell into the collective bracket of divination.
"Headmistress?" she enquired, barely containing the indignation in her voice, a furrow of vexed displeasure appearing in her unlined forehead.
Amelia said nothing but fixed her with an unrelenting stare until Constance conceded with an incensed, "Very well!" and flicked her extended casting fingers at the collection of cards, causing the central card to rise gently into the air and turn over to reveal…
The Heirophant
Lavinia blinked in shock. Never had a card been quite so well suited...
"Frequent adjectives associated with the Heriophant include knowledge, discipline, maturity, respect and tradition!" she announced triumphantly, watching Constance allow a small, proud smile to escape as her own impeccable qualities were listed.
"Let's see your card Lavinia!" suggested Imogen.
"Ah, well I know what card that I tend to draw, Imogen…" Lavinia tailed off with a rueful smile on her face, chuckling to herself as she shuffled her treasured cards.
"Go on!" teased Imogen, a wicked smile on her face as she had a sudden inkling as to the identity of the card.
Lavnina closed her eyes and extracted the card that sat directly in front of her, consulted it and burst into laughter as the familiar card came into sight once again. She held it up to the others, still giggling with laughter.
The Fool
Constance bit down on her thin, dark lip, desperately trying not to laugh at the sight of the jester on the card.
"How apt…" she thought to herself. There was some poetic justice to be found in the fact that even the chosen method of prophecy chose to label the believer as the blind imbecile that they appeared to everybody else as. A suppressed snigger from her right told her that Imogen was thinking along the same lines.
"Oh, that's priceless!" choked Lavinia as she placed the card on the table again, "it always finds me and I've no idea why!" She dissolved into hysterics again, rocking backwards and forwards in her wooden chair, tickled pink at the reappearance of the card.
Amelia exchanged a look with her colleagues, mentally debating if it was possible that Davina Bat's replacement was even more eccentric that her predecessor…
Xxx
Far above the tall turrets of Cackles Academy, a small witch with frizzy, mousy-brown hair was fighting for control of her broomstick due to the turbulence up in the clouds. Davina's broomstick control had never been exceptional, but she was descending in an ever tightening, ever decreasing spiral towards the ground, squealing in terror as she fought for control. She hit the cobbles of the courtyard rather harder than intended, staggering as she dismounted from her broom. Surveying her familiar surroundings caused her to question what was happening.
"That's odd?" she questioned in her light voice, taking care to articulate every word precisely, tilting her head to one side as she was prone to doing when thinking, distractedly combing her fingers through her untidy hair, checking that her prized conductors baton was still lodged firmly in place.
An empty courtyard confronted her. Usually on the first day of term it was positively teeming with the young pupils of the academy, huddled together in little groups, sharing stories of what happened over the summer break. Today, there was silence.
After leaving her broomstick in the broom shed, she strode into the main building, in search of any form of life.
The appalling cacophony hit her full on as she rounded the corner next to the Great Hall- a lurid, jazzy accompaniment was being hammered out on her beloved harmonium, shrill lyrics being bellowed over the top of the appalling din.
"Stir the pot, Mix the brew, I'm a witch and so are you! We got the rock'n roll magic and the rock'n roll magic chant!"
She blinked in disbelief at the short, blonde witch who was dancing along to her hellish musical interpretations.
"And who are you?" she marched up to the other witch, planting her hands on her narrow hips, outraged that some stranger had taken it into their head to improvise, and in such an appalling fashion upon her prized instrument.
The witch continued obliviously, her dancing becoming more and more manic the more involved with the music that she got.
"EXCUSE ME!" Davina bellowed, making the other woman jump and turn to face her.
"C-can I help you?" the other witch enquired softly.
"Who are you, and what gives you the right to be playing MY harmonium!" shrilled a near hysterical Miss Bat, alarmed at the thought of the damage that was being inflicted by the horrendous music being played by the other woman, successfully resisting the urge to bypass the infuriating intruder and stroke the wooden casing of the instrument by means of an apology to it for the torture that it had clearly been undergoing.
The other woman gave her a puzzled look and cleared her throat nervously.
"I think there's been some mistake, my name is Miss Crotchet. I'm the chanting teacher here at Cackles.."
She tailed off, backing away as she saw the mounting fury in the other woman's eyes.
It was at that moment that Miss Hardbroom chose to materialise out of thin air, seeking the source of the shrieking that had been interrupting the third year potions class.
To be continued…