In the winter during Mildred Hubble's second year at Cackle's Academy, Hecate Hardbroom finds her way to said young witch's doorstep. She's dressed in her usual style of floor-length dress, sleeves tight around her arms – but not her elbows – so cauldron flames don't cause her cuffs to catch fire or for dip into some strange potion, except she is trying not to be noticeable in this strange, non-magical world.
Ergo: the colourful scarf.
It's a thirty-year old, faded, dark purple thing that might have belonged to a friend of hers, once and Hecate feels very awkward wearing it, but this errand she is running is extremely important. Mainly, Mildred Hubble's mother has to be informed of certain arrangements which must be taken care of prior to a witch's thirteenth birthday, unless Cackle's Academy wishes to be host to a variety of magical creatures both innocent and malignant.
Knocking on her door, Hecate glances at the snowy white cat staring at her from the other end of the corridor, who has been following her since she entered the property – on foot, Hecate might add. Hecate inwardly dares it to come any closer and force her to use a banishing charm, so as to not get a single white cat hair on her skirt.
"Just a second!" Comes a shout from inside the flat, prompting Hecate to face the door properly, which opens a few moments later.
Julie Hubble is a woman of average height, with a mane of curly blonde hair and a certain eye. As she looks Hecate up and down, the witch feels rather uneasy, to say the least – though perhaps that's because Julie's gaze pauses on Pippa's scarf.
"Miss Hardbroom...I thought I would have been whisked off to Cackle's without my consent if you wanted to see me about whatever Mildred's supposedly done now."
"Well met," Hecate murmurs, coughing slightly, "This is a more...private matter, one I don't think Ada has thought about properly. It's something you would be unable to arrange for Mildred, as a non-magical parent. May I enter?"
"Do you want a cup of tea?" Julie questions as she moves out the way, opening the way into her home. Hecate enters cautiously, not sure what to expect. "Sit down on the sofa. It's comfier than it looks."
"...yes, to the tea. Thank-you for offering, Ms Hubble."
"It's nothing. Rude not to, in the ordinary world." Hecate goes to sit on the sofa as Julie makes tea in the nearby kitchen. Overall, the room is small and not what Hecate expects for a growing witch. No father has ever been mentioned, nor any siblings, Hecate tries to recall even the barest of whispers, but nothing comes to mind. Perhaps not too small, then, not for two.
"Mildred is turning thirteen in a few short months," Hecate begins.
"On the first of April and she never lets me forget it," Julie immediately replies, otherwise waiting for Hecate to continue.
"...in the witching world, thirteen is a milestone of some proportion. As you have been told prior, witches gain power as they age. Thirteen is a...particularly special number. Mildred's powers will increase dramatically, as all witches' do. The results can be both wonderfully good and dreadfully unpleasant."
"How?" Julie questions, facing her sharply, concern visible. "Will Mildred be okay?"
"Mildred Hubble will be fine," Hecate says, "provided some shielding spells are erected to deal with the...surges. Magical creatures are commonly attracted to such phenomena – both good and bad."
"What kind of creatures?" Julie queries.
"All sorts," Hecate replies, watching Julie make her cup of tea. "Two sugars, no milk, thank-you."
"No problem. But what kind?"
Hecate wonders at it, for a moment, that this woman belongs to a long line of witches who forsook their magic for a Founding Stone; that this woman comes from a family of witches who sacrificed a world for twelve generations to keep a magical black spot from forming; that this woman, who only shows wonder and curiosity at that world which has been denied her, is Mildred Hubble's mother.
"I met a unicorn when I turned thirteen. It saved me from blowing up an entire forest with how much magic was escaping me."
"An entire forest? You're really that powerful?" Julie makes her tea, brings it over and only looks at her in concern. There's no fear there, no jealousy or anger – just concern, concern Hecate recognises from Mildred.
Her mother's daughter.
"I am a unique case," Hecate says, shifting on the sofa that is indeed as comfortable as Julie claimed. "Though, not so unique. The reason I am here today is about shielding Mildred, yes, but it is also to discuss why."
"I thought you just explained that."
"The average witch does just fine inside Cackle's on their thirteenth," Hecate replies quietly, remembering being that young and being so very, extremely scared. "Ethel Hallow has taken to proclaiming she shall be the most powerful second year in the school. I would expect some complaints from Mildred when your daughter finds out she shares her birthday with her nemesis."
Julie immediately shuts her eyes, groaning. "This has to stop. Why hasn't that Hallow girl been expelled yet, anyway?"
"Ada believes in second chances; also, third, fourth and fifth chances. Perhaps sixth. Seven may be breaking her limit," Hecate says, lip twitching as Julie snorts, shaking her head. "Many do not know the true extent of Ethel Hallow's crimes. Only for Ada and for the sake of young Sybil Hallow, do I not go to her home like this and speak to her parents frankly. They would remove her, if they knew."
"Shut up about Hallow's," Julie shakes her head again. "Please. Tell me more about this dreaded thirteenth birthday."
"I believe that I may be able to be of assistance. The week before her birthday, I would bring her to my office and summon you, if you wish it, so we both might explain. I would cast protective enchantments around her – wards, if I believed them to be the better option. I'll know better closer to the time."
"Wards?" Julie grimaces, sipping her tea. "Right, this is slipping into some strange territory, now. You'll have to explain wards to me, before I go around giving you permission to bamboozle my daughter."
Hecate sneers slightly, "I would not bamboozle your daughter, Ms Hubble...this is for her own safety and the safety of her peers."
"All the same, I don't want to be tricked into agreeing something I don't know the basic ins and outs of, please." Julie is steadfast in the face of Hecate's silence. She sips her tea as she waits for an answer, watching her without judgement.
Eventually, Hecate sips her own tea, surprisingly pleased to find it perfect – just the way she likes it.
"It will take you learning the basics of magical theory to understand even the smallest amount of what wards are," she says, watching a blinding smile appear on Julie's face behind her mug, so like her daughter it's funny. A smile tugging at her lips, Hecate tilts her head, "If I taught you such, would that be ample reassurance?"
"That'd be brilliant, Miss Hardbroom."
"Call me Hecate."
"Well, Hecate," Julie holds out an outstretched hand in that strange, non-magical way Hecate has seen before and blushed at the sight of, "call me Julie."
"Julie," Hecate greets, taking her hand gently. Julie shakes and doesn't seem to feel the magic between them, binding them to their agreement, taking her hand back with friendly ease as she leans sideways into the sofa, bringing up her legs under her knees.
"So, where do we start?"
Hecate sips her – very perfect, very pleasant – tea and wonders, where indeed, to start.