As their brooms gracefully desended onto a patch of ground with crispy, golden leaves littered like snowflakes on Christmas Day. Mildred stood there, listening for Constance. There was nothing but silence. Mildred screamed at the top of her lungs, letting all her anger out. Her scream echoed across the area, getting louder and louder every moment.
"Be quiet Mildred Hubble!" Constance sternly ordered, appearing out of thin air. This always made Mildred shiver, for it was a lot more threatening and scary now that Constance was just a child.
"Constance, it's not that bad. Who cares if she mistakes you for me? I'm practically an angel," Mildred tried to reassure Constance, but she was failing at it badly.
"It's terrible Mildred. I'm stuck like... like... this, and there is nothing in the world that can reverse it," Constance said, clearly on the brink of tears.
"The Inspectors that came, you have their magic address. You can write to them, maybe even fly to them! They can reverse it and everything will go back to the way it was," Maud said, trying to get her words to make sense.
"No Maud Moonshine, that won't work. I can remember my own memories, memories from my adulthood, but they can't remember me," Constance said, her voice shaking.
"Who's they?" Enid asked, intrigued.
"Everyone who wasn't on the ground when the spell was cast," Constance explained, regaining her posture and changing her expression to the usual unreadable one.
"Maybe someone magic who doesn't work for Broomhead was on the grounds at the time of the cast?" Mildred said, hoping it would be true.
"Impossible Mildred. Broomhead and Agatha and Agatha's pathetic cronies were putting the spell on the night before, meaning that we couldn't exit and only they could enter. I could hear them thinking. I could hear you dreaming Mildred. I went to attack them, to try and put a whole in the wall. Amelia thought I'd gone mad, for they did it while they were under an invisiblity potion. She didn't see the trance spell hit me. I didn't see it coming. This is all my fault!" Constance ran and sat a rock, the tears pouring out of her eyes, running down her cheeks.
Mildred followed Constance and sat down next to her. She slowly wrapped her arm around Constance's shoulder. Constance looked at Mildred frightened. She shivered but did not shake Mildred off.
"I think I'm 13," Constance said, after awhile.
"What makes you think that?" Enid rudely demanded.
"On the 13th of January 1973, my younger brother accidentally stabbed me with a knife," Constance explained.
"But how does that prove your age?" Maud asked, confused, "And how do you even remember that date?"
"My birthday is the 14th of January," Constance said.
"That's tomorrow!" Enid said excitedly, "We can have cake, I know how to magic one and we must have a party..."
"Enid Nightshade, stop coming out with those ridiculous ideas. We most certainly cannot have a party!" Constance said. Enid frowned. She didn't understand.
"Why can't we?" Mildred asked, "We are just as entitled to a party as all those other girls. And besides, you only get to become 14 once, or in your case twice.
"That's not the point Mildred Hubble! And besides, parties are ludicrous things!" Constance said.
"You've never had a party for any of your, how many birthdays, have you? I mean, you've definitely had more than 14," Enid mocked.
"39. This should have been my 40th." Constance said, "And you are right, for once, Enid Nightshade, I have never had a birthday party. My family were staunch traditionalists. Birthdays weren't a time for celebration, they were a time of reflection.
"Wow. Glad I never lived at the Hardbroom Household," Maud added.
"I know, I'll write to my mom. She bakes cakes," Mildred said, "I can smuggle it in; Broomhead'll never know."
"Mildred, you don't have a mother anymore. None of you girls do. Your parents weren't on the grounds. They have forgotten you. Cackle's Academy has been wiped from everyone's memory, no one apart from us remembers it," Constance said. Constance folded her arms and they were all transported back to the castle.