Chapter Twenty-Five
Miss Hardbroom stayed at Mildred's bedside over the next few days, obsessively monitoring her recovery. Pippa had to order her away every so often and demand that she take care of her own needs for a little while.
"The child is not going to burst into flame if you leave her with me for a few hours," Pippa would chide.
Mildred spent most of her recovery asleep, but not entirely by choice. She would wake up and groggily whine about being a prisoner and wanting to be let out of this bed and this room. When she actually tried to make an escape Hecate would grab her hand before she could snap her fingers and transport. She would touch her long fingers to Mildred's forehead and spell her back to sleep.
Tabby stayed close by. He would sometimes lick Mildred's forehead, and would often curl up by her side or between her legs. Even in sleep, Mildred sensed the warmth of his presence. Sometimes she would wrap her arms around him and he would meow, startled, then lick her wrist with firm, comforting strokes.
"Magical sleep is the best kind of rest for healing," Hecate would often tell Pippa.
Pippa would look at her doubtfully. "Well, I'm glad you are now an expert at healing little witches. I'm sure Mildred can use all of the help she can get."
"I spoke with a healer," Miss Hardbroom said crisply. "She said she would only need to see Mildred if her symptoms worsened."
Pippa smiled. Hecate was very possessive, and didn't want someone else fixing Mildred if she could avoid it. Mildred was now hers to fix.
On the fourth day of her sentence, Mildred woke to Miss Hardbroom's fingers massaging her forehead.
"How does your head feel, Millie?" Miss Hardbroom asked.
"Much better!" Mildred sat up and smiled.
Miss Hardbroom narrowed her eyes. "Are you lying to me?"
Mildred lost her smile. "Uh, no, no Miss Hardbroom. I really am feeling better. Oh, please don't spell me to sleep again! I've been having this recurring dream about a monkey chasing me around, demanding I give him chocolate candy, but I just don't have any chocolate Miss Hardbroom!"
Miss Hardbroom sighed. "I'm not going to spell you. You've been spelled for long enough. It's time for you to start doing simple tasks, and see you how you feel."
"Simple tasks?" Mildred already knew where this was heading.
"Yes. You'll be organizing potions ingredients today. That way I can test your memory, see if there's anything missing that shouldn't be."
"Miss Hardbroom, you know that um, I'm not the best at identifying potions ingredients on a regular day, right?"
"Well, then now's the perfect time for you to review them."
"Can I use magic?"
"No."
"None at all?"
"Not over the next few days. Magical injuries are tricky. After you've been on your feet for a few days I'll have you test out your magic under my supervision. If there's anything wrong we'll have to take you to a healer."
"Do you really think it's that serious?"
"I'm not sure. I would hope that it is not. Pippa and I seemed to be just fine, but we are older, and so your magic had less of an affect. I haven't found anything particularly concerning, but if there's something I've missed, it's bound to appear when you do magic."
Pippa appeared in the room. "The little witch is awake!"
"Pippa!" Mildred smiled happily. "Save me from Miss Hardbroom, please! She's going to make me sort potions ingredients!"
"Is she now?" Pippa looked at Hecate. "You couldn't have her do something a bit more fun?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Miss Hardbroom sniffed. "When I was a young witch, I would have been happy to do any activity that would advance my knowledge in some way. Especially my knowledge of potions—or in an area where I was lacking knowledge."
"You never lacked very much knowledge, Hiccup," Pippa said lightly, ignoring the implication that Mildred lacked knowledge in potions.
"Can I cook with Pippa instead?" Mildred asked. "I mean, Miss Pentangle."
"You can cook with Miss Pentangle after you sort potions ingredients," Miss Hardbroom said.
Miss Hardbroom went into full-on teacher mode as Mildred sorted ingredients. She paced around the classroom and glanced at Mildred's work every so often. "Remember to strip the nettles of all of their spikes before combining them with the mangrove's leaves."
"Miss Hardbroom," Mildred complained. "I think my headache is coming back."
Miss Hardbroom stopped in front of her and placed a cold hand on her forehead. Mildred felt magic reaching out and probing her, firm yet also soothing. "You appear to be fine. Return to your work please."
Mildred groaned and continued sorting.
"Mildred, this really should not be so unbearable," Miss Hardbroom scolded with a flutter of something between exasperation and desperation in her voice. "Magic is built off of ordinary things coming together to create something extraordinary. These little plants must be woven together in precisely the right way, and to do this, you must know them, Mildred Hubble. Details matter, when it comes to magic."
"I'm sorry, Miss Hardbroom." Mildred said. "I know I shouldn't complain. I just feel like I'll never be good at potions. I try really hard, but I always miss something, and then everything goes wrong."
"Well, the more you practice paying attention to detail the less likely you are to make one of your..." Miss Hardbroom struggled to find a way to soften what she was going to say next, but, per usual, landed on honesty "simple yet disastrous mistakes."
"My class goal for next year is to not blow up the potions lab, not even once!" Mildred said cheerfully.
"That is quite ambitious of you."
Mildred rubbed sandpaper against the nettle leaves, wincing when she accidentally got nettle spikes in her fingers.
"Be careful!" Miss Hardbroom waved her hand and gloves appeared. "Here," she said, handing them to Mildred, "wear these."
"Thank you, Miss Hardbroom," Mildred said. She put the two fingers into her mouth, trying to reduce the stinging.
Miss Hardbroom sighed. "Let me see."
Mildred held out her hand and Miss Hardbroom waved her own. The sting disappeared.
"Thanks," Mildred said glumly, putting on the gloves. She rubbed at the nettle leaves in frustration. Stray hair from her braids got in her eyes and she blew at it. She wiped at her face to brush the hair away then yelped and jumped back, remembering the gloves had nettle spikes on them.
Miss Hardbroom gave her a stern look.
"Sorry," Mildred said. "I wasn't thinking."
Miss Hardbroom waved her hand and the pain left Mildred's face.
"Maybe," Miss Hardbroom said, looking down at her timepiece. "Nettles wasn't the best idea. Come, why don't you do something that won't end in more injuries."
Mildred huffed and put the gloves down on the table. Her shoulders slumped as Miss Hardbroom guided her out of the room.
"Stop that," Miss Hardbroom said.
"What?" Mildred's face was sulky as she looked at her.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself."
"I can't do anything right!" Mildred said, stomping her foot without meaning to.
Miss Hardbroom turned and bent so that her face was eye level with her daughter's. "Recovery from magical injuries is not easy. Pouting and feeling sorry for yourself does not help."
Mildred folded her arms. "I hurt you. And Pippa. And there was nothing I could do...I thought you were dead." Tears brimmed in Mildred's eyes. "I mess everything up. I hurt everyone who's around me."
"I pushed you too hard—"
"No you didn't! I should have been able to handle it." Mildred sobbed and put her face in her hands.
Miss Hardbroom straightened up, unsure of what to do. She rubbed circles on Mildred's back, barely aware of her movements. Comforting Mildred had become automatic, the same way that protecting her students was something she automatically did. Right now she wanted to put Mildred back to sleep, heal her physical wounds. But Mildred's hysterics were not just a result of her condition. It was bottled up emotions that her condition was helping to bring out. If they weren't dealt with, they would only continue to torment her.
Miss Hardbroom felt very cold.
"Mildred, listen. Listen to me," she pried the girl's hands away from her face. She rubbed her thumb soothingly over the backs of Mildred's hands.
Mildred opened her eyes and blinked at her, tears still streaming.
"You feel awful right now because you have been in magical sleep for a long time and because you have a magical injury. You also feel that you don't belong here."
Mildred's crying had quieted as she listened and now lurched to a stop.
Miss Hardbroom hoped that in her state, simple words would be the best comfort. "Mildred, you do belong here."
She pulled her daughter into a hug and Mildred held on tightly. Mildred's brain was overwhelmed with comfort and the words seemed to travel through her brain like warm blood that was soon carried all over her body.
"I love you," Mildred said. "I'm so glad you're not dead."
Miss Hardbroom stiffened then was able to relax. "I love you to, Mildred. Pippa and I are very grateful that you are alive."
Author's Note: I'm so sorry it has been so so long since I have updated this! I had planned on finishing this before the summer was over! I had a death in the family. I haven't been able to work on this story until now because I had originally written it in some of the last months that they were alive. I miss them.