Chapter 23
April 1985
It was about 2 weeks after her presentation to the chief wizard and witching council when Constance received the letter. Her frequent letters from Roberta and Celeste and the many practical tasks delegated to her by Mistress Broomhead made her well known to the college porter. He had called out to her as she crossed the quad that Saturday morning and placed a heavy envelope of cream parchment into her hand. Constance only had time to thank him and take in the official looking stamp and seal before a glow of heat in her silver bracelet distracted her. She hastily pushed the letter into her pocket before transporting herself from the quad to Mistress Broomhead's office.
It was many hours later when Constance remembered the letter. She was sat alone at the small desk she had in the corner of Mistress Broomhead's office. She had endured a long morning of responding to Mistress Broomhead's routine correspondence, penning covering letters to editors and creating tables out of the data from Mistress Broomhead's latest experiments. Her current task for the afternoon was transcribing a thick pile of notes for a new manuscript which Mistress Broomhead had scrawled hastily and, in some cases, almost illegibly. After a few moments trying to decipher a particularly unintelligible word, Constance took a moment away from staring at the page, yawning and stretching in her seat. The movement caused the parchment envelope in her pocket to make a crinkling sound, loud in the quiet office, and Constance remembered the hastily secreted letter.
She pulled the envelope out of her skirt pocket, now a little worse for wear, and once again took in the official looking stamp and seal, and elegantly inked name and address. She took a letter opener from the desk and slit through the thick envelope before retrieving the heavy parchment inside
Dear Miss Constance Hardbroom, the letter read
I am writing to you on behalf of the research department of the chief wizard. The wizard's office and witching council were most impressed by your recent presentation on your research on co-apparition. It is our understanding that you are due to complete your postgraduate studies at the end of this term. We would therefore like to consider you for a research fellowship in the chief wizard's office, beginning in September. We ask that you give this offer your consideration, and if you would like to accept, then please contact my office at your earliest convenience to arrange a formal interview. In the meantime, if you would like to discuss this proposal further please do not hesitate to contact me.
Yours
Mistress Morgause Chant
Head of the wizarding and witching department of research
Constance reread the letter slowly, allowing the words to sink in. She felt a little shaken. The question of what she would do when she left the college had never really been considered by her or her tutor. It had always seemed an unspoken agreement that she never actually would leave the college. Her future had been described to her by the dean in that notorious meeting at the end of her third year and no one had ever discussed it again. She would complete her postgraduate studies, move on to the doctoral scholarship, tutor and teach and then become a member of staff. In short, she would never leave Mistress Broomhead's regime. But now a new option was being presented to her, the prospect was both enticing and overwhelming.
Constance was jerked from her reverie by a sudden fast movement in the corner of the room. Before she had time to turn her head, Mistress Broomhead's cat, Hemlock had leapt up on to the small desk, glaring at Constance with her gleaming yellow eyes. Constance started in alarm and as she did, her angular elbow caught against the pot of deep black ink she had been using to write. The ink well cascaded over onto the desk, splattering dark splotches of ink across the letter and Mistress Broomhead's notes. Constance swore silently. Hemlock's arrival usually meant Mistress Broomhead was not far behind and so she needed to deal with this mess quickly. She used a hasty drying spell to get the worst of the ink from her letter. Folding the ruined document back into its envelope, she stored it back in her pocket to deal with later. Then she began the more pressing task of dealing with Mistress Broomhead's papers. She cast a spell to carefully siphon the black ink off the documents. The dark splotches gradually rose from the papers like a back mist and, under the guidance of Constance's hand, swirled towards the ink well, returning to liquid as the mist reached the neck of the bottle.
Constance was nearly done with the spell when her attention was once more drawn to Hemlock. The cat had risen on its haunches, ready to spring from the desk. Constance knew from experience, that the cat was planning to fetch Mistress Broomhead and draw her notice to Constance's latest misdeed. Hoping to delay Hemlock until her task was done, she put out her hand to her. It was only when her hand pressed against the cat's smooth black fur that she realised her mistake. The last of the inky black mist had not quite returned to the ink well and so it followed the movement of Constance's hand and settled on the cat's coat beneath her palm.
One moment, Constance was staring into the disdainful yellow eyes of Hemlock, the next her hand slammed onto the paper covered surface of the desk as the cat suddenly disappeared from beneath her palm. Constance removed her hand from the desk quickly, scanning the room for signs of the cat. She ordered herself to think, what could a little ink from a siphoning spell possibly have done to Hemlock. Her answer came when she spotted a small flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Looking back down at the papers, she saw that in the margin of one page there was now a small blob of ink moving rapidly. On closer inspection, the moving ink was clearly in the shape of a small black cat, prowling the page with its back arched in fury. Constance knew that if she had been able to hear it, the cat would most certainly have been hissing.
Constance looked down at it in dismay, her keen brain told her that she would probably be able to resolve this accidental magic. But it also told her the most likely solution would be a potion, and this was not something she could produce instantly. She folded the down the corner of the piece of paper, careful to avoid the still prowling ink-Hemlock, and then placed the page somewhere in the middle of the pile of Mistress Broomhead's notes. She then used a quick scouring spell to get any traces of ink from the desk surface and tidied the remaining paperwork. She had just got everything into place when Mistress Broomhead appeared at her desk.
"Good to see you hard at work Constance" said Mistress Broomhead sardonically, as her gaze took in Constance's freshly cleared desk. "Where is Hemlock? I sent her ahead"
"Yes" Constance replied quickly "She was here, but then she left. Presumably to fetch you"
"Why would she need to fetch me?" Mistress Broomhead asked, fixing Constance with her characteristic steely glare
"Oh, no reason" Constance tried to keep her voice light and an even "I think I was just a bit boring for her"
"Hmm" Mistress Broomhead replied, Constance couldn't tell if she was suspicious of her answer or simply agreeing that Constance would be a boring companion even for a cat. "How far did you get with the notes for my latest manuscript?"
"I'm about halfway through Mistress Broomhead"
"Your rate of progress never fails to disappoint, Constance" Mistress Broomhead admonished "You will have to continue tomorrow, I have some potential collaborators visiting this evening and so I won't need you again until the morning. Here is your sleeping draft, I trust you can manage to take it without my supervision. Needless to say, I will know if you have not done so"
Mistress Broomhead let the threat of these words go unspoken. Constance nodded and rose to her feet, surprised by this sudden reprieve. She was just pushing her chair neatly under the desk when Mistress Broomhead spoke again
"Wait" Constance turned around to face her tutor as she spoke, a slight tingle of alarm in her chest at the thought of being discovered "Are you simply going to leave those papers out for everyone to see? Have I not just told you that I am being visited by some potential collaborators? Potential collaborators are also potential competitors, and I do not appreciate having my ideas carelessly left on your desk for anyone to read. Hand them to me"
Mistress Broomhead held out her hand and Constance passed across the pile of notes with a slightly trembling grip. She watched in slight panic as Mistress Broomhead unknowingly locked her own cat away in her desk draw.
"Was there something else Constance?" Mistress Broomhead asked sharply
"No Mistress Broomhead. Good evening" Constance replied as she followed the direction of Mistresses Broomhead's dismissively waved hand out of the door.
The door closed behind her and Constance stood alone in the corridor. The spring sun had not quite set, and its low rays were illuminating the corridor in a gentle golden light. For a moment, Constance revelled in this rare, golden Saturday evening of freedom. Then she remembered she had to find a potion to turn a blot of ink back into a cat again and, with a sigh, made her way towards her potions classroom.