I don't own The Worst Witch :) xx
Hecate knocked on Mildred's bedroom door and waited. After a thud, a yelp and a meow which Hecate assumed was the sound of the girl falling out of bed and landing on her cat, a messy looking Mildred opened the door, looking shocked to see her teacher.
Good Morning Mildred, she said as she strode in.
"Good Morning Miss Hardbroom. I'm sorry I overslept. I won't do it again. I…"
"Do be quiet, Mildred, you have not overslept, it is 4:45am".
"Oh" said Mildred looking confused. Through sleepy eyes, she took in her aunt's perfectly pressed black dress and neatly scraped bun with not a single hair out of place and wondered how early the woman woke up each morning. She realised that when they'd been at the cottage, she'd never made it downstairs earlier than her aunt. She wondered whether, she ever slept at all.
"Mildred, I have read through the Test of Magical Ability and, while there are some parts of it that I am not overly concerned about, there are other sections that I feel we need to start work on as soon as possible".
"It's just that I'm still asleep", yawned the girl.
"Nonsense, Mildred. Get washed and dressed as quickly as you can and go directly to my office. I'll make you something for breakfast then we'll get started", she commanded, and vanished in a black mist. Mildred flopped back onto her bed and closed her eyes, slipping back into unconsciousness, when her aunt's disembodied voice reverberated around the attic room, "Do not go back to sleep!" Mildred shot up at once and began to get herself ready in a daze.
"You took your time", Miss Hardbroom said as Mildred walked into her office 15 minutes after she'd woken the girl up. "It's better we have our lessons before school rather than after, so you are feeling more awake".
"Yes. Miss Hardbroom", came the automatic reply despite having rarely felt less awake than she did at that moment.
After a satisfying breakfast of porridge with jam and some fruit, Mildred felt better.
"Will we be meeting here at five every morning until the test?" Mildred knew what the answer would likely be, but she was clinging to the faintest possible hope that she would have any sort of lie in during the next three weeks.
"Yes, including the weekends, unless you wish to start earlier"
"No, no five o'clock is grand!" She gave her aunt a slightly crazed smiled.
Without any warning, Hecate transferred both of them to the potions laboratory.
"Now", she began as though they had not just transported halfway across the castle, "For today, and until you achieve a satisfactory command of the spell, you will practise changing this mouse…" she looked towards the tiny white rodent in a cage behind her as it disappeared and reappeared half a second later on the table in front of them, "into a frog".
"Last time I…."
"Yes, I remember, however, unlike Ethel Hallow, I am well prepared with protective spells. It is not that I do not trust you, I just thought you would be less worried if you were sure you couldn't turn me into a pig or anything else for that matter."
Mildred seemed to accept this, and Hecate thought how proud Pippa would be of her and her newly found tact.
Mildred cleared her throat and began.
"Rodent cast away your soft white coat
I command you learn to jump and croak
No teeth so sharp nor tail so long
Instead, webbed feet and sticky tongue
As day is long, you'll jump and catch
And feast on flies and swim and splash
On lily pads, in pond and bog
No more a mouse, but now a frog!"
At first nothing happened. Then the mouse's fur began to turn green and the little thing began jumping around on the table making a sort of squeaky ribbit sound. Hecate was silent, her face was a mixture of intrigue and bewilderment, after a moment she regained the power of speech.
"Well, Mildred, you have succeeded in making the mouse believe he is a frog…I suppose that's a start."
"You don't have to be kind, it's useless"
"I don't know, this mouse could now have a glittering career on the stage playing all manner of amphibians"
"Toad of Toad Hall?"
The two witches laughed. With a wave of her long fingers, Hecate returned the rodent to its right mind and colour. "Shall we try again?"
The results of the next few attempts were mixed. Mildred gave the mouse a long sticky tongue, webbed feet and on one occasion, even frogs' legs but never a complete animal transformation. Soon enough the rising bell rang. 7 am already.
Well done, Mildred, you are improving. We'll do the same tomorrow.
Her aunt's kind words had made Mildred feel proud and desperate to perfect the spell, and so, at 04:45 the next morning, Mildred bounced out of bed, got dressed and ran through the silent corridors to Hecate's office.
"I'm impressed" said Hecate as she let Mildred in.
After breakfast they transferred to the potions laboratory. With a wave of her hand, Hecate unlocked the cage and guided the little mouse through the air and landed it gently on to her desk.
"Frog" she commanded, rolling the 'r' sound.
After several attempts, each one resulting in a little more success, Mildred finally achieved a full frog transformation. The look on the girl's face was priceless as she flung her arms around her aunt.
"Well, done", Hecate smiled as she looked at her timepiece, "And it is only a quarter to six".
"May I go now, Miss Hardbroom?"
"Certainly not, you have managed one satisfactory transformation spell, you will need to practice this every day until the test, and there are other things we need to prepare you for that we haven't started on yet".
Mildred looked deflated but she gave her aunt a resigned nod.
"Now, you may or may not know that witches' magic is often categorised into magical types."
Mildred gave a look indicating that this, like so many other things, was new information for her.
"It doesn't matter very much anymore. Nowadays, witches attend academies like this one, where witches from all different traditions come and learn together, resulting in a witching population with eclectic magic, that is, they have learned to embrace and use all types of magic. However, many years ago, witches learned only from their mothers and grandmothers. They could only use the magic their families were experts in, for example, the magic relating to herbs or animals or hearth magic that relates to cooking and the home. There is an accepted theory that novice witches find the spells that their ancestors have used for generations far easier than other types of witchcraft. I see this phenomenon in my students all the time, but when they leave after their fifth year, they are all capable of using different magic with more or less equal results".
She began to pace around the desk, her hands in front of her with her fingertips pressed together. "Your family, the Allards, are associated with different types of magic that cross category boundaries. However, they are first and foremost, Green Witches, that used to draw their power from trees and vegetation. Their magic was originally best suited to tend to flora. During the test, you will be asked to demonstrate magic that ought to come easily to you. You will be asked to grow or shrink a flower by a specified measurement. It is not a difficult spell for a witch of your age, any one of your classmates should be able to achieve at least some change in the flower's size, but because you are an Allard, it should be even easier for you.
Hecate conjured a pot plant with yellow flowers on the desk in front of Mildred.
"Please make this plant grow three inches" she commanded firmly. "You should be able to perform this spell without an incantation, however, you may try a verbal spell first". She placed a spell-book in front of the girl already open at the correct page.
Mildred took a deep breath, cast the spell and moved her fingers over the plant.
Nothing happened.
"I'm sorry, I…"
Hecate held up her hand. "That's odd", she had expected the result to be imprecise in measurement and she had doubted the girl's magic would be strong enough for the enchantment to sustain itself for a required period of time, and she had truly worried about how long it would take Mildred to iron out these issues, but she had not expected no affect.
"Like this, Mildred" She said kindly as she moved her long pale hand, palm upwards, over the plant, which immediately grew by what Mildred had no doubt was exactly three inches."
The girl tried again and again, but still nothing happened. Mildred was getting tired.
"Have you been practicing your meditation?" The girl nodded truthfully, "and the exercises with the bubbles", Mildred nodded slightly less truthfully.
"Sit outside in the corridor for a few moments where it is cooler. Meditate, and come back and try again". The girl gratefully did as she was told.
After about ten minutes Mildred returned much more relaxed, she breathed deeply and could feel her magic tingling through her body, she felt powerful as she recited the incantation feeling sure that this time, she would get it right. She waited. After a moment, the plant exploded sending soil and yellow petals everywhere.
Exhausted she begged, "please may I stop for today?"
"No, you may not! The older witch shouted back, "This is not a difficult spell for anyone, and you are an Allard witch, you should find this easier than I do. Are you even trying?"
"Yes, Miss Hardbroom, but I can't do it. And now I'm too tired. This is the second day I've woken up before 5 o'clock in the morning", her voice broke into tears, but she continued. "It's not fair, magic just comes easily to you, you're the one who doesn't try…because you don't have to". Just then the rising bell echoed through the academy.
"Go now, Mildred. Report to me after school" the woman said coldly.
The girl ran out as fast as she could.
"The foolish girl", Hecate said to herself as she cut the herbs and prepared the cauldrons for year 4, thinking about what Mildred had said. You don't have to try. Magic comes easily to you. It was true. Even new and difficult spells of her own creating were easy for her, but it hadn't always been that way. There had been a time when she thought her magic wasn't good enough. She chopped the herbs and plants with less of her usual precision and concentration and as the little knife sliced through the pond weed, it caught her finger. She watched as crimson blood appeared on her fingertip, she pushed down either side of the cut with her two thumbs and watched as more blood oozed out. A voice from long ago came to her.
"What will people think when they discover that my daughter, who possesses the same magic as I do, the magic that ran through the veins of three English queens, is such a poor and weak excuse for a witch? You are not trying….. you foolish girl!" The woman was kneeling down on the grass next to a rosebush. She wore a tight-fitting crimson blouse, a long, black, A line skirt and a tall, back pointed hat. Her pale face with its strong, striking features was merely inches away from the even paler face of a little girl who was standing in front of her.
"I am trying mother, I am!" said the seven-year-old with black wavy hair, only the ends of it visible from under her dark grey felt hat which was tied under her chin with a black ribbon, the hat's point was folded to one side and from it, a little half-moon charm hung. Her grey tights were wrinkled just above the top of her black laced boots because her too-thin legs didn't fill them out. She wore a cotton dress in a paler shade of grey. With beautiful brown doe-eyes that were red rimmed because she was so tired, she looked pleadingly at the woman. She had been in her mother's garden for hours on the hot midsummer evening. And it was well past her usual bedtime.
"Can I go to bed now?"
"Bed? Her mother thundered you will not go to bed until you have mastered this simple spell.
Once again, her mother waved her hand, palm upwards over one of the half-dead roses which revived immediately under her spell. She made it look easy. The tall, slim woman brought herself up to her full height, towering above her daughter, so that the girl could see that the underside of the wide brim of her mother's black hat was lined in crimson silk to match her blouse, her lipstick and even the roses.
"If you cannot perform a simple spell like this, you are a disgrace to my noble family, and I shall be ashamed of you". Bring the rose to life. Now!"
The little girl stood as tall as she could, closed her eyes and breathed slowly, letting out long strands of air through her barely open mouth. She could feel magic tingling through her body, from her feet inside her laced boots, to her fingertips as she stretched out her hands, palms facing upwards as her mother had shown her. She summoned all the magic she had left in her small body. The temperature dropped and she felt her loose hair flap behind her. After a moment or two, she felt a couple of large heavy drops of rain fall onto her hat. They were the first drops of rain to have fallen in weeks, and very soon, it was pouring down. She opened her eyes and watched in astonishment as the drooped sad looking flower slowly rose her head, her dry brown petals turned back to their regal crimson as the bloom stood up straight and tall. Exhausted, the child looked at her mother expecting to see some expression of pride, or at least an encouraging smile, but instead the woman's cold, dark, piercing gaze burned into her, a gaze that could almost kill. Hecate had not known then what she had done, or its significance. All she knew was that her mother had refused to teach her any magic from that day onwards, but Regina had never again told her that her magic was weak.