I don't own The Worst Witch :)
I hope you are enjoying my story xx
Mildred had spent more time in the library in the past week than she'd spent there in the two and a bit terms she'd been at Cackle's. She so wanted to do better. She longed for more witching knowledge like someone possessed. Jacqueline Allard was not going to beat her. She was sitting with Maud and Enid with piles of books on the table and working on an essay about the persecution of witches in England in the seventeenth century.
"So, when they were ducked under water, why couldn't they just transfer away?"
Ethel walked past just in time to hear Mildred's question and snorted, "What an idiot! No one can transfer through water. I thought everyone knew that".
Maud rolled her eyes at the blond girl as she walked away with her ponytail swishing behind her.
"There's no reason why you would have known that, Millie, but it's true. Only the most powerful witches can use transference spells in the first place, they're difficult to achieve and they use a ton of magic. It's also just a fact that no one can transfer through water. Witches don't do well with water."
Together they made a good start on researching for their essays and after a while Enid and Maud wanted to finish for the evening.
"We'll do a bit more tomorrow", said Enid yawning and stretching her arms over her head.
"Okay, but I'm going to stay a bit longer"
"Erm...didn't you promise HB you'd go to bed early every night until the test?" said Maud.
I won't stay long. Goodnight!"
As well as her essay for History of Witchcraft, she'd been studying for the end of year exams, practising her animal transformation spell and the Green Magic, but on top of that she was trying to understand the intricacies of magical family hierarchy. If she was going to have to fight to keep her inheritance, she'd need to have a proper grasp of what it means to be Head Witch Allard. She scanned the titles in the magical history section. There was nothing about French magical history so there would be nothing about the Allards. Her eyes fell on the huge tome that she'd heaved down when she'd first come to Cackle's hoping to find some mention of the Hubble family. If she'd read it in any detail, she may have gleaned something about how magical families worked. She climbed just one rung on the ladder to reach The History of Magical Families in Britain and almost fell off when she pulled the heavy book off the shelf. She dropped it onto the nearest table with a sigh of relief and dropped herself into a chair. She opened the book at no particular place, but magical books have memories and it recognised Mildred when she touched it. It opened at the H's where she had previously been searching. Most names just appeared in an endless list, whereas others, such as the Hallows, had pages dedicated to their history. She skimmed these chapters of various important families. Some were interesting because Mildred soon learned that witches and wizards used to live among non-magical people often marrying into wealthy non-magical families. Families like the Hailstone's, Mildred learned, had been extremely wealthy and powerful but over time, they had lost their fortune but remained highly respected families. Mildred smiled as she remembered Sapphire Hailstone, the sweet natured Pentangle's girl from the spelling bee. Mildred was learning a lot as she read through these histories. Apparently, different witching families were known for varying degrees of "Power" which sometimes related to their wealth or political clout but could also mean superior strength of magic, that said, the one usually implied the other. She also learned that some families seem to have particular magical abilities or "gifts" that other witches rarely have. This could be anything from mind-reading, fortune telling or even a particular gift for controlling the weather, but not like a weather spell - any witch could do that, even Mildred. A weather spell such as a magical storm, was just an illusion and would never affect the non-magical world. However, 'Weather Witches' as they were known could truly alter the weather to the extent that invading foreign fleets could land on English shores or else be whipped up in a tempest and sink. Now Mildred began to understand why powerful mages climbed the ranks of the English courts and became so wealthy. "So much for the Witches' Code Section Twelve which says you must never use your power for personal gain", Mildred whispered under her breath and smiled as she thought how Hecate would be proud of her for knowing that. She read on learning a little more about what her aunt had told her during their last lesson, that witching families were broadly placed into categories according to what type of magic they were associated with. For example; Green Witches who drew their magic from nature; Divination Witches who had gifts in seeing the future or, Weather Witches who were associated with lunar magic and sea storms, to name but a few. However, it didn't always follow that because a family belonged to a certain category of witchcraft, a witch would have a particular gift. Perhaps that's why I couldn't make the plant grow, she thought. There were certain types of extremely powerful magic that were notoriously rare because daughters often did not inherit it, although Green Magic did not appear to be among these. Weather Magic, however, was so rare it was thought to have long since died out. The Hailstone's had been Weather Witches many years ago but now that particular gift was thought to be extinct, there had not been a single Weather Witch on record anywhere in the witching world for generations.
Many family histories ended tragically in the seventeenth century when spates of witch-trails and executions swept through Scotland and England sometimes wiping out entire families. It was then that the magical and non-magical worlds separated forever. For their own safety, most witches and wizards went into hiding, placing powerful protection and invisibility spells on themselves and their homes.
She flicked through endless names and was getting a little tired, and as Mildred looked around, she saw that the library was now deserted, and she wondered if she'd been so engrossed in the book that she hadn't heard the curfew bell. But just as she was about to close the book and go to bed, she came across another, clearly important family who had a whole chapter dedicated to them. Intrigued, Mildred began to read about the Howards. A recent memory flicked into her mind. My mother was Regina Howard. As she was not going to inherit her family's title, she took my father's name at their wedding and became Lady Hardbroom.
The Howards were another witching family who had lost much of their fortune over time. It seemed they were a particularly rotten lot who used their magic for dubious purposes resulting in considerable personal gain. Howard magic was truly terrific, as many of them were documented to have possessed weather- changing ability, not to mention, some of them had sensory powers and could hear or sense things from far away. She thought of how her aunt materialised in her black mist whenever there was an issue in any class. She was sure Hecate had this sensory magic. She read on.
In around 1450, the family almost tore itself apart when the young Lady Elizabeth Howard, having only recently inherited her mother's grimoire, ran away and married a non-magical merchant who, although wealthy, was not aristocratic like the noble Howards. Elizabeth relinquished the grimoire in favour of her younger sister so she could marry and take the name of the man she loved. "How romantic!" Mildred thought. She liked this woman, she thought as she made a note that a Head Witch cannot marry a non-magical man. She read on, learning that Elizabeth and Thomas Bullen had had children and their daughter, Lady Anne, was a suspected witch throughout her three-years long …... Mildred turned the page…...reign.
"Reign?" She said out loud. She reread the paragraph and her eyes widened.
Mildred got up from her seat and walked to the end of the history aisle where she remembered there hung a portrait that she knew well. A poster version of it had been blue-tacked on the wall of her non-magical primary school classroom.
She walked towards the portrait of a woman, sealed behind glass in a large brass frame. It was an eerie sight in the lonely and poorly lit library when almost everybody would be in the castle turrets getting ready for bed. The subject's face stared back at her with eyes that were cold and black, her mouth in a tight, confident smile. Her black hair taken back into a headdress revealing a high forehead and a long neck. Her black gown was cut in a deep square contrasting against her white skin. The pearl necklace she wore proudly displaying her father's initial was so much a part of her. This woman was so sure of herself; this was a woman who knew exactly who she was. Mildred read the Latin words above the woman's head.
'ANNA BOLINA VTOR HENRI OCTA' Anne Boleyn, wife of Henry VIII. Just then a spark reflected off the glass. The tall black silhouette of Miss Hardbroom had materialised somewhere behind her. Mildred stared into the newly appeared reflection. Almost five hundred years and those dark Howard Witches' eyes are still icily burning into souls and unnerving fools. Her Aunt raised her hand and transferred Mildred to her room, but not before the girl noticed another face reflected in the glass. For just an instant, she looked into her own dark eyes.