Neutral Magic
Disclaimer: I do not own the Worst Witch or Weirdsister College series or any characters associated with them. No money is being made from this story.
Chapter 4: The Worst Witch Returns
Constance Hardbroom sighed in exasperation as she inscribed yet another red cross against a paragraph in a Third Year Potions essay. This was not how she would have preferred to spend her Sunday afternoon but the marking needed to be done by tomorrow. She glanced at the name scribbled at the top of the paper and shook her head.
"Sylvia Hemlock!" She muttered under her breath. "Why do I not find that surprising?"
Sylvia was another of those girls who possessed ability but lacked application, spending far too much time talking and joking with her friends at the back of class to really concentrate on her lessons. Rather like Mildred Hubble, although not nearly as clumsy as her most notorious former pupil had been.
Constance couldn't help wondering anxiously if Mildred would reply to her letter soon, then quickly told herself to be patient. She had only posted the letter a couple of days ago. Mildred would probably not get it until tomorrow and her duties as a lecturer might prevent her responding during the week. It was quite possible she would not hear from Mildred until the following weekend.
Constance stiffened abruptly, sensing a massive disruption in the magical ether that she knew could only be caused by the sudden arrival of a magic user of great power. The magical signature moreover was one very familiar to her. There could be little doubt about the cause; Mildred had arrived!
Although she was immensely relieved that Mildred had responded to her appeal so quickly, Constance Hardbroom did not leave her work immediately. Characteristically she finished marking the essay, writing a D minus and the words 'very disappointing work, see me after class.'
Rising to her feet rather stiffly, she left the Potions Lab and made her way to the Staff Room. She couldn't help wondering what Mildred was like as an adult. Even in her final year at Cackles the girl had still been decidedly untidy, all messy pigtails and undone bootlaces. She wondered how much would have changed in eight years.
She received the answer to that on opening the Staff Room door. The young woman talking to Miss Cackle bore little resemblance to her childhood self. The messy pigtails were long gone and her hair was now cut short and attractively styled. It actually looked lighter than Constance remembered, although she was uncertain if the change was natural.
But that was far from the only change. The untidy schoolgirl was no more and in her place was a sophisticated and rather glamorous young woman. In fact Miss Hardbroom thought Mildred's appearance altogether too frivolous for such a prestigious role as a college lecturer and mentally began compiling a list of faults. That skirt was too short, the top too low cut and revealing and those high heels were ridiculously impracticable. And the girl was certainly wearing far too much make up.
This catalogue of disapproval came to an abrupt halt, as Constance suddenly felt a little ashamed of herself. Mildred had come all this way to help her, responding far quicker than she had expected, and her first reaction was to mentally berate the girl over her appearance, which to be fair was really no different from that of many other young women her age.
"Constance!" Amelia Cackle exclaimed, her face beaming. "Look who it is! It's Mildred, all the way from Weirdsister College!"
"So I see!" Constance replied. "Hello Mildred."
"Miss Hardbroom." Mildred nodded at her former Potions teacher before turning back to the Headmistress.
"Actually Miss Cackle, it's Miss Hardbroom I really came to see."
"Really?" Amelia Cackle looked rather surprised. "Whatever for, dear?"
For a moment the Potions teacher was terrified that Mildred would reveal the condition she had been keeping secret these many months, but her fears proved unfounded.
"There's a personal matter I need to consult Miss Hardbroom about," Mildred said quickly. "If we could go somewhere private?"
"Of course!" Constance replied. "We can go to my room."
The two of them managed to get away from the Staff Room with the minimum of courtesies and headed towards the section of the castle where the teachers' rooms were located.
"I ought to thank you for your discretion with Miss Cackle, Mildred," the Potions teacher said as they made their way up a flight of stairs.
Mildred shrugged. "I didn't know if you'd told anyone else, so I thought it was better not to give any details."
Constance Hardbroom nodded. "I appreciate it."
They stopped in front of the door to her room and she opened it, gesturing Mildred to precede her inside.
Mildred looked around her curiously.
"I've never seen one the teachers' rooms before. This is just as austere as the student ones."
The Potions teacher chuckled. "Well what did you expect?"
"I'm not sure," Mildred admitted with a laugh. "I suppose we all just assumed the teachers were living in luxury compared to us!"
"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you!"
Mildred laughed again, but then cried out in alarm as Miss Hardbroom suddenly turned pale and staggered, almost falling over.
"Miss Hardbroom!" Rushing over to her, Mildred placed her arm around the older witch's waist and helped her over to the narrow bed. "You'd better sit down."
Thank you Mildred," Constance gasped. "The potion bottle and measuring cup on my dressing table, please!"
Mildred quickly fetched them and watched as the Potions teacher poured out a dose and swallowed it quickly. She shuddered at the taste, but her breathing seemed to ease and some colour started returning to her face.
Mildred gently took the bottle from her and sniffed the contents. Her eyebrows rose in surprise.
"The tincture!" She said quietly, and Miss Hardbroom nodded.
The tincture was a medieval discovery that was still the most powerful general healing remedy known to the potion maker's art. Mildred remembered first learning of it in a History of Magic lecture from Jonathan Shakeshaft in her first year at college. A couple of years later she had made it herself in a final year Potions practical. The fact that Miss Hardbroom was using it on a regular basis meant her condition must be very serious indeed.
"My healer recommended it," Constance explained. "She was unable to identify the curse that has been placed on me, only that it somehow involves negative magic and is feeding on my magic and life energy. The tincture was the only treatment she could suggest, although it's slowly losing its effectiveness."
"Who is your healer, if you don't mind my asking?"
"A Canadian by the name of Miss Crowfeather," Constance replied. "Rather young, about your age actually, but very capable and with an excellent reputation."
Mildred suddenly scowled. "Cas Crowfeather?"
"I believe her first name is Cassandra. You know her?"
"She was one of my dorm mates at college." Constance was astonished by the look of seething hatred on the younger witch's face. Mildred was usually so good-natured. "She used to be my best friend!"
"Used to be?"
"It's a long story." Mildred was obviously trying hard to control herself but Constance could see she was literally shaking with anger. "There's no point in going into that now. What exactly are your symptoms?"
Constance sighed. "General weakness and muscle pain with shortness of breath and sleeping poorly. But recently the drain on my energy has started to cause physical damage. I have coughed up blood on a number of occasions."
"I see." Mildred's expression was thoughtful. "Anything else?"
Constance considered telling her about the dreams and voices, but quickly decided against it and shook her head. She did not want her former pupil to doubt her sanity.
The younger witch gave her an odd look, as though she did not entirely believe the denial, but she did not press the issue.
"Well I think it's time I examined you myself."
Mildred raised her hand and a brown canvas bag materialised in it.
Miss Hardbroom smiled sardonically. "Is that your doctor's bag Mildred?"
The young witch chuckled. "I'm not actually a medical doctor you know, or a healer."
"No, but you are the world's foremost authority on negative magic."
Mildred shrugged. "Perhaps. I suppose that's why you contacted me?"
Constance nodded, watching intently as Mildred took out something that looked rather like the brass eyepiece of an old fashioned telescope, although it had magical symbols engraved on the rim. She held it up to one eye, studying the older witch for a few minutes.
"Well this curse definitely involves negative magic," she confirmed at last. "But it's not purely negative, there are positive magical components as well. I've never actually seen a curse like this before. I can't imagine who could be behind it."
"I suspect Hecketty Broomhead," Constance said darkly. "Who else would want to curse me?"
Mildred looked very dubious at that suggestion.
"Broomhead might have a motive," she admitted. "But I rather doubt she would have the ability to cast a curse like this. I'm not sure who would, to be honest. But the priority at the moment to find a way to break this curse and to do that I need a more exact analysis."
Reaching into her bag she drew out a large crystal that glowed with a soft white light and was roughly icosohedral in shape.
"Here, hold this." She placed the crystal in the older witch's hands.
"What is it?" Constance asked nervously.
"A recording crystal," Mildred explained. "It will take an impression of the curse's magical characteristics, allowing me to make a mathematical analysis."
Extending her hand over the crystal, Mildred intoned a spell.
"Enchantus simulacrum duplicare!"
The crystal glowed more intensely and Constance felt an odd tingling, as though electric currents were flowing through her body. It was a peculiar sensation although not really unpleasant.
After a few seconds the odd sensation stopped and the glow diminished. Mildred took the crystal and replaced it in her bag, which she dematerialised with a wave of her hand.
"That should do it. Now I just have to analyse the results."
"And how long will that take?" Constance asked anxiously.
Mildred shrugged. "It may take a while, it can be quite involved."
She launched into a complicated technical explanation that left Constance utterly baffled. She caught various phrases such as 'calculating thaumaturgic resonance potentials' and 'determining the eigenvalues of the Foster correlation matrix' whose meaning she could vaguely guess at, but most of the explanation was completely over her head.
There was a mischievous glint in Mildred's eyes and Constance suddenly realised this was revenge for all those times in Potions class when her own explanations had been less than straightforward. She regretted it now but sometimes she had been so exasperated by the girl's lack of confidence and tendency to be distracted that she had deliberately over-complicated things. Well, the shoe was definitely on the other foot now.
"So I guess it will take two or three days," Mildred concluded. "But first I'd like a word with your healer, if you don't object."
"No, I have no objection to that," the Potions teacher replied. "But I rather gathered that you and Miss Crowfeather are no longer on good terms."
"You let me worry about that!" Mildred said grimly. "I'll be in touch again as soon as possible, Miss Hardbroom."
With those words, Mildred folded her arms and vanished in a flicker of light.
Constance put her feet up on the bed and leaned back, closing her eyes. She might as well try to get a little rest if she could, before returning to her marking.
It seemed she must once again resign herself to waiting.