Happy Halloween.
I don't own the Worst Witch, just this story and the idea though I can see it happening sometimes.
Enjoy.
The Revelations of the EXPELLED.
Ignoring the witch's question, Mildred stepped into the flat. "Who are you? Did Ada Cackle send you here? I thought I'd made it clear I wanted nothing to do with the witching world any longer."
The other woman blinked. "Cackle? I know of the family, but I've never met any of them."
Mildred wasn't sure if she should believe this woman, but there was definitely something sincere about her manner. Strangely enough, the longer she listened to this woman speaking and spent a little more time in her general company, Mildred couldn't help but feel strangely comfortable with her being in the flat.
It shouldn't have been possible, but somehow Mildred had the same general feeling of comfort she got whenever she was in the presence of either her grandmother, her aunt, or even her mother. She was uncertain how it was possible because she had never met this woman before. And then she remembered what the witch had said about descendants, but she decided to get a few more answers from this woman and eventually turn the conversation onto that particular point.
Mildred had watched dozens of detective dramas along the way. She had seen how police officers in those shows began their interviews, cleverly manipulating and twisting the interview to reach the points they wanted to reach while opening newer possibilities. She wasn't naive. She knew there were exaggerations or blatant lies in every drama, but she knew there were several seeds of truth in some of the more realistic dramas out there.
Pushing those thoughts to one side, Mildred stepped closer. "What do you know about the Cackles?" she asked curiously.
"Only that they are a well thought of family, though they aren't as powerful as the Hallows or the Hawthornes, or even the Hellibores, so they are around the same level as the Spellbodies and the Nightshades," the other witch said, only she blinked when she saw the younger brunette flinch at the mention of some of the families. "What is it?"
"I'll tell you in a minute," Mildred said, "go on, what else do you know about the Cackles?"
"They are very interested in magical education. They want to open a magical school, but for the time being, they want to set up conclaves and covens devoted to magical learning so they could gain a good enough reputation so they could apply for the rights to set up a proper magical school."
Mildred tilted her head as she pondered over that little fact. It made sense. She didn't know anything about the magical government, but she imagined that even back then they wouldn't provide anyone with the rights or the permission to do anything unless they had some kind of experience in the field.
She didn't know how much experience anyone should need before you could open a school, but from the sounds of it, the Cackles had needed to spend a lot of time working on their knowledge until they gained the right qualifications.
Meanwhile Mirabelle was busy studying the girl curiously. By now she was convinced the girl was her descendant. How else could she know about the Cackles, and judging from the way she'd winced at the mention of the other families she knew them, but what could have happened to make her react in that manner? She had arrived shortly before the girl had unexpectedly arrived in the flat, and she had seen the lights of the castle in the distance, and because she was from the middle ages Mirabelle had suspected the castle was the home of some lord of the area, figuring that nothing had really changed between the non-magical and magical worlds over the centuries; she had seen the technology in the flat, the electrical lighting, the fridge and the freezer, the television and the laptop, but that was it and she didn't know anything about how they worked, but then she had looked at it closely and she had cast a spell and she had felt the magical wards which prevented the non-magical people from noticing the building.
The strength of the wards had surprised Mirabelle and she had realised that a truly powerful Founding Stone was responsible for the strength of the wards. But while she knew the castle was connected to the magical world, Mirabelle didn't know anything beyond that. But she was determined to get some answers to her questions.
"Who are you?" she asked the girl.
She had noticed the girl looked familiar. She reminded Mirabelle of those magical pictures of some of her ancestors as children. The Hubbles were extremely family orientated, and while the Witches' code caused problems for the family, they didn't let it get in the way of raising their children who were raised equally. Unfortunately, they had needed to make sure they didn't have more than one or two children in each generation to mitigate the worst effects of that code.
But this girl…. she reminded Mirabelle of some of the pictures she had seen of her own mother as a child, and some of her features were so pronounced…. her dark hair, her height, her cheekbones…. they definitely reminded Mirabelle of her own mother. But she needed to hear the girl's name to be sure.
But the girl decided to be obstinate. "Tell me who you are first," she said, folding her arms over her chest.
Mirabelle sighed under her breath. She didn't know how long she had left before her presence in this point in time was detected, but she was desperate to find out what had become of her family that she decided to cooperate. "Mirabelle Hubble."
The reaction from the girl convinced Mirabelle she was indeed one of her descendants. The girl's eyes widened in surprise and she took a deep breath.
"Hubble?" she whispered.
"Yes," Mirabelle confirmed before she decided to bring the line of questioning around to where she wanted it to be. "But you haven't told me who you are?"
The girl's confidence had been clearly shaken by the revelation she needed a few minutes to get her composure back. "I'm Mildred, Mildred Hubble."
Mildred had often asked herself when she had been at Cackles how she could have magic.
When she had been on good terms with Maud and Enid, she had debated with them how it was possible for her to even have magic, because the mother was the one to give a witch her magic. It had never made sense for Mildred. But it was the perfect ammunition for that bullying bitch Ethel Hallow who was determined to ruin her life and confidence.
Mildred had often asked herself if she had magical ancestry, but she had been expelled before she could actually investigate and so she had given up on actually getting answers to her questions. She had realised it was never going to happen so why bother?
But hearing this woman, this witch, say her name was Hubble…..
"Is this a joke?" Mildred asked.
The witch seemed affronted. "No. My name is Mirabelle Hubble."
Mildred didn't know what to think, but the woman hesitantly added, "I'm your ancestor, Mildred."
"What?" Mildred whispered, her brain feeling like it was about to shatter with each new revelation.
Mirabelle, however, seemed to realise that the revelations were going in so quickly that Mildred was on the verge of having a breakdown. So she decided to explain what she was doing here and how she was here. Mildred listened as the older witch, Mirabelle Hubble, told her about who she was, about the coven she and her sisters had founded a long time ago (from Mildred's perspective, etc) the work they'd put into making the place a centre for magical education, teaching the nurturing young witches and inspiring them to form their own covens and grow the history of the Craft for many centuries more.
Mildred learned of all the ups and the downs the coven had faced; how it had taken them over a year and a half to find the right place to found the coven. The witches had set it up in a network of caves and caverns because they provided a ready-made structure without needing to go to the council and fighting with other witches and wizards over different plots of land, though they'd still needed to gather permission to make the Magic Council understand the need.
Magic Council? Mildred had heard whispers about the council when she had been at Cackles. They were just idle boasts from some of the students who had family members, but she had never really learnt enough about it, though she had felt it made sense. The Magical community had been around for a long time. Someone must have written their precious and pedantic code and they would need someone, or a government to enforce the rules, but then she knew there were witches and wizards, those VIPs who had come to the school, who were important.
But Mildred listened with fascination as Mirabelle described how long it had taken to build the coven in the caves; although the majority of the caves and the caverns were just right for the purposes of the witches, they had needed to use magic to create a new ventilation system and they had needed to expand the cavern sizes to make them more room. Apparently, the coven witches had wanted to make the coven as future-proof as possible, and the membership might be doubled in the coming decades. It had happened before.
But then Mirabelle explained about the Founding Stone. Mildred, because of her limited experience with magic and with the Witching World, had never heard of a stone like that, something which surprised Mirabelle but the older witch decided to get her story out of the way first before she asked Mildred to tell her hers. Mildred learnt more about the witching world in just one fifteen minute talk with her ancestor than she had ever done in the few brief months she had ever done at Cackles, and her non-magical background gave her a similarity to the Founding Stone instantly. To her mind, the Founding Stone was just basically a magical battery, though how it worked, she didn't know and frankly did not care.
It kind of surprised her that the first contact she had had with the Witching World for the last five years and she didn't care about the Magic Council and their precious rules and she certainly couldn't bring it in herself to truly care about them. Mildred remembered when she had been dying to know more about the world Maud had introduced her to, but when she'd been betrayed and expelled…. she had found herself not caring at all about magic, but she hadn't expected it to reach a point where she just shrugged her shoulders.
And then Mirabelle told her about what happened.
"My sisters left the caves the moment they realised what had happened to the stone," she said grimly, "When a Founding Stone loses it's magic, the magic nearby begins to act up. At first, it's shown in annoying ways; spells spark and go astray, or they simply don't happen. When it happened to us…," Mirabelle sighed, "denial set in at first, like it usually does. But then the caves began to be covered with magical ice."
"Ice?" Mildred interrupted, confused.
"Yes. When a Founding Stone loses its power, it tries to restore itself by sucking up whatever magic it can find. When the stone in our caves lost its magic, it began reaching out and tried to leech off of the magic created by our spells and our potions, that's why they failed to work right," Mirabelle explained worriedly, wondering why her descendant was having a hard time grasping this. "Then magical ice begins to form as it tries to recover….. Witches and wizards, we don't just use magic, we are magic. It's in our blood, our bodies, and in our very beings. As soon as we realised what was happening, my sisters evacuated; a few were probably caught out, but the rest would have evacuated the younger witches who were at the caves at the time, learning magic in the traditional way."
Mirabelle paused when she thought she saw Mildred rolling her eyes at the word traditional, but she decided to push that aside and focus on her story. Mildred was beginning to worry Mirabelle. She knew the teenager knew about magic, but what in the name of Merlin had happened to her to give her this appalling attitude?
She decided to push ahead and find out. "When I was sure the others were gone, I tried to find a way of restoring the Stone. I even tried offering it my magic in turn, but it wasn't enough; the Stone wanted more, far more than I could provide."
"So what did you do?"
Mirabelle sighed. The curious way Mildred had asked that question was more innocent than a plain accusation, and yet somehow….. Mirabelle could not help but feel it was more painful when spoken in that manner. "I realised the Stone wanted not just my magic, but it wanted the magic of my daughter, her daughter, and all of the daughters of the family to come."
Mildred visibly stiffened, something Mirabelle noticed. "So that's why….. it all makes sense," the teenager whispered.
"What?"
"I'll tell you in a moment," Mildred promised. "Go on."
Mirabelle was silent for a moment while she replayed what she and Mildred had just said, and she became worried when she felt she had the answer. By the sounds of it, she had given her magic and all of the magic of Merlin knew how many generations of their family to that wretched Stone, and now Mildred was a witch.
How many centuries had it taken for their family to once more be blessed with the gift of magic? But more to the point, Mirabelle was concerned. What was Mildred doing now? What had caused the rift between her and this Ada Cackle? Where there the magical items you'd expect to find in any witches' home? She had been in the flat for only a few minutes before Mildred had unlocked the front door, but it had given her a perfect chance to look around. She had seen a single cat, but nothing else.
Where were the potion ingredients? Where was the cauldron? Where were the signs of a traditional witch in this room? Where were the spell books or the books for the code and for magical lore? It made no sense. But after listening to Mildred, she had the feeling she had given her magic to the Stone, and not just her magic but all of the magic of her future generations but Mildred did know about magic, so what had happened? Mirabelle was tired of coming back to that same simple question time and time again and she couldn't wait to get some answers.
But Mirabelle had seen the photographs in the flat. She had seen that Mildred did not live alone, she lived with a woman who had a striking resemblance to Mirabelle herself. But there was no sign of any witchcraft in any of the photographs. There were no pictures of Mildred or her mother on broomsticks unless of course witches and wizards no longer flew them either because someone had found a better method of travel than broomstick flying.
Another thing that concerned the older witch was the living space of her descendants. Her family had never been rich, not like the Hallows or some of the other families out there, but they had not been poor either. Their homes were larger than this, but infinitely cosy because their family cared more for a family than anything less.
She only prayed it took away the foreboding in her chest and stomach.
"I couldn't do it," Mirabelle whispered simply. "I couldn't just hand over my magic and the magic of my daughter and those of our family to come. So I decided to come forward in time to have a look."
It took a second for the teenager to make the leap. "You time travelled into the future," she stated.
"Yes," Mirabelle replied, not even trying to deny it. "It's against the code, but at the time I didn't care about the code; my coven had left the caves, but the council won't care about that when they discover what's happened to the Founding Stone. They will blame us no matter what we do, and there is nothing we can do about that. What difference would it make if I break the code after that?" she asked and then she seemed to collapse into sobs. "I just wanted to find out if my family - you and my descendants - were happy, with or without magic."
Mildred was instantly by her side and the teenager slowly and hesitantly drew her into her embrace. Mirabelle held onto the teenager, relishing the contact.
After Mirabelle had calmed down, Mildred had made them both some hot chocolate - she had thought about making them both some tea or even coffee, but she wasn't sure whether or not the older woman liked either drink, and besides she felt it would be a good idea to try something a bit sweeter, hence the chocolate.
Fortunately, Mirabelle had been happy for a chance to watch Mildred work in the kitchen. "Are you going to tell me?" she asked.
Mildred glanced at her briefly over her shoulder. "What do you mean?" she asked, stalling for a bit longer.
"Please, Mildred," Mirabelle said patiently. "I've told you my story, now tell me yours."
Mildred sighed as she waited for the microwave to 'ping' signalling their drinks had heated enough for them to drink. She turned around slowly to face Mirabelle, leaning against the countertop for support. "When I was growing up, I always wanted to become a witch," she said, "and I noticed a number of bizarre things happening around me that no-one could explain. For instance, when I was in primary school, there was this nasty teacher who singled me out of the class. One day she made me so angry that her hair changed colour from dull brown to a shiny blue."
Mirabelle chuckled.
Mildred smiled as well in remembrance, and then her face became a cross between wistful and sad at the same time. "My mum and I live opposite a castle in the distances, and yet while my mother can see it clearly, to her it's just a derelict building, and yet at night I could see lights."
In Mirabelle's mind that was even more proof the castle was magical. Non-Magical people would notice the place, but they'd never be able to truly see any kind of life.
"It wasn't until I turned eleven that things changed," Mildred's voice became flat in remembrance and Mirabelle was suddenly worried since the girl had struck her as the cheerful type. Visibly taking a moment to take a breath, Mildred went on with her explanation. "One morning I saw a number of people riding broomsticks, and one of them crashed into the balcony. Her name was Maud Spellbody. She was just about to head off to the castle, and I learnt the castle was called Cackles Academy for Witches."
"Cackles? So that's who you were referring too earlier when you said Cackle?" Mirabelle said.
Mildred nodded. "You see…. I got Maud to take me to the school. At the time, Cackles was preparing for a new year and the first year students had to go through an entrance exam. With Maud's help, I was able to talk my way in…. and I failed. I took another student's ingredients and she turned into something different, and I owned up when she revealed I was from a non-magical family. But Ada has a sister, a twisted woman called Agatha, who wants the school for herself."
Mirabelle nodded, knowing what she was talking about.
"Well, Agatha placed a spell into the celebratory meal for those who succeeded in the exams. I tried to warn the staff, but I was sent out. Again. But I got back inside. Ada and Agatha fought in a duel, and when Agatha won she practically had the school in her hands."
Mirabelle knew what she was talking about, so she didn't need to ask for any confirmation.
"But one of the teachers said to me that since everyone was bound by the code they couldn't stop her, but since I was not from the magical world I was exempt. Agatha had poured an obedience potion into the meal, so I had a cat knock the soup all over Agatha. When I found that out I simply had Agatha turn the school back to Ada, and her powers were removed."
Mirabelle was silent as she processed what Mildred was saying. Finally, the microwave pinged to show it was finished, and Mildred took the two mugs full of milk out of the strange contraption, and she spooned in some of the cocoa powder and stirred them both before she handed one of the mugs over to Mirabelle.
The older witch looked at the strangely coloured liquid dubiously but she drank it experimentally. Her expression brightened and she drank another sip.
"Careful, drink that slowly," Mildred said, drinking from her own mug.
"Sorry, I can't help it. Anyway, go on."
Mildred paused and she led the way out of the kitchen. "Miss Cackle decided to offer me a trial," she explained, "in thanks for helping save the school."
Mirabelle was surprised to hear that, a trial? It sounded a little bit….. patronising, almost as if the teachers had decided to take the girl in and then kick her out without giving Mildred a chance. She hoped that it hadn't happened.
But Mildred went on. "It didn't go well; not only were Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom, the potions mistress at Cackles Academy, patronising to my mother. When I got to the school, they were worse. Hardbroom would constantly scold me even if I didn't do anything wrong, and Miss Cackle did the same thing. For instance, when I was trying to pass the broomstick flying test, they gave me a short span of time to learn how to fly the stupid thing."
"What?" Mirabelle whispered in disbelief, though her voice made it clear to Mildred she didn't need the girl to repeat what she'd just said. "But broomstick flying takes years to master."
"I know," Mildred replied, though her tone made it just as clear she didn't really care how long it took to master broomstick flying. "But they still did it."
Mildred looked away. "I had 'befriended' Maud, and later on another girl called Enid Nightshade. At first, they made my life bearable while I struggled with the lessons and with Hardbroom's scorn. But things turned from bad to worst when a group of VIPs came to the school. Miss Cackle decided to give me a chance to prove I can fly after I'd practiced on my broomstick. For a time, it worked out okay, and then I began to lose control of the broom and I crashed into the VIPs."
Mirabelle closed her eyes as the horror story began to unfold, but Mildred was not finished.
"As soon as it was over, I was brought up to the front of the Great Hall, in front of the whole school. I was expelled. And then Miss Cackle and everybody else spent a whole night screaming horrible things to me. Even Maud and Enid. They both said they'd been shamed by what had happened, and they said some terrible things to me. I won't repeat them - I had enough bad dreams to fill a book, and that's where their diatribes belong. During my last night, where other students would scream horrible things at me, I cried myself to sleep. The next day I left the school, deciding that learning magic was not worth it. I had had enough. Miss Hardbroom snatched my broomstick out of my hand with a sneer saying she felt I'd crashed enough, but the thing was I only took the broomstick because I didn't want to walk home in the rain."
The horror story was getting worse for Mirabelle to hear, but seeing Mildred's currently expressionless face and listening to the way she was speaking froze her.
"Miss Bat, the chanting teacher offered to cast a spell when I made it clear I wanted to go home on my own to keep me warm, but by then I was tired of magic. When I got home after spending hours and hours walking home because I didn't want to be transported home and give myself the time I needed to think and besides I didn't want to be transported anywhere - I hated being moved from one space to another without any control, so I was soaking wet and I was crying my eyes out. My mum met me, and we both realised I would be better off in the normal world, but I'd already worked that out."
Mildred took another sip of her drink. "Looking back, I had already worked out I didn't have a place at Cackles long before that moment. It took some time, but I managed to catch up with my peers at normal school. But back at Cackles…..," Mildred sighed and took another sip, "everyone soon realised a girl had cast a spell on my broomstick, a troubled girl called Ethel Hallow."
"Hallow?"
Mildred made a face. "You know them?"
"I've had dealings with them," Mirabelle said shortly, making a face before she pulled herself together. "What happened next?"
"Ethel was close to revealing what she'd done to broadcast her cleverness, but she knew it was a terrible idea. But her lackey, Drusilla Paddock was guilty over what she'd done, which is a first since she's such a toady, so she blew the whistle and everyone soon knew. They tried to get in touch with me, my so-called friends. Miss Cackle or Miss Hardbroom, or someone else had destroyed the cards to mirror me when they kicked me out, so they had to use letters. I didn't bother to reply to them but I read them. But reading what they were saying made me sick. I was furious they were hoping to ask for forgiveness after what they'd done, but I stopped caring. I was trying to get my life back on track."
Mildred took another gulp of her hot chocolate, but she ignored the fact it was cooling down so quickly it was almost lukewarm. "A few weeks after I'd been expelled from Cackles, I came home and I found my mother locked in an argument with Cackle and Hardbroom. They both wanted her to know I had been accepted back into the Academy. When I got in, I was angry they had both come back into my life like nothing had happened, but what really made me frustrated was how they expected me to just bow my head meekly and put my own chains back on and go back to Cackles."
Mirabelle stiffened at Mildred's words. It sounded as though the girl had seen magic and it's education as oppression or enslavement.
Ignorant of her ancestor's thoughts, Mildred went on, "But I refused, I made it clear to them I just wanted to continue my life without potions, spells or those stupid brooms. My mother tried to offer her own opinion, but Miss Cackle told her that it didn't concern her. I lashed out at them, tired when they tried, again, to treat my mother like garbage again when I was right there. It wasn't an isolated thing either; ever since I'd begun at the school, I learnt from my mother who works late sometimes to make ends meet Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom sometimes dragged her out without giving a thought to what she was doing at the time, and they would insult both of us without thinking my mother would not tell me. If they honestly thought I'd let them get away with it, then they're even more stupid than I thought."
Mildred sighed and walked closer to the living room window where the castle in question was sitting on a hill, almost tauntingly as though telling Mildred that she could have been there, but had given up. "I told them I wasn't interested, but for some bizarre reason I've never cared enough to work out, Miss Hardbroom followed me into my bedroom to talk to me. At least that was what she'd said, but I was too furious to think straight; I was just so tired and fed up they'd taken my hopes and thrown them out of the window shamelessly, but I was frustrated with all their letters, their talks about things being different. I'm not stupid, I knew I'd still struggle and I was so tired of trying. I didn't want to live like that anymore, so I refused. Hardbroom patronised me by saying other people would be grateful at being educated, but I focused on one thing. My mother. I had seen magic be used to hurt people, so I was worried if one of them had decided to kidnap me. That shook her. But she refused to leave until I shouted at her to get out, and when I left Miss Cackle was gone as well."
Mildred sat down on the sofa. "I received a few letters after that, one of them was from Maud. She basically repeated she was sorry, but she would respect my wishes to leave me alone and never contact me again. Enid sent me a similar letter, and I haven't seen anyone from Cackles since."
Mirabelle watched as Mildred slowly took another gulp from her mug, but the teenager's posture froze as her eyes narrowed and her expression became more thoughtful. "And you've been in the non-magical world since?"
"Yes," Mildred's voice was a whisper. "The trial was never meant to work. Sooner or later, something could have happened, and I'd end up in the non-magical world anyway. Win-win, in my mind. At least here I've got a better chance of learning how to pass my grades."
What did you think?