Whew! Sorry for the long wait folks - life and uni got in the way a bit, but here's the next chapter. Before we start, I'd just like to make it clear that the staffroom scenes are my favourite, and I therefore had to include one in my fic.

Six

The Morning After

Considering how few people were involved in the night's epic adventure, it seemed to Miss Cackle that the entire school was privy to the cataclysmic events in varying degrees of elaboration. According to some of the accounts that she had overheard, Maud had died at least six times in increasingly gruesome ways. Gossip was rife, as it usually was amongst the girls when something that didn't concern them in the slightest happened and postponing assembly had only added speed to the rumour mill. Much as she hated the interruption to the day, Miss Cackle had held to it to be a necessary evil. It afforded them a little more time in which to try and wrestle with a larger problem that had arisen as a result of the almost-poisoning, namely that of Ethel Hallow. She had failed to come to her early morning meeting and further investigation had found distinct evidence of her having done a runner. This wouldn't, in any other circumstances, be quite so much of a problem, but Miss Cackle was terrified for the girl's safety after observing the weather conditions that she would have set off in. As a result, she was currently spending assembly time in the staffroom with Miss Drill, trying to establish Ethel's possible whereabouts. Miss Bat, who had got into a flap at the mere mention of a missing student, had been sent in search for Drusilla, ostensibly to see if the girl knew anything about her friend's disappearance but in reality to give her colleagues some peace in which to think logically. Presently she returned, a nervous-looking second-year in tow.

"Come in Drusilla," said Miss Cackle brightly in an attempt to reassure her that she was not in any personal trouble. "I daresay you know what happened last night."

Drusilla nodded mutely.

"You'll be pleased to know that Maud is going to make a full recovery. The person we are more concerned with at the moment is Ethel. It appears that she ran away last night after she found out what had happened. Do you, as her best friend, have any idea where she might be?"

Drusilla bit her lip and shook her head. She wanted to say something; she dearly wanted to tell the headmistress that Ethel had gone to her aunt's house and see Ethel get what was coming to her. She deserved it, after ignoring all her so-called friend's advice. But in the end, loyalty won over a desire for revenge and she kept her mouth shut, unable to betray a friend and ruin a camaraderie – her only true camaraderie – that was based on the already shaky foundations of almost-trust and a mutual dislike of Mildred Hubble.

"We are very worried, you see, due to the storm that she set off in," continued Miss Cackle. "We don't want her to have had an accident." She could tell that Drusilla was holding something back and waited patiently for a spoken reply. She didn't say anything more to her pupil, not being much inclined towards or indeed able in the field of mind-games. That was much more Miss Hardbroom's forte. "If you're sure, you may go."

Drusilla made to leave but then stopped, finally finding her absent tongue. It was stupid to remain silent when there was the possibility that Ethel had plummeted to her doom in the freak thunders and was alone in the forest, needing help.

"She said she was going to go to her aunt's house," she admitted nervously. "I tried to warn her, honestly I did, but she wouldn't listen."

"It's alright Drusilla," said Miss Cackle, sensing her distress. "I believe you. Thank you for telling us. You may go."

She waited until Drusilla was out of sight and earshot before collapsing onto the table with a groan, burying her head in her hands.

"Now what do we do?" asked Miss Bat. "Do we even know where Ethel's aunt lives?"

"It's in the big filing cabinet," said Miss Cackle, somewhat muffled. She didn't look up or make any sign of going to get the address. Miss Bat fluttered from one corner of the room to the other, pausing each time in front of the foreboding cabinet that none of the staff liked to enter alone, lest they never be seen again. Finally she hovered in front of the stationery cupboard.

"Davina!" said Miss Cackle sharply, pausing in her close contemplation of the table for long enough to see an impending crisis and a week of being unable to access new exercise books. "Don't you dare get in that cupboard! We shall need all of our heads to solve this one, yours included."

"Oh..." Miss Bat sat down in her usual chair but it did nothing to ease her anxious state. "Where's Constance when we need her. She'd know what to do. She always knows everything!"

Miss Cackle didn't reply, for she had just seen something out of the corner of her eye that gave her a very good idea as to her deputy's whereabouts. Two first-years had been chatting excitedly in the corridor up until a few moments ago, when they had looked up, gone silent, and made a hasty retreat along the passage. As if on cue, Miss Hardbroom stalked into the staffroom and closed the door. She leaned against it heavily and her gathered colleagues could tell that she was resisting the urge to crumple into an extremely ungainly heap.

"You would think that they had never seen someone wearing pyjamas before," she said in reference to the first-years.

"To be fair Constance, most of them haven't seen you wearing your pyjamas before," pointed out Miss Drill. "Especially not at half-past nine in the morning. How's Maud?"

"She's doing well. She can sleep now. Finally."

"Constance, what are we going to do about Ethel?" squealed Miss Bat, who was becoming increasingly worried about the missing girl and increasingly flustered that no one had yet thought of a solution. "You ought to know what to do, she's somewhere between here and her aunt's house..."

Miss Hardbroom fixed the diminutive chanting teacher with a look of half-disbelief, half-exhaustion. Miss Bat tailed off but bravely stayed where she was instead of running for the cupboard.

"Davina, I have been up since half-past one. I have been brewing highly illegal potions. Maud's had all my wide-awake. To cap it all, I have second-year potions to teach in half an hour and I am still wearing my pyjamas. The last thing I need at the present point is to have to try and work out what to do with Ethel." She finally came away from the door and sank gratefully into a chair. "What I need is either some unspeakably strong tea or a cold shower."

"Well, I can provide the former." Miss Cackle passed over the teapot, which was always kept hot in case of such emergencies. "As for the latter, just stick your head out of the window." She grimaced as she looked out at the rain that was still pouring steadily, such unusual weather for June. "We need to contact Isadora Hallow," she continued. "To warn her of her niece's impending arrival if nothing else."

"I'll go," volunteered Miss Drill. "I daresay that the girls will appreciate being let off PE on such a miserable morning. Besides," she added as a reply to Miss Bat's frantic gestures to the weather outside. "I need some fresh air to get my head straight after last night. I'll send Ethel's aunt a telegram at the post office and look for her along the way."

"But it's raining!" squeaked Miss Bat, finally voicing her thoughts.

"I know," Miss Drill reassured, exchanging a somewhat despairing glance with Miss Cackle over the top of their colleague's head. "I'm not afraid of a little water, Davina."

Miss Cackle watched the PE teacher leave the room, hoping that the mission would be a success.

"Well, that's one problem on the way to being solved. Now, what to do with Ethel once her whereabouts is established." Miss Cackle prodded her deputy, who had nodded off and was in danger of pouring tea all over the tablecloth. "Constance my dear, if you're going to insist on teaching your classes instead of going back to bed for the remainder of the morning, then may I suggest that you get dressed?"

Miss Hardbroom nodded a somewhat groggy acquiescence and disappeared. Miss Cackle sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning, wishing, not for the first time, that the pupils at her school were a little more… normal. A little more controlled. She was quite sure that Miss Pentangle had never had to deal with something of this calibre.

"Amelia…" began Miss Bat nervously.

"Yes Davina," said the addressee without looking up. "You may retreat into the cupboard if you so wish."

XXX

Ethel couldn't believe that she'd managed to fall asleep in the middle of the storm, but when she woke up she immediately wished that she hadn't. She was stiff, cold and soaking wet, and her situation hadn't improved much since she had last reflected upon it. She looked down at her broken broomstick again and wondered if tying together with socks would do the trick. If Mildred could do it then it couldn't be that hard, could it?

She flicked open her suitcase and rummaged around for socks, suddenly thinking that it might have been profitable to have packed in a slightly more orderly fashion. It was strange, thought Ethel, how much a person could change when they started panicking. In her two years at the academy, whilst she couldn't say that she'd been prepared for every eventuality, she'd always been very good at planning ahead, yet here she was, with no clue as to what she was going to do next.

Finally, the socks found and tied around the broomstick, she crossed her fingers and ordered it to hover.

"Come on broom. Please don't give up on me now."

After a few false starts the broom seemed to obey, although it shuddered violently when she tried to sit on it, and she didn't dare try and load her luggage onto the back for she knew that socks did not make for the sturdiest of connections. She was going to have to rethink her non-existent plan.

Ethel looked back at the castle. She was closer than she thought. She swallowed hard, as if she was physically swallowing her pride. It was stupid not to go back to the school. She would simply have to accept the consequences of her actions, no matter how unpleasant they might be. And, despite everything, Ethel was anxious to know the outcome of the night's events. She desperately wanted to know how Maud was, although her reasons for such a desire were not entirely selfless. If Maud was alright, then perhaps she could pray for leniency…

Ethel stopped outside Walker's gate and her broomstick jerked to a halt beside her. She was going to have to try and fly over, unless she wanted to be stuck outside in the pouring rain until the next person left the castle on foot. She turned to her broom and began to give it a pep talk.

"Right broom, we're going to have to fly. Can you please stay in one piece for two minutes whilst I get over the gates? Please? Just two minutes?"

The broomstick gave no indication of having heard her, but she thought that it had understood. Gingerly she remounted and tapped the broom, beginning a slow and wobbly descent.

"Nearly there," she pleaded as they reached the top. "Not far to go now."

It was at that point that the gates opened with an ominous creak, making Ethel jump. This sudden movement was the last straw for the broom and it tumbled from the sky with an air of obstinacy, as if it would stubbornly refuse to work ever again.

Ethel was mortified. Not only had she fallen spectacularly for the second time in one morning, she had managed to land on top of Miss Drill, who had been coming through the gate at the exact moment that Ethel's broom had decided to give up the ghost.

"This isn't fair!" she moaned, kicking her offending broomstick as the PE teacher helped her to her feet. "This kind of thing happens to Mildred, not me!"

"Well, it's a good job that it did happen to you; otherwise the wild panic in the staffroom as to your whereabouts might have gone on for weeks. Are you hurt?"

Ethel shook her head. Only her pride had been injured as a result of her midnight escapades.

"Come on." Miss Drill gestured towards the gates. "Go inside and wring yourself out. You're late for an urgent appointment with Miss Cackle."

Reluctantly Ethel trudged into the courtyard.

"How is Maud?" she asked, unable to stop her eyes wandering towards the potions lab window.

"Luckily, Maud will be fine. You've been very fortunate in that respect."

"I didn't mean to," said Ethel, suddenly defensive. "I didn't mean to poison her."

"I'm sure you didn't. The trouble with magic is that nothing really goes to plan. I should know." Miss Drill, despite all that had occurred, felt some sympathy for the bedraggled young witch in front of her. "Go on. The sooner it starts, the sooner it will be over."

OK, once again I can't promise when the final chapter will be up, but I can promise that it will be the final chapter! Just a couple of loose ends to tie up and we're there. Hope you enjoyed it!