Disclaimer: I don't own The Worst Witch.
A/N: I thought I would try and show a slightly different take on the Pentangle so hopefully this works as I found it much harder to write than Hecate's chapter.
This Year's Black
Chapter Two
Six-year-old Pippa Pentangle absolutely hates the colour black.
She thinks that it's dull and boring, and no matter what her older sister's magazines may say, she doesn't find it to be particularly "slimming" either ... whatever that is supposed to mean?
She supposes that she'll find out when she's older.
The only thing worse than the yucky colour itself is having to actually wear it!
Ever the budding fashionista, she tries to sneak in little swatches of colour (pink is her absolute favourite), but she's not the only one with an eye for detail. She scowls as her mother removes them, boldly telling her that when she's a 'big girl' she's never going to wear black again!
Mother Pentangle merely rolls her eyes in response to the proclamation. She gently puts her hands on her youngest daughter's shoulders and looks her straight in the eye as she tells her the exact same thing as always, hoping that one day soon the words might actually start to sink in.
"Traditional witching families should always wear black, and we are a traditional witching family."
Sometimes young Pippa wishes that she wasn't a witch.
Other times she just wishes that she wasn't a Pentangle.
Seventeen-year-old Pippa Pentangle absolutely hates the colour black.
She's thankful that now she's grown up and left home for College she doesn't need to wear it anymore. The first thing she does when her auntie gives her money for books is to go out and replace her entire wardrobe with a sea of pink.
Pippa 2.0 - that's who she is now.
She's a lot older, a lot pinker, and more determined than ever that this time around things will be different. Those girls in their pretty, pink frocks who frequently sidelined her due to her plain, black dresses are now a thing of the past.
A bright smile graces her heavily glossed lips as she scans the room, subtly checking out those she'll spend the next few years with.
Standing just to the side of the main group is a tall, thin girl with long dark hair. She's dressed entirely in black, and her eyes hold an expression that the Pentangle recognises all too well.
Dark brown eyes suddenly meet with her own and Pippa can feel the blush rising rapidly underneath her rouge. She quickly looks away, asking the girl next to her some random question to try and cover up the fact she was caught staring.
When she next looks up, the mysterious raven-haired girl is throwing daggers in her direction.
It's sometimes like trying to get blood from a stone, but Pippa slowly learns more and more about her new best friend.
To look at them, you would never think that the pretty, popular blonde and the plain, studious brunette have anything in common, but they are far more alike than anyone realises.
In Hecate Hardbroom, she's found her kindred spirit. Her sister by heart. And she just knows that they'll be friends for a long time to come.
For about two years, they are practically inseparable. They share their secrets, their hopes, and their dreams. She tells of her desire to one day open her own school and Hecate is the first person not to just laugh in her face at the very idea.
When her best friend suddenly just stops talking to her, slicing off contact with such immediacy, Pippa feels like her heart is physically breaking in two. She doesn't understand why it hurts so much - until it finally hits her like a ton of bricks.
The next time she paints her nails, she finds herself discarding her usual pink polish in favour of the bottle of black that the Hardbroom has left behind.
For a minute, she pretends that Hecate is the one holding her hand.
She clutches the single black rose in her hand, barely able to keep her emotions in check as she tightens her manicured nails around it. She can't believe that after everything that has happened over the years they are at this point.
But they are.
With a deep breath, she sheds the petals of the last rose, lighting the candles with a gentle wave of her hand.
A final glance around the bedroom tells forty-year-old Pippa Pentangle that the scene is set to ask her girlfriend to marry her.