Full Circle

By Angora

"The fate of the school rests in your hands, Mildred."

Mildred Hubble had a flashback of her days at Cackle's academy, and imagined how her classmates and teachers would have shuddered to hear those words spoken.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," Mildred lied. "It's just that I used to go to school at Cackle's."

"I know," Miss Atoll said kindly. "That's why I'm giving you the first go at this. Find out what's wrong there and fix it." Her voice returned to the tone which was most normal for a high-ranking witch. "You've got three days to send me a report with some kind of positive feedback," she continued. "I'm afraid that after that we're going to have to shut the school down for a formal inquiry."

* * * * * * * * *

"She can't do that!" The heads of everyone seated at the cafe swiveled around to look at the offender. The woman leaned forward, dropping her voice a notch. "Well, she can't."

"She can," Mildred replied, catching a glimpse of herself in the other's mirrored sunglasses. For some reason, neither of them had made any attempt at their meal, and the waiter was glaring at them from the doorway. "And she will," Mildred continued. "I've worked with Alexis for five years now. She gets some kind of thrill out of closing down schools... not that she would admit it."

"Well, you're not going to let her," the other resolved, taking a long drink out of her water glass. Mildred looked doubtful. "It's no problem, Millie. Cackle's is just as good now as it was when we went there."

"Things change. I mean, what if-"

Her friend cut her off half way through. "It's probably just Agatha Cackle impersonating her sister again." She looked up presently. "Hey, waiter! More water?" There was another wave of head swiveling in their direction as the waiter grumbled and brought more to drink. "Look," she said seriously. "I'll give Ethel a call tonight and see what she's got to say. When do you fly up again?"

"Tomorrow," Mildred replied glumly. "They're putting me up in that disgusting hotel in town."

"Great! I'll give you a buzz around lunch time then?" Mildred agreed. "Super. I've got to run, I'm afraid." This wasn't unusual. One or the other always had to go back to work before lunch was really over. "Bye, Millie!" She called, and started off at a brisk pace down the sidewalk, with the heads turning once more to follow her.

"Bye, Drusilla!" Mildred looked down at her unfinished chicken salad and left the money for the bill. Somehow, she didn't feel any better about the whole thing.

* * * * * * * * *

The school looked smaller than she remembered it. Mildred stood in the courtyard, taking in the sight. Both bats and pupils were flying around the towers, just as they had been when she was a student. She didn't know exactly why the school looked smaller - it wasn't as though she had gotten all that much taller (as far as she had noticed, anyway), only less gawky.

She practiced in her head what she was going to say, but couldn't seem to soothe the butterflies in her stomach. She wouldn't have to tell Miss Cackle about the school being shut down, at least, as the board had sent a letter before her. "You can do this, Mildred," she said to herself.

Reaching out a hand to knock on the door, she heard a spectacular crash from behind it. The door was yanked open, and she had to jump out of the way of the figure storming out of it. "Miss Cackle?" Mildred asked sheepishly.

Wide-eyed, she watched as her former teacher stopped walking, and turned to scowl at her. She had long since stopped remembering Miss Cackle's birthday, but doing the sum in her head, she guessed that the woman must be in her fifties, or sixties. It was hard to tell, and she had never really asked when she was younger.

"Mildred," Miss Cackle said thoughtfully, looking her up and down once. "Good." Then, as though she had just remembered to be angry, she added, "Tell her she looks like a skunk for me!" With this cryptic statement, she continued storming off. Mildred watched her go - watched her hesitate a beat at the gate - and watched her open it and continue to stomp away.

The door had been left open, and she ventured inside. The school seemed quite normal and quite quiet. Mildred looked around, expecting something to startle her just as Miss Cackle had done, and made her way to the staff room.

She knocked softly on the door, pushing it the rest of the way open. The three occupants barely looked up as she came in. Miss Hardbroom was sitting as rigidly as ever in a chair with her hands folded. The expression on her face was one that Mildred had learned to fear. It was set and determined, yet, as she wasn't speaking, it meant that she was too angry to form coherent words. Contrary to what Miss Cackle had said, Miss Hardbroom did not look like a skunk, although Mildred immediately understood the reference. The deputy head of Cackle's had developed a grayish white streak on her left temple which disappeared into the confines of her tight hairstyle, which also hadn't changed.

Miss Bat was sitting on the staff room couch about six feet from Miss Hardbroom. She was attempting to drink some tea, but the cup rattled as her hand shook, and she ended up bending her face to her hand rather than the other way around. Beside her, looking incredibly bored, was Miss Drill. Mildred felt a sudden regret for placing so little value on physical fitness as she noticed that other than a couple of lines on her face, Miss Drill looked exactly the same.

"Hello, Mildred," Miss Drill said dryly. "You missed all the fun." Miss Hardbroom's eyes narrowed in Miss Drill's direction as Mildred cautiously walked into the room.

Mildred didn't know quite what to say, but Miss Bat, who was acting as though everything was normal, saved her. She leaned forward, placing her teacup on the table and opening a sugar jar as she spoke. "How was your flight up?"

"Very good," Mildred said with false merriment. "I wonder if you could tell me where Miss Cackle's going?"

"Hell." This was said very calmly by Miss Hardbroom, who might as well have said "the store" for the emotion behind it. Miss Drill rolled her eyes, and Miss Bat closed hers, shaking her head as if to clear it of thoughts. Again, Mildred wasn't quite sure what to say. Miss Hardbroom almost looked like she regretted her words - almost - and held her temper in check once more. "If you'll excuse me." Without waiting for an answer, Miss Hardbroom stood and left the room. Her exit was followed by a sigh of relief from both of the other teachers, and growing confusion from Mildred.

"What was that about?" She asked, suddenly feeling the tension alleviated from the room.

"They've been like that for the last five months," Miss Bat explained. During the last moment, she had managed to scoop six scoops too many of sugar into her tea and was showing no signs of stopping. Miss Drill was watching this with interest, but made no attempt to stop her.

"But why?" Mildred asked, also fixated on the sugar spectacle.

"Nobody knows," Miss Drill replied.

"It's been like that every day," Miss Bat said. "One or the other stomps away in a huff."

"You can guess who has to cover their classes," Miss Drill added with the same indifference. Somehow, the idea of Miss Drill trying to teach potions and spells made Mildred suspect where the complaints from parents had been stemming from.

Before she could reply, Miss Bat took a big sip of her tea and scrunched up her face in appropriate disgust. "Not nearly enough sugar!" she exclaimed.

Mildred and Miss Drill exchanged a look, and Mildred was comforted to know that at least some things hadn't changed.

* * * * * * * * *

Mildred was sent away to the dining hall to answer her phone. Miss Bat was quite afraid that Miss Hardbroom would find out about it, and made this very clear by taking Mildred by the hand as if she were still a child, and running with her down the hallway.

"Hello, Drusilla," Mildred said, feeling out of place in the familiar room.

"Hi," Drusilla replied. "You have any luck yet?"

"Something strange's going on," Mildred said. "Cackle and HB are at each other's throats. Miss Cackle nearly ran me over when I got here. From what I hear, Miss DriIl's been covering some of their classes."

"Extra PE? Sounds like the old days."

"I'm afraid she's been trying to teach potions and spells."

Drusilla grunted, expressing the mutual terror and unrest that the idea caused. "So what're they on about?"

"I haven't figured that out yet," Mildred admitted. "I've talked to some of the students - they look so tiny, Drusilla, you wouldn't believe it - and I don't think it seems to be disturbing them at all. Did you find out anything?"

"Well, I called Ethel," Drusilla offered. "She says nothing's come across her desk about it, so it definitely isn't a magic use related problem. She even had her secretary check on it." Drusilla spoke with some mirth as she added, "but she says to tell you that the lawnmower incident did pass across her desk."

Mildred rolled her eyes. "Can't they just let that go?" she asked. But she knew that Ethel never would let it go.

"'Fraid not," Drusilla replied. "Oh, did you hear about Coldstone?"

"No," Mildred said with interest.

"Ethel's got her again!" Drusilla exclaimed.

"You're joking!" Although Bindweed had been in the witch equivalent of jail for three years, Coldstone always managed to weasel her way out of whatever Ethel found to charge her with.

"I'm not!" There was a beep on the other end of the line. "Oh, I've got to go, Millie," Drusilla said quickly. "Is there anything else you want me to check?"

Mildred thought for a minute. "I can't think of anything right now," she said. "But do you mind if I call you back tomorrow?"

"No problem," Drusilla answered. "And, Millie? Good luck, eh?"

"Thanks."

* * * * * * * * *

Mildred looked out the window of her hotel room. No one had been able to find Miss Hardbroom after her exit, and Miss Cackle hadn't returned to the school until nine o'clock, whereupon she announced that she had a lot of work to do and would be happy to talk to Mildred tomorrow.

She hadn't a clue what to do. The last thing she wanted to do was get involved in a fight between the two people who frightened her most in the world, but she might have to in order to save the school from closure.

What to do, what to do..? Mildred watched the full moon hanging in the sky and was suddenly hit with an inspiration. There was only one person she could think of who always knew what to do.

"Hmmm?" Maud Moonshine's tired voice sounded muffled over the phone, and Mildred winced as she realized what time it was. "Millie?"

"Sorry to wake you," Mildred said sincerely. "But I need some good advice."

"Of course." There was a rustling as Maud sat up to listen. "What is it?"

Mildred outlined the situation and heard Maud make the same disbelieving scoffing sound that Drusilla had made. "I just don't know what to do."

"Well, okay," said Maud thoughtfully. Mildred felt bad for putting her on the spot like this. "Are you exaggerating?"

"Of course I'm not!"

"Sorry," Maud said. "But I did go to school with you, remember?" She had a point. "You've got no idea what they're going on about?"

"No," Mildred said. "They're both very old... maybe they're just grumpy."

"I don't think that's it." There was a pause. "You want us to fly up tomorrow?"

"Would you?" Mildred asked, extremely pleased by this idea. Having Maud and Enid around was always the best solution to any problem.

"Yeah," Maud said distractedly.

Mildred heard a distant shout in the background. "Maud, who's on the phone? I'm trying to sleep here! I'll turn him into a frog this time, I swear!"

"Shush," Maud replied to the voice of her roommate, Enid Nightshade. "It's not Charlie, it's Mildred."

There was a click as the extension was picked up. "Millie?"

"Hi, Enid."

"Wow, long time no see," Enid said brightly. "Maudie, why didn't you tell me she was on the phone?" Mildred could feel Maud rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. "So what's up?"

Mildred and Maud, each cutting the other off periodically, explained the situation. "Always something brewing at Cackle's, isn't there?" Enid asked whimsically. "Evil witches, people turned into frogs, surprise tests, deadly magic cyclones... aw, I'm getting all nostalgic." The other two chuckled. After agreeing to meet at the academy the next day, the trio returned to their respective beds once more.

* * * * * * * * *

"I appreciate you being the one to handle this, Mildred," Miss Cackle said kindly. She was in a much better mood than she had been on the previous day. "I've heard that they're planning to close us down, but I'm sure, as you can see, that there's no reason for it."

"That's the problem, Miss Cackle," Mildred said. "I don't know what the complaints are or who's issued them. It's one of the loopholes in board procedure that we're trying to correct."

"By 'we' you mean yourself and Drusilla Paddock?" Mildred blinked in surprise. "I still read the paper every day, Mildred."

"Yes," Mildred smiled, remembering Drusilla's grin as they posed for the front page - "Smile for the camera!" she had said, pulling a face and throwing her arm around Mildred. "What reasons have they given you?"

"Some nonsense about the school having out lived its use. Something else about a number of complaints from parents about teacher conduct. Things like that," Miss Cackle replied nonchalantly. "I'm sure you realize that those complaints are unfounded."

"Well..." Mildred looked around the barren office. "There seems to be some sort of dispute between... certain staff members."

The doorknob jiggled and there was the sound of someone cursing and a loud knock on the door. Miss Cackle hadn't used to lock her office door. Mildred watched in fascination as her former teacher rubbed her hands together with glee. "It took me two months, Mildred," she said proudly. "But I've done it. I've found a spell to stop her from teleporting herself in." There was no need to ask whom she was talking about. She raised her voice and yelled so sharply that Mildred involuntarily winced. "Go away!"

There was no reply from the other side of the door, and Miss Cackle chuckled under her breath. "Now, where were we? You said there was some problem with the staff?" Mildred nodded uncertainly. "If you mean Bat and Drill, they've always been like that. They don't mean anything by it."

"I wasn't talking about Miss Bat and Miss Drill," Mildred said. Miss Cackle looked puzzled by this. "I was thinking more of Miss Hardbroom and... um... you."

"Miss Hardbroom and I?" Miss Cackle asked with genuine sounding shock.

"Yes," Mildred said, feeling twelve years old. "It seems that - well, from what I've heard - that is to say that -"

"Well, spit it out," Miss Cackle said kindly.

"You fight all the time and Miss Drill's teaching your classes," Mildred said quickly. "It's nothing against Miss Drill, but she's not a witch, and she doesn't know potions and spells, and some first years told me that they usually just have extra PE - and I never liked extra PE, but that's not at all what this is about - and I've called in all my favors, and all Drusilla's favors, and I think that maybe if I knew what you were fighting about then I might be able to help or something - and it's just that-"

"Slow down, Mildred, slow down," Miss Cackle said. Mildred took a deep breath and watched her former teacher mask her face with the fake and placating look she had become accustomed to. "Now, I don't know what you've heard, but surely you remember how the roomers were when you went to school here. Now, I admit that on occasion, I've had to have someone fill in on one or two of my classes for me, but it's got nothing to do with Miss Hardbroom."

"Well," Mildred said boldly, "if it hasn't, then what has it got to do with?"

"I'm very old, Mildred," Miss Cackle said bluntly. "My health isn't all that it used to be."

"That doesn't explain why they're shutting you down," Mildred replied, more to herself than the other.

"No, it doesn't," Miss Cackle agreed.

* * * * * * * * *

Although she had been greeted with memories ever since entering the castle, Mildred was greeted with a particularly violent one as she stepped into the hall. As far as she could remember, her teachers had always stopped talking whenever she had entered the room. Now, all these years later, as she entered the passage, the same thing happened again.

Ms. Semolina, who had taken over for Ms. Tapioca when she retired, as well as Miss Hardbroom abruptly stopped speaking at the other end of the hall and turned to look at her for a moment. After a beat Ms. Semolina turned and started back toward the dungeon and Miss Hardbroom, looking as though she thought it very unfortunate, started walking down the hall in Mildred's direction. It was the only way she had of getting to the potion class, it seemed.

"Hello, Miss Hardbroom," Mildred said as cheerfully as she could.

"Hello, Mildred," Miss Hardbroom answered awkwardly. She nodded a little as she passed.

"I wonder if I could speak with you when you've got a moment?" Mildred asked.

"Of course," Miss Hardbroom replied icily. Mildred suspected that Miss Hardbroom would volunteer herself to reshingle the roof rather than have a free moment for her, but she ignored this and let her former teacher go on her way in peace.

* * * * * * * * *

"Mildred Hubble." The words were forced out in the same grating way that they always had been. To Mildred's great surprise, Miss Hardbroom had kept her word, and was grudgingly offering Mildred some tea in her study.

Mildred had only been in Miss Hardbroom's study once; when Enid had cast the wrong spell during a cross-country run. Miss Hardbroom had gotten a new tea set since then, and Mildred wondered briefly if it was more durable than the last.

"Miss Hardbroom," Mildred said, trying to imitate the tone and failing miserably. She took a deep breath, and set down her tea so as not to have it rattling in her hand. "As you know, I'm here to evaluate the school before the board decides if they're going to shut it down. There have been numerous complaints, and it has come to my attention that Miss Drill has been left in charge of teaching your classes." Miss Hardbroom's eyes grew wide with indignation and she opened her mouth to speak. There was a sharp intake of air that had always warned Mildred to plug her ears - and she did so now without shame.

"Will you get away from the door!" Surprisingly, the bellow was not directed at Mildred, but the unassuming wooden door behind her. She turned sheepishly to see what it had done wrong, and heard the distant sound of retreating footsteps. "I'm going to blast her next time," Miss Hardbroom growled, taking an angry quaff of her tea. "Now, what were you saying, Mildred?"

"Was that Miss Cackle?" Mildred asked bravely.

"Yes." This was perfectly obvious.

"Not to contradict you, Miss Hardbroom," Mildred said, seeing an opportunity to open conversation, "but, isn't Miss Cackle allowed to walk where she likes? I mean, it is her school."

Miss Hardbroom choked on her tea and laughed wickedly. "Oh, she told you that, did she?"

"Well," Mildred said, not liking the wicked laughter one bit, and searching for a way to stop it, "it is Cackle's Academy. And she did get it back from Mr. Hallow... twice."

Miss Hardbroom looked decidedly pleased with herself. "Well, then, I am delighted to be the one to tell you. Although, I feel you've done a very poor job of research if you don't know. Well, you see what kind of people the board has working on it..."

"What were you going to tell me, Miss Hardbroom?" Mildred asked crossly.

"Miss Cackle," Miss Hardbroom said, pronouncing every word with profound satisfaction and clarity, "owns precisely half of this institution."

"And who owns the other half?" Mildred scrunched back in her chair, already knowing the answer, and watching the satisfied smirk grow on Miss Hardbroom's face.

"Me."

* * * * * * * * *

"On pizza day?" Enid was quite incensed now. She stomped around Mildred's hotel room looking for something to throw.

"Our pizza day?" Maud added, sitting much more calmly on the window ledge.

"Yes," Mildred said. "I talked to Ms. Semolina this afternoon. Miss Hardbroom wants her to start serving liver and onions again."

"And HB owns half the school?" Maud asked.

"Well, we know what the problem is now," Enid said. "Didn't anyone ever teach them to share?"

"Apparently not," Maud replied.

"I don't know what to do!" Mildred exclaimed.

"Maybe it's better to shut them down," Maud suggested quietly. "I mean, if they're just going to carry on like this."

"Maybe."

* * * * * * * * *

"I have to make my recommendation to the board today," Mildred said. She was waiting for Ms. Semolina to bring her lunch to the staff room.

The four people seated at the table looked up at her with mostly indifference. "And what will your recommendation be, Mildred?" Miss Hardbroom asked calmly.

"Can't you leave the girl alone?" Miss Cackle asked, before Mildred could formulate an answer.

"Well, since she brought it up-"

"She only brought it up because no one was saying anything."

"It's not my fault if no one says anything!"

Miss Bat had her fingers in her ears and was humming to herself whilst Miss Drill attempted to solve a hand held puzzle game she had confiscated that morning. Mildred wished that she had something to do.

"No one says anything because you contradict everything they say!"

"Only if I disagree!"

"You always disagree!" Miss Cackle jumped to her feet for emphasis, a little less spryly than she would have years before.

"I do not!" Miss Hardbroom's voice had only grown more shrill with age, and she jumped to her feet as well.

"Yes you do! You're... you're..."

"Would you like a go?" Mildred looked across the table to see that Miss Drill was offering her the hand held game. "It's quite interesting."

"Not just now," Mildred whispered, afraid of drawing attention to herself.

"You're disagreeable!" Miss Cackle exclaimed, finally finding the right word.

Miss Hardbroom laughed wickedly again, and Mildred felt a shiver go down her spine. "Well at least I'm not asinine."

Ms. Semolina chose that moment to walk in, smiling brightly, with a large tray of food. "Good afternoon everyone," she announced. Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom slowly sank back into their seats, and Miss Drill tapped Miss Bat on the shoulder until she ventured to open her eyes and stop humming. Ms. Semolina began to lay the plates on the table. "For Miss Hubble we have the chicken salad, for Miss Drill the spaghetti, for Miss Bat the... gray thing, for Miss Cackle we have the cheese souflette, and for Miss Hardbroom, something I make myself, we have the lasagna. Is delicio, it took an hour to make. Bon appetita!" She patted Miss Hardbroom on the arm affectionately and went on her way. Miss Cackle snorted, and the meal commenced in silence.

Both the owners of the school ate in military fashion, made their excuses, and retreated to their separate corners within a few minutes. "What's going on with Ms. Semolina?" Mildred asked as soon as the others had gone.

"She wants money." Miss Drill asked said. There was no more of an answer forthcoming.

"Yes," Mildred said. "And?"

"It's quite complicated, dear," Miss Bat said softly.

"Is it about Miss Hardbroom owning half of the school?" Mildred asked.

"Hum?" Miss Drill looked up from her meal. "Yes, in a way."

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Mildred asked. "Them sharing the school."

"It's not so much that, Mildred," Miss Drill explained patiently. "Miss Hardbroom's owned half the school for almost three years now."

"Then what is it?"

"They're trying to buy each other out." Miss Bat said bluntly.

"The problem," said Miss Drill, "is that neither of them wants the other to own the school. So, whoever crumbles first..."

"Loses the school," Mildred said thoughtfully. "That would explain why they're trying to get rid of each other. But why doesn't one of them just sell to someone else."

Miss Drill rolled her eyes. "That's what I said. Miss Hardbroom thinks that whoever gets her half will just sell it to Miss Cackle."

"Miss Cackle tried to sell her half to me," Miss Bat added.

"And?"

"Oh, I don't want any part of this drafty old place. I'll be retiring soon, and I'd rather have money." It was one of those rare times that elderly Miss Bat made a coherent argument.

"What about you, Miss Drill?"

"I just can't afford it. Besides, I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my career arguing with Miss Hardbroom over what color the uniform socks should be."

"And Ms. Semolina?"

Miss Drill made a sound of disgust. "She's trying ingratiate herself because she thinks Miss Hardbroom will end up owning the school."

"She's probably right," Miss Bat commented.

"Hang on," said Mildred. "So, if I can get one of them in full possession of the school, then the problem will be solved, right?"

"I suppose it would have to be."

* * * * * * * * *

"No offence, Mildred, but you're mad if you think that's going to work." It was good to see that Enid's advice was as pure as ever.

"It's the only way I can see not to have the school shut down completely."

Maud looked wary of the whole idea, harkening back to the old days, and Enid just looked disdainful. "Who're you phoning?" Maud asked.

"Drusilla," Mildred answered.

"If you ask me, this whole thing's ridiculous," Enid said. She looked at Maud for support. "She'll never go for it. She won't."

* * * * * * * * *

Miss Cackle had stopped counting the years since she had inherited the school from Granny Cackle. However, it was quite apparent to her now, as she looked steadfastly into the mirror, that her reflection had changed considerably since then.

It seemed like forever since she had inherited the school. She remembered very clearly the first day she had stepped through the doors.

* * * * * * * * *

The Hideous Hall of Hallows. That's what Granny Cackle had called the great hall. The Hallows, a prominent witch family, had supported the school since it's founding, and consequently, their portraits had been hung all around the building.

Amelia Cackle, the new headmistress, had decided to conduct interviews in The Hideous Hall, deciding to give her late grandmother's office a miss for the time being. She only had the next month to assemble a working staff. Most of Granny Cackle's employees had taken her demise as an opportunity to jump ship, even though enrollments hadn't dwindled much.

Frank Blossom, the caretaker who had shaken her hand and told her what a "real great lady" Granny was, was one of the few people who remained. There was Ms. Tapioca, the cook, who seemed particularly angry about the change of headmistresses - as though Granny could've stopped herself dying. Amelia had taken Granny's advice and left the hiring and firing of kitchen staff to the cook. There was the P.E. teacher, the potions teacher - a woman who looked accustomed to having things spilled on her - and the new chanting teacher who had been hired only a year or two before; Devina Bat, who had the peculiar habit of sinking towards the floor as she talked to you.

That morning, Amelia had sat down at her makeshift desk in the great hall with a list of well over fifty people, and only three positions left to fill. The list was now down to six people, and only one person had been hired. That was Miss Gimlet, the new form teacher for year three. The two jobs left were that of Spells teacher and deputy-head. So far, all the applicants for both positions had attended prestigious schools, had the recommendations of first class witches and wizards, and had adequate practical experience. Unfortunately, the all had a fatal flaw - Miss Bolt, the last person she had interviewed, turned into a duck whenever she heard a bell ring.

As Mr. Blossom, who was kind enough to serve as secretary for the time being, went to get the next contender, Amelia felt certain that she wouldn't find a suitable candidate among the masses.

"Um," Mr. Blossom said by way of introduction, "this is Miss Hardboom."

"Hardbroom!" Not waiting for Mr. Blossom to get out of the way, severe looking young woman pushed past him and looked around the hall in disdain.

Amelia was a very kind person, and there weren't many individuals that she could hate on sight, but Miss Hardbroom was certainly one of them.

"I presume you are Miss Cackle?"

"Um... yes."

"Very well," the woman continued in a businesslike manner. "I am Constance Hardbroom and I am here regarding-"

There was suddenly a very loud noise outside the door. Frank Blossom burst in, his eyes wild with panic. "Someone rang a bell!" he exclaimed. This was accompanied buy numerous screams from the hall.

"As I was saying," Miss Hardbroom continued, quite put out at having been cut off.

Mr. Blossom looked back out the door and continued his play by play. "Miss Bolt's gone ballistic! She's pecking everyone in sight! Hey, keep your hands off that! I just finished cleaning those!" and with that cryptic exclamation, he ran back out again.

"Oh dear," Amelia said gravely.

"Good grief," Miss Hardbroom said, looking more annoyed than anything else. She promptly turned around and said some appropriate words, causing an eerie silence in the hall. This lasted for precisely thirty seconds, and then the door slammed shut anyway. "As I was saying-"

"What did you do?" Amelia asked with interest, and a little trepidation.

"What? Just now?"

"Yes, just now."

"Nothing. I merely required silence in order to complete my interview. Though I must say, I'm not too impressed with you so far."

"You're not too impressed with me?" exclaimed Amelia in disbelief.

"So far."

Frank Blossom chose that moment to return, and Miss Hardbroom made a sound of appropriate disapproval. "What is it, Frank?" Amelia asked patiently. After a few elaborate hand gestures it became apparent that the grounds keeper had lost his voice. "You did this?"

Miss Hardbroom shrugged. It was no big deal.

It took a good ten minutes to set everyone to rights, and after that, no one wanted very much to work at Cackle's. "I don't mean to push," said Miss Hardbroom, who did mean to push and hadn't bothered to help matters in the least, "but I have another appointment in twenty minutes."

Amelia was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth and closed it again, making no sound at all. "Did I get you as well?" asked Miss Hardbroom with honest sympathy. "I didn't mean to."

"No, you did not get me as well!"

"Very well then." Nothing out of the ordinary here. Just make seven people and duck mute and go on your way.

"Go to your appointment then, Miss Hardbroom," Amelia said finally. "I'll give you a call when I decide." When I decide on the appropriate obscenity to describe you.

"That won't do you any good."

"Why not?"

"I don't have a telephone."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

* * * * * * * * *

She could teach spells herself. And who really needed a deputy-head anyway? These were the thoughts that Amelia was mulling over when her potions teacher came to see her.

Miss Storm, the wolf in sheep's clothing that she was, had decided to wait until the day before term started to announce that she had decided to quit.

This news wasn't entirely unexpected. A report that the roof had fallen in wouldn't have been entirely unexpected. But it did pose a problem, since no one else on staff who was qualified to teach that class would have time to. That meant she would have to rearrange the whole schedule within a few hours.

She was barely a third of the way done when her second visitor arrived. It was Mr. Blossom, and she had a brief premonition of his telling her that the roof really had fallen down. "Sorry to disturb you, Miss Cackle," he said kindly, "but there's someone here to see you."

"Who is it now, Frank?"

Before he could answer, the familiar face of Miss Hardbroom appeared over his shoulder, and the caretaker had the sense to move out of her way this time. Casting a somewhat frightened look behind him, he left briskly. Miss Hardbroom smiled with mischievous satisfaction. "You again," Miss Cackle said. What now?

"I've been informed that you have yet to hire a spells teacher."

"Who told you that?"

"It hardly matters."

Amelia was thoughtful for a moment. It was getting late, and the pile of paper work in front of her was taking on monstrous proportions. "Can you teach potions?"

"What? Of course I can teach potions, but I'm not here for-"

"Good." She was extremely pleased to have taken her opponent off guard. "You're hired. You can start tomorrow; the potion lab's at the end of the hall."

* * * * * * * * *

"Well, Miss Cackle, I must say that I've had my doubts," Mr. Luster, the chair of governors smiled ecstatically as the students navigated their way through the hallway around him. "But you've been open for almost a full year now with hardly a problem at all."

"Thank you, Mr. Luster," Amelia replied, more pleased with herself than she cared to admit.

"But as to this problem of a deputy-head," Mr. Luster said thoughtfully, "I've been considering it for quite some time."

"Well," Amelia said, seeing where he was going and attempting to halt him in his tracks, "I really don't think..."

"I have a nephew who would be perfect for the job."

"Really?" Amelia asked flatly, trying to think of a way out of it.

"Yes!" said Mr. Luster, apparently not noticing her disinterest. "He's a Hallow, one of the Hallows, you know. He's not a wizard, per say... but he's got some brilliant ideas about revolutionizing traditional witch schools."

"All the same, Mr. Luster," Miss Cackle said, thinking quickly, "I already have an acting deputy-headmistress who's doing a marvelous job."

"Really?" asked Mr. Luster with some amount of surprise.

"Yes." Her eyes darted around the hall as she searched for a name, and unfortunately, there was only one person around. "Miss Hardbroom."

"What?" Miss Hardbroom asked suspiciously, just coming into hearing range.

"Mr. Luster was just recommending to me his nephew, who wants to revolutionize traditional schools, Miss Hardbroom." She saw Miss Hardbroom's face automatically contort as she prepared to voice her objections. This was good. "And so I was just telling him how you're my acting deputy-headmistress. So Mr. Luster's nephew is out of luck," she added pointedly.

"Right," Miss Hardbroom lied - not a thing she did particularly well.

"Really?" asked Luster again.

"Really," Amelia interrupted, not trusting Miss Hardbroom to lie again.

"Very well then," said Luster, skulking away in disappointment.

* * * * * * * * *

"We should expel her." Miss Hardbroom, ever since become acting deputy-head, and then becoming the actual deputy head, had always found a student to dislike.

"There's no point," Amelia answered. She had stopped bothering to argue with Miss Hardbroom years ago, and had discovered the satisfaction of answering in a dry monotone. "She's dropped out."

"What?"

"Just this morning." Miss Hardbroom looked disappointed, and Amelia suspected that she had been looking forward to telling Amanda Honeydew that she was expelled.

"Why wasn't I informed?"

"I've just told you, haven't I?" She ignored the scowl. "That Hallow character's on his way up," she continued, trying to change the subject.

"Again?" Hallow was the only person Miss Hardbroom disliked more than her chosen student of each year. After noticing the trend, Amelia had affectionately started calling each of Miss Hardbroom's young nemeses "The Lightening Rod", and went out of her way now and then to give The Lightening Rod a little of her self esteem back. This served to aggravate her colleague to no end. It was a lot of fun. "What does he want this time."

"I think he wants to be chair of governors." Miss Hardbroom snorted in disapproval. "At least it'll distract you for a while."

"From what?" Miss Hardbroom demanded indignantly.

From sending students to my office for cowering too often. "Nothing."

It didn't matter. Miss Hardbroom had gone into deep thought, and was probably planning something nasty to say to Hallow.

* * * * * * * * *

"There's something I ought to tell you." This was never easy to say, but the third time ought to be a charm, right? "Mr. Hallow owns the school again."

Miss Hardbroom looked a little less disgruntled and surprised than she had the first two times. "Again?"

"Yes, again," Amelia said a little irritably. "And you needn't look so smug, either." Miss Hardbroom always looked smug, or at least she had for the last few years. Instead of her characteristic outbursts of fury, she had learned to "channel her anger" into something productive. Such as launching a surprise fire drill at two in the morning. The smug look was a grim warning of enervation to come. Amelia was beginning to wish that she hadn't forced her friend to read that particular self-help book.

"The fact of the matter," Amelia continued, "is that I don't have enough money to buy it back from him and keep it up and running."

"Yes, I think we've learned that through trial and error, haven't we?" Miss Hardbroom was taking this surprisingly well, considering her abhorrence of Mr. Hallow.

Amelia ground her teeth and continued, half hoping that she would shock some sort of reaction out of the other. "So I've decided to let him sell it. That's what he wants to do, after all, and there's a nice witch, Miss Dragonfly, I believe, who's always wanted to own a school."

There was no reaction. Miss Hardbroom continued drinking her tea, as if simply waiting for Amelia to hurry up and get to the point. Eventually she looked up and caught the harried look on her face. "Is that all?" she asked, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll give you the money for the school."

"What?" She must have misheard. "Since when do you have money to burn?"

"I haven't." Damn that anger channeling. Miss Hardbroom was as placid as a statue. "But as you said, you can't afford it. And I certainly don't want that Hallow character to have it... even if he is chair of governors."

"I can't let you do that."

"Why not?"

"Because it isn't right." God this was painful. It was like turning down the bank when they accidentally gave you free money. Miss Hardbroom frowned. "I can't have you spending that kind of money on my account."

"Who says it's for you? I want to work here, don't I? And you better believe I'm not going to work for Eliza Dragonfly!"

"You know her?" There was a grim nod. It didn't really mean anything, coming from Miss Hardbroom, but it made her want to back out of the deal even more. Strength, courage, just don't imagine the money. "Be that as it may, I still can't-"

Miss Hardbroom waved her hand dramatically, and a stack of bills appeared in it. "Here," she said irritably.

Amelia stared at the money for a moment, trying to think of a way to accept it. "What if you just buy half the school?" she asked suddenly.

"That's what I'm trying to do, if you'll let me."

"No, I mean buy it and keep it."

"Keep half the school?" Judging by the look on her face, Amelia guessed that her friend was seeing visions of cutting the building in half.

"Yes. It couldn't be in better hands, and that way I know that Mr. Hallow will never get it back."

* * * * * * * * *

And here she was, three years later, setting magical boobytraps around the castle to snare her best friend. Well, now was the time to stop it, and if she didn't act quickly, she was going to lose her nerve.

The door handle gave her a nasty shock, but she was pleased that she had managed not to scream. It was strange to have to knock.

Miss Hardbroom answered the door with mild irritation what turned to venom instantly. "Oh, it's you," she growled. Without inviting her companion in, she returned to her desk.

"Constance," Cackle said, bravely crossing the threshold, and relieved not to be vaporized, "this has to stop."

"Go away."

Not to be put off, she continued, "I think we both realize that the school can not continue to function this way."

"Oh?"

"Yes." It was hard to believe one person could be so annoying. "We both know that neither of us is ever going to sell out first."

"We'll see about that."

"And," she continued sharply. "I received an interesting offer this afternoon that I think will solve everyone's problems." There was no snide reply. She took it as a good sign until the silence stretched out over two minutes. "Constance?"

"Do you remember why this started?" It sounded almost like a philosophical question; something scholars would puzzle over for hundreds of years.

"I told you you couldn't set a one-shot potions exam for the first years in addition to the broomstick flying test, and you did it anyway."

"No," came the almost distracted sounding reply. "That's not it."

"Don't try to tell me what started it, I was there." This was probably a very involved way to lead up to an insult of some sort. So much for the great new offer.

"Do you remember what else happened around that time?"

"Do we have to play this game?" No answer again. Miss Hardbroom was never the greatest conversationalist. "All right. Let me think. Mr. Hallow retired, Cosie's Tea Room shut down - very sad, that; I do miss those custard creams, we expelled that terrible Rebecca Thistleweed character..."

"Precisely."

Miss Cackle gaped in shock for a moment. "Do you mean to tell me that you've been giving me shocks through the door handle because some silly first year turned you into a cat?" In spite of the scowl that was facing her, she started to laugh.

"And what did you do about it?"

"What did I do about it?" she took a deep breath to stop herself laughing. "I expelled her, didn't I?" The look of absolute loathing was too funny. "Constance," you'd think I swallowed a laughter potion, "what else was I supposed to do?"

Miss Hardbroom crossed her arms angrily and stared at something very interesting on the wall that Miss Cackle couldn't see. "It took you two days to change me back."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I didn't know it was you."

"And you stepped on my tail." The chilling seriousness of this accusation was too much. Miss Hardbroom spoke up over the other woman's hysterical laughter. "And you locked me in your office."

"Now, I remember that, I came and got you again," Amelia said seriously.

"I had to scream for an hour before you did."

"You woke up the whole school," she remembered gravely. "It couldn't have been all that bad. I'm sure I got you some milk or something. Besides, I had more important things to worry about than someone's lost kitty."

"Such as?"

"Such as my missing deputy headmistress, who happens to be my closest friend, and who also happens to have a habit of running mad experiments in the potion lab without telling me." Now that's got to get me some points.

"You would have known where your deputy headmistress was right away if you had implemented the reversing proposal I submitted to you only a week before."

She remembered that. It had been a very thick proposal, suggesting that members of staff mandatorily perform a reversing spell on all animals found away from their owners. "Is that what this is about?"

"If you had taken my advice, I wouldn't have been a feline for two days, would I?"

"So you decided to take your own advice. I understand. I wish you'd explained it to me sooner." There was a lengthy pause. Miss Hardbroom was too busy beating down any emotional response to her traumatic recollections to speak. "I am sorry."

"Never mind."

"No, no, you're right. I should have paid more attention to your advice."

"You don't have to. It is your school, as Mildred Hubble so gallantly pointed out to me."

"I wouldn't have a school if it weren't for you. And, it's not just that. I'm sorry for all the times I cast a slime spell on the hallway where you were walking."

"I'm sorry about the time I reanimated your lobster dinner when you were about to bite into it."

"Thank you. It was most unpleasant." She paused thoughtfully. "I don't want to leave this job, and I don't want you to leave yours either. But, we need to do something about the school."

"You said you got an interesting offer?"

* * * * * * * * *

"I've never owned a school before." Drusilla Paddock twirled around the foyer dramatically.

"One fifth of a school, you mean," Enid corrected, no less pleased at owning a portion of her old school.

"Whatever," Drusilla replied. "It's all the same."

"Well, you did it, Millie," Maud said, patting her on the arm nostalgically. "Miss Cackle gets to run her school again, they both get their money back, and... I own part of a crumbly old castle. Hmmm."

Before Mildred could say anything comforting, the doors burst open again to emit the fifth share holder, who was busily chattering into a cell phone. "I don't care if you cleaned it up, you still spilled it all over the carpet, didn't you?"

"Hi, Ethel," Drusilla said brightly, taking a moment away from admiring the school.

"I'm docking your pay!" Ethel screamed into the phone. She hung up before her correspondent could reply. "Worthless Dragonsbane," she grumbled. Then, as if taking notice of those around her for the first time, "Oh, hello."

"Hello," Mildred said cheerfully.

"Oh, Ethel, I see you made it!" Miss Cackle, looking more chipper than she had in months, walked briskly into the foyer.

"It's always such a pleasure to be back at Cackle's," Ethel said with a smile that harkened back to her youth.

"This place is great!" Drusilla exclaimed suddenly. "Now that I own it, does that mean I can go see what's in the forbidden corridors?" Without waiting for an answer, she bounded up the stairs, frightening a pair of third years who were making their way down.

"You only own a fifth of it!" Enid exclaimed, running after her.

There were several raised eyebrows, but, at length, Miss Cackle continued to speak. "Well, Mildred, I want to thank you again for all you've done," she said.

"It was nothing, really."

"Now then, would the three of you care to join me for tea?"

The (abrupt) End