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Settling herself on the chair in front of her vanity, Hecate smoothed her dress and adjusted her watch on its chain as she waited for Pippa to appear at their appointed time. Their regular chats had begun rather awkwardly, and they still weren’t nearly to the same level of comfort with one another that they’d had as children, but she’d begun looking forward to seeing the other witch and recounting the various misdemeanors of her students. That was not to say that she didn't struggle with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation every time Pippa was due to call. Hecate hadn’t yet worked up the courage to initiate their conversations. It wasn’t cowardice, she argued, rather consideration. It wouldn’t do to impose upon the Pentangle’s headmistress if she was too busy to call herself.
And so she waited.
Sometimes Pippa would appear, other times she would not, her lack of appearance unfailingly accompanied by an apologetic explanation delivered via maglet. Hecate had to admit that the infernal things were, on occasion, useful. Whether they spoke or not, Hecate was always ready at eight precisely.
When Pippa had first mirrored a few days after the spelling bee, she’d been startled, utterly unprepared to find the blonde grinning back at her as she unwound her hair before bed. She had gritted her teeth at the interruption to her schedule, but allowed it and attempted to mask her discomfort. After all, she owed Pippa whatever pleasantries she cared to elicit after what Hecate had done to her.
She was in two minds about that. One part of her absolutely refused to accept that losing Hecate could have done anything but benefit Pippa, while the other screamed in agony that she could have been responsible for causing her any amount of pain. As a result, seeing her once-friend always threw her carefully controlled emotions for a loop, leaving her snappish and defensive and hurting. Not to mention all her other roiling feelings that she had to keep tightly in check, lest Pippa ever find out.
In an effort to retain some semblance of composure, when Pippa effusively suggested they mirror often (“I have so missed talking to you, Hiccup.") she had been the one to offer, “Perhaps we ought to set a time that would be acceptable to call, so as not to take away from our duties.”
A flicker of… something, had lit in Pippa’s eyes at her acquiescence, before she smiled with a glint of victory and answered back, “Alright. I’ll mirror every day at let’s say, eight o’clock?”
Stunned by the regularity she suggested, Hecate had managed to protest, “We can’t possibly mirror every day, we both have schools to run, Miss Pentangle.”
“Alright, I’ll mirror at eight when I can, and send a message if I can’t.” Without pausing for a reply, the pink witch added, “Sleep well, Hiccup.”
And with a wink, Hecate had been left with the understanding that she’d have to get used to Pippa being in her life again. She really never could refuse her much of anything. Why Pippa cared to ask things of her of all people was an eternal mystery.
So lost was Hecate in her thoughts that she missed the ticking of the clock past the hour and was spooked by the sudden chiming of her mirror.
Pippa Pentangle appeared with a smile and Hecate accepted the call, once again fidgeting with her necklace as she schooled her features into a neutral expression.
“Well met, Hecate,” she greeted, reaching up to remove her hair from its restraints. It had recently become a feature of their conversations for Pippa to begin preparing for bed as they spoke, a habit Hecate found flustering for a variety of reasons. As Pippa set her various hair ornaments on her vanity she inquired, “How was your day?”
Clearing her throat Hecate drummed her nails on the table as she pieced together a reply. “It was… adequate. As usual there was one disruption after another, though for once we ended the day rather better than it began, at least as far as the girls are concerned.” She paused, before continuing with long suffering exasperation tingeing her voice, “It was Ada’s birthday, so I had to cancel lessons and let the girls prepare for the pageant. Though of course they couldn’t even manage that properly.”
Pippa rolled her eyes as she let down her hair, blonde locks draping fetchingly around her face. “And how did everything go wrong this time?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea. When I realized they had absolutely no structure or leadership I put Ethel Hallow in charge. Somehow she ended up the only performer in a ten part instrumentless orchestra.” Cringing at the memory, she snipped, “it was a debacle. I had to tell Mildred Hubble and her co conspirators to intervene.”
Pippa rested her chin in her hand and leaned onto her desk, gently shaking her head, “You know I’d never tell you how to teach, Hecate, but that Hallow girl is trouble. She probably ran all the other girls off with her bossy, better-than-thou attitude.”
Hecate let out a small “hm" that was neither agreement nor denial and began straightening the few items that lay on her vanity in an effort to distract herself from the witch across from her. “That as may be, the girls managed to pull together a show that at least cheered Miss Cackle for a bit, even if it lacked finesse or any sort of talent.”
“Now, Hecate, pageants are for fun, not technical mastery. You never did quite grasp that concept.” The chastisement was delivered without conviction or accusation, but it still cut deep as she noticed the small flicker of old hurt in Pippa’s eyes.
Quick to move past her own shortcomings, Hecate continued, “You will not believe what Mildred and her cohorts chose to perform.” If a small smirk graced her lips at the memory, well, only Pippa was there to see.
The pink witch lit up at the mention of her favorite Cackles student. (How that had happened Hecate has no idea.) “I’m sure it was spectacular.”
“Well their act didn't include any magic, so fortunately there were no near fatalities,” she couldn’t resist remarking.
Pippa splayed a hand across her chest in mock surprise, “Hecate Hardbroom! Was that a joke? I’m impressed.”
“It was sarcasm, Pippa. And a well founded judgement of Mildred Hubble’s level of control. You do recall the other day she transformed into a bat and nearly forgot herself in the process?”
The other witch rolled her eyes, “Yes dear, you went on at length about it. Now go on, you were telling me what Mildred and her friends performed for the pageant.” An encouraging grin accompanied the blonde witch combing through her hair and magicing herself into a comfortable nightgown.
Hecate gulped for entirely unrelated reasons, obviously. She might as well say it, she mused, it would make Pippa laugh and she did so enjoy the sound when it was genuine and not at her expense.
“They performed a caricature of the Cackle’s teaching staff,” she explained, avoiding eye contact and fiddling with her nails in an attempt at nonchalance. It really had been entertaining. “Maud Spellbody portrayed Miss Cackle, Enid Nightshade was Miss Drill, and Mildred Hubble…" she paused for effect, glancing back up at Pippa and smirking in faux-disdain, “was myself.”
Pippa’s eyes had widened steadily as Hecate spoke, a brilliant grin of amazement spreading across her face. “You’re telling me that Mildred Hubble dressed up as you in a pageant? Oh Hecate darling, please tell me you didn't hex the girl.”
Hecate tilted her head upwards, quirking an eyebrow as she replied in a slightly brusque tone, “I’ll have you know I actually commended her performance.”
“Oh dearest, the two of you are far more alike than you realize. You know she reveres you, that probably made her whole week. What did you say to her?” She bit into a donut she’d summoned from the school kitchens, her usual evening snack that Hecate could not understand, both in terms of sugar content, and Pippa’s figure.
“Fears me, perhaps. I believe I said something along the lines of what bravery it took to mock me, and that she had done well,” she drawled, one side of her mouth twitching upwards in a small smile.
Pippa grinned in reply, gesturing towards Hecate with her treat and flinging crumbs all across her own table. “See, you just have to let your marshmallow center show every once in a while Hecate. Those girls know you care about them even if you play the part of a strict old porcupine. Now tell me more about Mildred’s performance, I’d have given my broom to see that.”
Brushing off the assessment of her personality, which was certainly absolute nonsense, Hecate answered, “I’m sure Felicity Foxglove managed to record it somehow. She is absolutely everywhere these days with that reporting of hers.”
“Fair enough. Also, do pass my birthday wishes on to Ada. I had meant to send her a message earlier today, but I got caught up supervising the third years' chanting demonstrations.”
Hecate nodded as she tilted her head, attempting to subtly stretch her neck and relieve the headache her tight hairstyle was beginning to give her.
Pippa noticed her discomfort, and suggested, not for the first time, that Hecate let loose a little. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you with your hair down before, Hiccup.” If she seemed a bit wistful at the thought it was only Hecate’s mind playing tricks on her.
Still, her head was hurting something rather fierce. “Well, it wouldn’t do to set a poor example for the girls when I have to make my rounds in a bit,” she acquiesced, reaching up and beginning to remove the pins holding her braid in place.
“That’s right,” Pippa replied, leaning back in her own chair and crossing her legs. “So how is Ada? You said the pageant managed to cheer her, surely she’s had a pleasant birthday?”
The tension that releasing her hair had momentarily alleviated seized Hecate’s shoulders once again. “Ursula Hallow,” she bit out, “badgered her all day with messages, and before we retired, the Great Wizard himself appeared in her office,” she finished gravely.
Pippa’s eyebrows drew together in an uncharacteristic scowl. “That horrid witch! She always was one to make trouble for others, but what issue could she possibly have with Ada that involves the Great Wizard?” Pippa scoffed with blatant irritation, “As you tell it, her girls already get away with far more than any pupil ought to as it is, thanks to her connections.”
Hecate inwardly cringed at the reminder as she unwound her plait. Most days she tried to ignore the Hallow girls' parentage, while also accounting for their relative safety from serious punishment, but Ethel had a ruthless streak that brought to mind rather unpleasant memories from her own school days. Ursula Hallow and her ilk had not been kind, to put things simply.
“I’m well aware, Pippa, but Esmeralda Hallow lost her magic and her mother seems to hold Ada personally responsible. Mister Hallow certainly didn't help matters with his appearance the other day. Young Sybil’s mishap with a wildfire spell made the papers.” Hecate carded her fingers through her hair with a bit more roughness than it deserved, wincing as she caught a small tangle.
Pippa flinched in sympathy, commenting, “That’s rather unfortunate. But the Great Wizard?”
Hecate stilled, resting her hands in her lap as she met Pippa’s eyes through her own lashes. She spoke even more slowly than usual, a hint of desperation in her voice, “Miss Cackle has been summoned before the magic counsel, for a hearing to determine whether she is fit to remain headmistress. I am to run the school tomorrow in her absence.”
“Oh, Hecate. I’m quite sure it will come out alright,” Pippa’s voice is soft as she attempts to reassure her. “She’s a very capable head teacher, they can’t possibly remove her over the actions of her sister and a few standard first year mistakes.”
“Normally I would agree, but you know what Ursula Hallow is like.” Her clipped tone betrayed her anxiety as she voiced her concerns, “I fear she has a vendetta against Ada and will not stop until she no longer runs this school.” Her stomach tightened with worry at the thought.
Pippa took in Hecate’s visible distress and resolved to do whatever she could to help with this debacle. “I’m sure it will come out alright, Hecate. Now, isn’t it time for your evening rounds?” Her eyes sparkled as she quoted, “Structure is very important in this troubled time.”
The black-clad witch took in the soft countenance of her friend as she invoked one of her own deeply held convictions. With a deep sigh she raked her nails through her hair, drawing the top part back into a clip. “You’re quite right, Pippa. I should have an early night if I’m to run the school as well as teach my classes tomorrow. Good night.” Her look of concern took on a softness as she paused in her motion to end the call, quietly adding, “Thank you, Pippa.”
“Always, Hecate. Good night darling.”
The mirror cleared, leaving Hecate to face her own troubled countenance. With a quick gesture her dress was hung in her wardrobe and she was clad in her nightclothes. They would get through this. The school had certainly faced worse.
Tucking her ever-present watch under her housecoat, she strutted out into the halls to make her rounds. If she took comfort in the memory of Pippa’s concerned smile and murmured reassurances, well, no one could fault her for it. After all, Miss Pentangle was, as Felicity Foxglove so often asserted, the most wonderful witch in the world.