#hecate you wonderful useless lesbian | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lamiaward · 6 years

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Useless Lesbianism at its finest ; or how Hecate Hardbroom really, really cannot tell platonic friendships from decades-old pining

Spoiler alert : Pippa isn’t that much better, honestly.

I don’t own the Worst Witch. Also this takes place before the finale, or the finale and a New Dawn just never happened. My personal headcanon is that there is a special potion for the worst criminals in the WW universe, which strips them from their magic (it’s basically their version of the Death Sentence).

Hecate Hardbroom terrifies even the older years sometimes, using a cultivated image that has taken years and years to build. Nearly everything about her, from her austere dresses to her low drawl is meant to terrify the girls into behaving, into making sure that the accidents are kept down to a manageable level.

Some of the girls are met with her disapproval and anger more than others. Some, like Mildred Hubble or Enid nightshade, are almost used to ( in as much as you get used to it) her barbed comments. Others, like Ethel Hallow, are spared almost the entirety of HB’s anger and disapproval.

Not this time. This time, Hecate isn’t just exasperated or “astounded by the sheer ineptitude”. The girls have never seen her like this, and they all hope they never have to again. It is as if everyone has been struck by a Medusa spell, and their expressions are properly terrified. Even Ethel’s usual arrogance is faltering, although she is too stubborn to actually admit it yet.

“ Miss… Hallow “ Hecate finally says, and several people flinch. Hecate isn’t even raising her voice but her tone is honestly poisonous. Ethel swallows, opens her mouth to say something- and is transferred away before she can say anything. Felicity stares at the spot where her friend used to be.

“Miss -?” Felicity starts to ask in a trembling voice, but miss Hardbroom cuts her off.

“ She is in miss Cackle’s office. I trust you had nothing to do with … this?”

“N-no miss Hardbroom” Felicity manages.

Hecate ignores her, and walks over to Mildred. She is still supported by Maud and Enid, who caught her when she suddenly stumbled and lost consciousness. She looks like she is having a particularly bad fever; her hair is sticking to her face by sweat, her eyes are rolling beneath nearly-closed eyelids and her cheeks are very flushed. There are some spots of lime green potion on her clothes from when she dropped the spoon in her cauldron.

“ The class is dismissed”

Enid and Maud wrench their eyes away from their best friend for a moment. “Miss- “ she doesn’t allow them to finish, but forces herself to take the girl from her friend’s hold and transfers them both into the infirmary. She immediately allows the medi-witch to take Mildred from her as she comes rushing towards them, irritated look rapidly morphing into concern.

“Miss Hardbroom?”

“ We have a situation. Ethel Hallow has put .. – “ she shows the medi-witch the vial she has had in her right hand since Felicity cracked and admitted that Ethel had put something in Mildred’s orange juice, I don’t know what, miss Hardbroom, and that is why Mildred had suddenly become so ill.

“ this in Mildred Hubble’s orange juice” she doesn’t have to say the name, as the potion is instantly recognizable, and any half-competent medi-witch would recognize it from the distinctive colour alone- it looks like melted silver bars.

“ The Vanitate potion” she says, staring at it with plain horror. “ How would that girl even get access to its ingredients, it is only made when- “

“ The Hallows never cared much for the rules” Hecate just says, remembering a moment in her fourth year of witching school where Ursula Hallow had merely raised her eyebrow and laughed when Pippa had spat against her that harming another witch like that was against the Code. There are things stronger than the code, such as real power.

Miss Grace is bending over Mildred, checking her pulse. “How much did she imbibe?”

“ 240 millilitres”

“ Did she- “

“ She seemed to have followed the recipe perfectly”

“ Figures. What is wrong with that girl?”

Hecate would like to think Ethel Hallow would not be a nuisance the way she is now if Mildred Hubble was not at Cackle’s academy, but the truth is that the girl is altogether too much like her mother.

The sound of running, and the door slamming open, cuts off Hecate’s answer. Maud and Enid stumble inside, completely ignoring Hecate’s sharp reprimand and crowding around Mildred’s bed.

“Millie!”

“ Girls. I did not give you permission to barge in here like uncivilized – “

“That’s all right, miss Hardbroom” the medi-witch interrupts, rolling her eyes. She looks at Enid and Maud. “ You can stay, but only if you keep out of the way, all right” Hecate looks at her with horror, and walks over to her, leaning in just enough that she can hear the soft whisper Hecate uses to speak.

“ Considering the…. Situation, is it wise to allow them to stay here?”

“ You have been teaching for decades Hecate Hardbroom, all that will accomplish is these girls destroying my infirmary to get to their friend again” she ignores Hecate’s affronted look, and marches over to a cabinet in the corner. She waves her hand, and takes several vials from it before marching over to a table and putting them down.

As she is measuring ingredients, the door slam open again, and Hecate flinches badly again. Before she can gather her wits enough to think of a scathing remark, it registers who the second person barging in is, and she completely loses her natural gift of pointed barbs when looking into the brown, worried eyes of one Pippa Pentangle.

“Miss… Pentangle” she says, as soon as she has miraculously recovered her ability to speak. She doesn’t mean to sound quite so distant and awkward and well, herself, but old longing makes her usual dusty social abilities worse than ever.

Pippa looks up from her place next to Julie Hubble, and manages a smile at her. Hecate doesn’t catch it, as she is too focused on where the Hubble woman is being awfully familiar, with her hand- the one that isn’t reaching for her daughter- in Pippa’s. With every passing second, she notices more about the two women- about how Julie is leaning slightly against Pippa, how Pippa is not dressed in her usual witching robes, but an old t-shirt with the words “….” , how Pippa’s hair is up in a very messy ponytail and she is not wearing any make-up. Her thoughts are racing, each one more painful than the last and-

A soft touch to her arm makes her jump. When she looks to her right, Pippa is standing to her. A quick glance away reveals that while Hecate was lost in her own thoughts, miss Hubble has walked over to the medi-witch and is talking to her in a hushed voice.

“Are you all right, Hiccup?” Pippa asks carefully.

“I am fine, miss Pentangle” she says stiffly, shoulders drawn tight and failing to focus on her breathing instead of .. whatever she feels observing Pippa and Ms Hubble being so familiar. “ I was unaware that you and Ms Hubble were this familiar” she does not intend to sound almost revolted, she really doesn’t, but decades of forcing herself to keep her foolish, disastrous feeling for Pippa Pentangle at bay has made being disdainful around Pippa almost a reflex.

There is a brief fleeting moment where Pippa’s eyes flash with anger, before she pushes it down. “ I am aware of your opinion on non-magical people, but Julie is a lovely woman and I, for that matter, am able to choose my friends without requiring your permission”

Pippa is staring at her, chin jilted up and that familiar defiant gleam in her eyes that almost makes Hecate smile. She had always been equally fond and exasperated by Pippa’s stubbornness, and there is something painful and at the same time warm in her chest at the thought that Pippa is still so willing to defend her friends.

Pippa finally breaks the eye contact, leaving Hecate’s stomach feeling as though she has mistakenly touched a fresh batch of Aruncus Dioicus. She walks over to Julie again, and Hecate watches as she hugs Julie and tells her something that makes the woman smile very briefly. Hecate looks at the door, wondering if she ought to leave or-

“Miss Hardbroom” Aye calls her name, so she walks over stiffly and looks down at the table littered with flasks, ground flower petals, very old pages that look more like papyrus than paper and potion equipment. The woman nods at the table across, which is nearly empty. “ You do the part that requires the stamping, I will mix the ingredients already”

Hecate merely nods, making everything she needs appear with a simple wave of her hand. She rolls up her sleeves and gets to work, allowing herself to get lost in the repetitive motions, the weighing and measuring of ingredients, the careful cutting of seeds and petals and the collection of the more macabre (although Hecate is so used to it, that she hardly blinks when cutting up frog’s liver) parts.

The sparse, stuttering comments of Mildred’s friends, the answers of the medi-witch to ms. Hubble’s questions, Pippa’s familiar, soft voice- it is all drowned out as she works, tirelessly grinding petals, carefully adding just enough unicorn’s tears, stirring it clockwise thirteen times and heating it all to exactly 73 degrees. By the time she looks up, her table is just as crowded (although more organized) as Aye’s, and her arms are aching slightly.

When she looks around the room, her throat closes unexpectedly. Enid and Maud are huddled around Mildred, sleeping while still holding each other. Enid, usually a sort of whirlwind, is sprawled across the bed and very still. Maud, usually the rational one amongst her friends, mutters nearly feverishly under her breath. Julie is slumped in the chair, nearly asleep but still staring at her daughter with red eyes. Pippa is sitting next to her, sometimes stroking her hair or squeezing her hand.

Hecate stretches awkwardly, freezing when Pippa looks up at her and just stares at her for a moment. There are bags under her brown eyes, but they are still observant, and Hecate shivers in the all-too familiar way. She has been astounded, confused, weary and pained because of Pippa’s focus on her, and the effect of those eyes on her has never really lessened.

She flinches when Aye grabs her arm for a moment, mutters “ you will spell a witch sooner with potions than with empty flattery, or staring, Hecate Hardbroom” and walks away to presumably do something useful as they wait for the potion to be completed. She hesitates for only a moment before quickly walking over to Pippa, and summoning the pepper-up potion she keeps in her nightstand.

“ Here”

Pippa looks at it, then takes it carefully. “ I loathe taking these” she glances at Mildred. “ But I suppose I have little choice, don’t I?”

As she takes careful sips from the potion, Hecate quickly formulates and disregards three different ways to apologize, before swallowing and forcing the words out. “ I should not have judged the relationship between you and Ms Hubble the way I did. It was unprofessional”

Pippa smiles. “ That’s a shoddy excuse of an apology, Hiccup” before Hecate has time to react (rudely, or “unprofessionally”) to it, she shrugs and says “ But I forgive you, and I apologize for my reaction”

“That is hardly necessary. You were merely defending a … friend” Pippa glances sharply at her at the way she speaks the word “friend”, but Hecate can hardly explain that it isn’t (not completely) that Ms Hubble is Ordinary, but the fact that she struggles with Pippa having all these people in her life, people more colourful, more relaxed, more sociable than Hecate could ever be. People so suited to Pippa’s warm personality, and exuberant character. People Hecate could never hope to compete with, never thought she could compete with- exactly the kind of people that Hecate thought would be much more suited to be Pippa’s friend, make her much happier.

Perhaps Pippa doesn’t completely misunderstand (although just the idea that she would know the complete reason, makes Hecate feel like that time her father had discovered she had foregone an hour of studying to stargaze with Pipa) because she just sighs slightly, and hands Hecate the potion back with a smile. “ I have always been rather defensive of my friends”

They’re both standing in almost companionable silence for a while before Pippa asks “ is the girl finally going to be expelled now?”. Hecate is almost surprised by the steel in Pippa’s voice, and all the edges, before she remembers that in their fifth year, someone had made the mistake of making the usual hateful comments towards Hecate in front of Pippa. The same edge had been in Pippa’s voice as she had first punched the girl hard enough to throw her to the ground, and then had loomed over her, words quickly reducing the girl to a terrified, wailing mess. Hecate had mistaken her own breathlessness in that moment for fear or adrenalin but she later discovered there just was something incredibly attractive about Pippa assertive like that.

“ I certainly hope so” Hecate admits

Pippa looks at Mildred again. “Hope isn’t good enough, Hiccup. This is not merely a gross violation of the Code, it is more than that”

“Pippa-“ the breath is knocked out of Hecate when Pippa looks up at her, and there’s tears in her eyes.

“Imagine how you would feel if someone were to attempt to douse the magic in you”

Hecate does not necessarily want to. Perhaps magic is too connected to her father’s expectations, to his strictness, and his refusal to allow her to prioritize anything apart from her magical studies. Perhaps it is too connected to her name’s heritage, to a dozen generations of Hardbroom successes and her father’s mistakes that sullied the Hardbroom name, and made the terror connected with almost too much magical power, too fervent study of the craft, solidify into sheer hatred. But still, magic is something precious to Hecate. It has always been there, has always made the hard time just slightly easier, gave her something else to focus on apart from her mother leaving her and her father’s mistakes. Just the thought of losing it feels as though as frostgiant has reached into her ribcage, and closed a fist around her heart.

“The girl will be expelled” Hecate doesn’t know why the sudden certainty, and the willingness to give up one of her least incompetent students, comes from. “I will personally see to it, Pippa”

Pippa stares at her, but Hecate doesn’t think her expression is one of surprise. “ Then I know it will happen” she smiles, and Hecate can’t regret the rare impulsive promise, because Morgana’s cauldron.

And then she feels like she might actually bless that impulsive decision, because she is hugging Pippa again, and it seems that her body is always starved for that (also very rare). Pippa still smells perfect, the smell of petrichor and a hint of flowers, nothing like the too-heavy scents so many witches favour which Hecate despises. Her arms encircle Hecate perfectly and she is one of the few people whose hugs do not feel stifling.

“ Thank you” she whispers, then slowly pulls back. Before Hecate can feel that loss, her cheeks flush beneath warm lips that press to her cheek for one, two, three seconds and then very slowly leave. She decides not to say anything, less she completely embarrasses herself by – Goddess forbid- stammering.

She clears her throat, nods, and makes up some excuse about needing to talk to Ada. When she has left the room, she realizes her excuse is actually true; she probably does need to talk to Ada. So she transfers herself to her friend’s office, and find her friend with a very unusual stormy expression. Ada usually remains cheery, or at least friendly, under the worst conditions, but today, her expression is nearly enough to make Hecate flinch and transfer away.

She walks over to stand next to Ada, returning her nod, and starts to make tea. As she is adding the ludicrous amount of sugar Ada takes in her tea, the woman breaks the silence. “ I have mirrored her parents. Mister Hallow was the slightly more reasonable of the two”

“ What were their reactions?” Ada doesn’t even smile at Hecate, which tells Hecate how Ada is at least as exhausted as she is.

Ada sighs. “ It is awful of me to say, but I am surprised that with parents like that, young Sybil and Esmeralda turned out the way they did. Ethel is the only child in that family that is anything like the parents”

“unfortunately so, yes” Hecate drawls. Silences between them are hardly ever uncomfortable, Ada being one of the few people that knows Hecate, and doesn’t get offended when she needs silence or makes the usual mistakes she makes when there is any kind of social interaction (professionality has always been something easy, instinctual; anything else is as foreign to Hecate as Ada’s hugs-and-cakes approach to education).

This silence, however, is tense. Hecate knows Ada well enough that the situation is affecting her immensely, and that she requires gentle words or a soft touch. Neither are Hecate’s forte, far from it, but she can try.

She takes a step towards Ada, lays a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “ The girl’s faults are her own, Ada. They are hardly a reflection of your abilities as headmistress, and the fact that we have Mildred.. Hubble running amok hardly improves the situation”

“ You have to stop blaming that girl, Hecate”

“ I am not blaming her, Ada. I am just concerned, surely you have noticed Mildred’s aptitude to attract trouble, and to completely ignore the consequences of her actions “

Ada puts her tea down, and sighs. There is a piece of cheesecake on her desk, but she doesn’t even look at it. “ If I know anything about Ursula Hallow, she will not let this matter go quietly”

“ We cannot allow her actions to remain unpunished again, Ada”

“ I quite agree Hecate, but if we are not very careful, it could mean the end of Cackle’s”.

And Ada is right, of course she is, it is why Ethel has lied and cheated and done far worse and is still enjoying her place at Cackle’s, and Hecate feels her magic protest uncomfortably beneath her skin at the thought of another Hallow getting away with near sociopathic behaviour. But the Hallows have always managed to hide their true nature behind empty pleasantry, have always wielded philanthropy as a weapon and justified their cruelty by attacking the character of their victims. Hecate had once known first-hand just how practised the Hallow family is in taking care of scandals, quietly and with frightening efficiency. Hecate might be one of the most-respected members in her field, but respect does not equal popularity, and unless Ursula would be reckless enough to suddenly challenge her to a duel, it matters nought that Hecate’s magical skills have always been superior.

They sit in the office for a long time, sipping their tea in tense silence.

Pippa is staying, Julie Hubble has moved into the infirmary and wrestling a dragon would’ve been easier than convincing Ada that Enid and Maud could not miss their chanting courses. She hasn’t slept for three days, Mrs Hallow has already threatened (in a very indirect way and with a smile that had Hecate’s skin crawling) her, Ada and virtually every teacher she ran into during her visit. Pippa is staying. She has had to balance grading, lesson plans and aiding Aye with the potion for Mildred, has taken Wide-Awake potion enough times that her supply for two months has been depleted and she has been left alone with Jullie Hubble (and an unconscious Mildred Hubble) not just one, but three excruciating times. Pippa is staying.

She walks into the infirmary, her usual check-up before her class of the day starts, when she stumbles and strong arms quickly catch her.

“Hiccup, are you all right?” Pippa is staying, and her presence is more of a health hazard than the overdose of Wide-Awake potion in some ways, her kind brown eyes more dizzying than sleep deprivation, and her voice still makes Hecate want to –

“ I- yes, fine” she manages to pull herself together, and attempts to escape Pippa’s embrace. Pippa’s arms just tighten around her, and before she knows what is happening or she can talk Pippa out of it( Pippa just rolls her eyes, and ignores her when she tries), she being half-carried away from the infirmary.

“I have classes in fifteen minutes” she protests

“ I already informed Ada you would not be teaching today Hiccup. Honestly, you look like you’ve cast your last spell, the girls will hardly benefit from you working yourself sick. Now sit down, I will make you some tea”

By this time, they had arrived in the room that was Pippa’s for as long as she was staying. Hecate had been here once before, during one of the excruciating moments she had been alone with Julie and the other woman had asked for Pippa and finally given Hecate a reason to hightail out of there. Still, she had never been there long enough to observe the small changes Pippa had made, and she was quietly observing them as she was pushed down gently on a sofa.

Pippa hands her a cup of tea, then returns to the small table next to the window. “ Have you had a proper breakfast today, Hiccup?”

Hecate sniffs. “ Toast and marmalade is perfectly acceptable, thank you”

Pippa smiles “ I haven’t had breakfast yet, so will you eat a bit more even if it is to make me feel less self-conscious?”

Hecate hesitates ; she wasn’t a fan of the sort of breakfast she knew miss Drill partook in, but nods after a look at Pippa’s hopeful expression. “ That would be acceptable”

She is rewarded with a bright smile, and Pippa dashing over to press a quick kiss to her cheek that has her stomach nearly reject her sober breakfast. She hopes the flush she was feeling wasn’t too noticeable, or that Pippa would ascribe it to the temperature (certainly higher than Hecate was used to) of the room.

Before Hecate can truly make a fool of herself, and accidentally hurt Pippa again with one of her barbs, Pippa starts talking again while she prepares breakfast. “ I am aware that using magic for this is less complicated, but the quality is always effected when you do that. And I hardly think it is fair to trouble Cackle’s staff even more, they have been so very kind in letting me stay here, and helping me coordinate my stay with my duties at Pentangle’s”

Hecate swallows a mouthful of tea. “Fortunately, the holidays are almost upon us”

Pippa sighed happily. “ Fortunate indeed. Staying here will be far less complicated as soon as the schoolyear at Pentangle’s has ended”

Hecate attempts to discreetly hide her choking on her tea. “ You.. will be staying – “ she coughs, once “ for the duration of the holidays?”

“Yes, I have already discussed it with Ada. As Mildred will not be able to return home immediately, I offered Julie that I would stay to help her”

“I.. see” Hecate touched her watch with her right hand, but it did not bring the usual calm. Her stomach continued to behave as though a band of especially rambunctious leprechauns was throwing a party in it.

“You know, I truly believe you and Julie could become friends” Pippa turns around and rolls her eyes teasingly as Hecate doesn’t manage to suppress a sneer.

“ I doubt that” she sips her tea, and adds the word to lessen the blow “ Pipsqueak”

“ Julie is very knowledgeable of Ordinary medicine, which is actually similar to the art of potions. And she might be less organized than you Hiccup, but she is still a great deal more organized than I. You will find that she keeps all of Mildred’s early pictures very well organized, for example”

Hecate smirks. “ It hardly takes effort to be more organized than you, Pipsqueak”

Pippa looks like she is going to protest, then laughs. “Well, I can hardly argue differently, as we are standing in my room” they both glance at the chaos ; at the papers in shuffled stacks on Pippa’s desk, the books that appear to have been thrown on her bed and on the ground next to it, the clothes hanging over chairs( Hecate wills her cheeks to return to their original colour when she spots a piece of lingerie next to Pippa’s bed).

“… although in my defence, I have had precious little time to organize this mess” Hecate realizes she has been distracted, distracted enough that she had missed most of what Pippa had said. She touches her watch again.

“ Am I supposed to believe you ever organize?”

“ I’ve told you, there is organization to this chaos. I can find anything I need” Pippa protests.

Hecate just arches her eyebrows slightly, and Pippa rolls her eyes again, walking over with eggs, bacon, toast and even donuts. Hecate stares at the donuts with extra scorn.

“ Pleas explain to me this miraculous system. Why is there an ancient book of runes thrown on your bed, or why are you using a dried flower as a bookmark? I assume that there is a good reason that the clothes you have worn yesterday are thrown over a chair, and that the clothes of the day before that are covering some of the papers you still need to correct, and- “ Hecate’s eyes widen and she splutters when Pippa shoves a donut in her mouth with a very mischievous smile.

“ Eat hiccup, you’re still more bones than flesh”

Hecate finally decides that eating the sugary contraption is superior to choking. But only barely. Pippa chuckles when she catches the way Hecate is glaring at her, and plucks the remaining piece of donut from her hand to practically devour it. And then-

She licks her fingers, slowly and without looking away from Hecate. Who stands abruptly, mutters something disdainful about “donuts for breakfast, honestly” and transfers to her classroom, to do her actual job. Or tries to, because she finds Dimitry there.

“ so you – “ Dimitry cuts herself up and focuses on Hecate as soon as she appears. “ Miss Hardbroom, I thought you had taken ill?”

“ I am fine” even though the room is tilting slightly.

“ You don’t look fine” Dimitry says, casting a quick look over her.

“ I am- “

“ Girls, read the instructions one more time. If I hear something, I will have you all do ten push-ups” and then she has the nerve to grasp Hecate’s arm, and pull her outside the classroom.

“ Miss Drill- “

“Listen, you look like you’re halfway down to Hades already and I have strict instructions from one pink witch to not allow you to talk your way into the classroom “

“ I hardly think that Ada – “

Dimitry grins. “ Nope. Pippa Pentangle has personally told me that if I allow you to teach and further exhaust yourself, I will “see first-hand what a star looks like because she will fling me into space”. She is real terrifying that one, if she wants to be”.

“This is ridiculous, I am fully capable to teach and – “

“ Listen Hecate, I am not going to risk being punched in the face just because you are too stubborn to admit you’ve pushed yourself past your limits”

Hecate rolls her eyes. “ Do not be foolish, miss Pentangle is a professional, who would hardly lower herself to punching you”

“Hm-hm. You really want to bet your cauldron on that?”

Hecate makes to transfer, only to be stopped by a steel grip around her wrist and even more steel voice. “ Don’t you dare, Hecate Hardbroom”

As Hecate freezes and fumbles for something to say, Pippa turns to Dimitry and smiles sweetly. “ Thank you for trying, at least”

Dimitry shrugs. “Sure. Good luck with that one” and then she disappears into Hecate’s classroom with a smile and – what did that motion she made mean?

“Pippa, let me go” Hecate hisses, but it only makes Pippa give her a frankly dangerous smile.

“ No. I am going to transfer us, as you can hardly stand, let alone walk”

“ I am fully capable of walking – “ she tries to do so and suddenly really feels how exhausted she is, and how the transfer, usually something she does effortlessly all day, has made it worse. She stumbles, and falls against Pippa. She still smells almost frustratingly good, and Hecate pretends it is just exhaustion that makes her practically cuddle into Pippa’s shoulder.

She normally dislikes other people transferring her even more intensely than Pippa does, but now she hardly notices, too distracted by the almost intimate embrace they’re sharing. Then there’s the usual tightness in her chest, and she flinches badly before pulling away. Fortunately, Pippa lets her go immediately and allows her to put some distance between them.

“I apologize for transferring you, but- “Pippa approaches her carefully, and only touches her when she notices Hecate’s breathing has evened out almost completely. And still, her touch is so gentle it is almost not there, fingers pressed very carefully to Hecate’s arm to guide her in the direction of Pippa’s bed.

“ This is all completely- “

“ Shush Hiccup. Just rest, Goddess knows you need it”

“Pippa, I am fine. Honestly “ she is trying for her most strict miss Hardbroom voice, but the effect is ruined when she has to suppress a yawn and doesn’t completely succeed. Pippa just shakes her head, and gently pushes Hecate towards the bathroom.

“ Go change, you can borrow one of my nightgowns”

Hecate would protest more, but she truly does not have the energy to argue with Pippa who is convinced she is right. That would be useless endeavour even if she had had a full six hours of sleep, and several invigorating cups of tea. So she allows Pippa to throw a nightgown in her arm, and puh her into the bathroom. She puts it on in a sort of trance, that kind that comes with not having slept for 30 hours and only sparingly before that, and hardly registers Pippa staring at her.

She falls asleep the moment her head touches Pippa’s pillow, her last thought having something to do with how it is so completely Pippa. When she opens her eyes again, the sun has almost disappeared, and she has vague memories of hands cupping her face and soft lips on her. She slowly pushes herself up – and feels her heart stutter before starting to race.

Pippa is standing in front of the window, clad in a simple but lovely nightgown that leaves her shoulders bare. The last rays of sunlight illuminate her, catching in her hair and turning it truly gold. Her feet are bare, and she seems almost frail this way, without her clogs and witching robes. Her hair is down.

“ Goddess” Hecate breaths, and is unable to move for a long while.

Finally, Pippa turns around and smiles at her. She is in a short nightdress, but Hecate doesn’t tear her eyes away from Pippa’s face. That smile is gorgeous, and she gets lost in Pippa’s eyes before she ever flicks her eyes to Pippa’s bare legs or- she stares at that smile again, returning it without thinking.

Pippa practically runs over to her, still smiling at her , and takes her hand. “ Come on Hiccup” she laughs, pointing at the window. Hecate only glances at the window for long enough that she notices the sun has disappeared completely, before she focuses on Pippa’s gorgeous brown eyes again. She willingly moves over to the window, listening to Pippa’s happy chatter

“ Remember how we could see the stars from your room? It was one of the only perks of that dark, small bedroom you were stuck in” Pippa waves her hand, and the part of the wall in front of them disappears. Hecate stops abruptly.

“What are you doing?”

“ The temperature is perfect” she squeezes Hecate’s hand. “ And I always loved laying down on the grass , and hearing you name the stars”

“ You are perfectly capable of naming them as well” Hecate hopes Pippa can still fill in the words, understands she means why would you want me to be here? And not anything else, something that can hurt her. She is aware that her words are often misinterpreted, and she is terrible at explaining herself.

Fortunately, Pippa appears to understand as she just smiles gently and says “I enjoy listening to you do it, come on” and pulls her through the opening she created. Hecate protests some more, but it is mostly for show and Pippa knows it. She summons a blanket wordlessly, and convinces Hecate to lay down it with only minimal complaining. She immediately lay down herself, although whereas Hecate was careful to remain on the blanket, Pippa scooted down so that most of her legs were on the grass.

Hecate freezes when Pippa lays her head down on her chest, turning so that she could throw her legs over Hecate’s. “ Is this okay?”

Hecate swallows. “Yes”

“ All right. Tell me about the stars, Hiccup?”

She stares down at Pippa, nestled comfortably against her as though there isn’t so much separating them. Hecate’s mistake, their choices, their differences, their-

“Stop thinking so hard, Hecate”

“ All right” Hecate answers, and starts to tell her of the stars again. She is somewhat insecure at first, not used to this like she had been when they had been so close. But she quickly familiarizes herself with pointing out the stars, telling their stories, describing the sacred rituals connected to them. They stay outside nearly the entire night, Pippa cuddled against her. Somewhere during the night, the temperature drops drastically and Hecate summons a blanket for Pippa, pretending to be annoyed when Pippa refuses to believe Hecate doesn’t need the warmth as well. She cajoles Hecate into turning on her side as well, and they cuddle together with the blanket wrapped around them. They move from the stars to other topics, potion ingredients, modern and traditional spell-casting, teaching methods, chanting- until their eyelids are drooping and Pippa tugs them both from the comfortable warmth of the blanket, insisting they cast a spell for good health and luck, weaving flowers into Hecate’s hair and thanking the goddess afterwards.

It is not technically necessary to prepare ones clothing or hair for this spell, but Pippa says she has her reasons, and Hecate doesn’t mind enough to complain about it too much. It gives her an excuse to weave flowers into Pippa’s hair at any rate, and hold her hands clasped beneath her own as the sun rises slowly.

She doesn’t stop smiling at random moments for the entire day.

Hecate had forgotten what a good friend Pippa was- or maybe not forgotten, she could never forget anything about Pippa, but the memory had faded slightly at least.

Pippa brings her tea in the morning, and rolls her eyes good-naturedly when Hecate refuses to taste any of the sugary contraptions as well. She transfers potions for Hecate’s stiff muscles that appear in her breaks, and sends her notes so she doesn’t forget to eat. She gathers flowers from the gardens when Mildred is sleeping, or both Julie and her friends are there. She discusses spell theory, potion ingredients, lesson plans and nearly any other topic other people couldn’t keep up with. She laughs at Hecate’s sarcastic comments , and forgives her the moments she says the wrong thing. She holds her hand often, goes for walks when they’re available, suggests outings for when Mildred is fully healed and they both have less on their plates. She dares and teases Hecate, cajoling her into short broom rides and playful competitions. She convinces Hecate to give Julie a chance, and gives her a new friend that way( although Pippa is still needed to mediate sometimes).

Pippa is such a good friend, and Hecate has never been more hopelessly in love with her.

She despises herself for it, but she cannot force herself to pull away again. Not now she is aware it devastated Pippa, and it likely will do so again. So she just tries very hard to minimize her staring, and reminds herself they’re friends and that feeling like that whenever Pippa holds her hand or kisses her cheek or invites her to a picknick or to stargaze or just to walk around and talk for a very long time, she is doing it because she is being friendly. The weeks that pass are simultaneously lovely and tortuous because of it.

Pippa sends her a message on her Maglet, inviting her for dinner that evening and Hecate feels like a giddy teenager when she replies that she will be there. She feels even more foolish when she actually spends time looking for a less austere dress than usual, and magicking her hair so that it is in a waterfall braid, most of her hair loose apart from a centre braid where she magics pink, tiny flowers after a long hesitation. They are supposed to also celebrate the spring properly together after all, and she knows Pippa will braid flowers into her hair either way.

She walks to the spot they have agreed to meet at the exact right time, smiling and then quickly forgetting to walk when she sees Pippa. Her hair is braided as well, and she has cherry blossoms sticking from it. Her dress reaches her ankles, and has a long slit up her right side. There is a carnation pinned to the corset. Hecate is freed from her stupor when Pippa rushes towards her, and embraces her. When she finally pulls back, she kisses Hecate’s cheek before taking her hand and pulling her towards the table. Hecate admires the flowers, charmed to float around them with gentle light, and the expensive-looking table-ware.

“This is my favourite music” she comments

Pippa smiles “I hope you like it?” she gestures at all of it, the flowers, the tableware, the wine (fey berries; also Hecate’s favourite, a guilty pleasure in fact) and peers almost shyly at Hecate.

“ It is absolutely lovely, Pipsqueak “she breaths, taking Pippa’s hand and almost kissing it before she remembers herself and instead squeezes it once.

“That is good to hear”

They have just sat down when Pippa puts her glass down, and inhales deeply. She fidgets nervously, then drums her fingers against the table. If it were anyone else Hecate would find it annoying, but it just reminds her of a young Pippa who could never sit still for long.

“Hiccup? I - “ Pippa’s voice breaks slightly, and Hecate eyes her with concern.

“Pipsqueak?”

“I am just nervous”

Hecate takes her hand again, something that has become such a frequent occurrence between them she doesn’t even pause to think. “ Surely you have prepared these spells countless times before, just because you are at Cackle’s, doesn’t mean- “

“That’s not it”

Hecate frowns. There is something going on this evening, she can tell that much, she just doesn’t know what. “Then what is?”

Pippa sighs, and Hecate grabs her other hand as well when she nearly pushes over her glass with it. They’re properly holding hands now, and Hecate gets briefly distracted by how soft Pippa’s hands are, and how she looks ethereal in the light of the enchanted flowers.

“Pippa?” she carefully pushes, as soon as she has cast off the spell that is just Pippa Pentangle’s special brand of beauty.

Pippa smiles nervously at her. “ What is your type of woman?”

Hecate pulls away abruptly, blinking rapidly. “ What?”

“ Just- humour me” Pippa shrugs. “ Answer the question”

Hecate swallows, trying desperately to avoid answering. The only answer she can think of right now is you, because she has never had a type. It has always been Pippa, and Pippa is unique. She takes a sip of the wine to avoid answering, hoping Pippa does not notice her hands are shaking slightly.

“Why?” she finally asks.

Pippa looks completely frustrated. “ Could you just answer- “

“ Intelligent” Hecate blurts, glancing away from Pippa. “Brilliant, truly. Stubborn, enough so that she does not give in when I have a certain opinion. Empathic, enough that it baffles me”

Pippa bites her lips, nods. “ And?”

“ I suppose she has to be able to understand me, well enough that she does not get hurt when I misread a situation again, or do not know how to react to her or someone else. Someone who does not ignore my flaws, but acknowledges them and helps me become a better witch. Someone who can make me smile, even in the morning” she swallows, glancing at Pippa, and says the last words very lowly, almost hoping she doesn’t hear.

“Someone who loves me as well”

Pippa stares at her, and Hecate jumps in her seat when Pippa suddenly takes her hand and brings them to her lips, kisses them. Hecate feels like she so often does, stumbling in the dark with a vague idea but no real clue about what is happening.

“Why- “

“ I want someone who is brilliant as well, Hiccup. I want someone who is down to earth, but still accepts the way I am not always, without simply going along with everything. I want someone who can be enthusiastic with me, but also acknowledges when I am getting lost in a new idea, and it simply will not work out”

“Pipsquea-“

“ I want someone who is empathic, but nurtures that kindness deep inside her. I want someone who is serious, but will be silly for me. I want someone who is passionate about her work, and genuinely cares about mine. I want someone who wants me for more than my pretty face and- “ she smiles at Hecate “ great body. I want someone I’ve known since I was a teenager, and who is frustratingly oblivious, because she has somehow missed I have been in love with her for decades”

There’s tears in Pippa’s eyes. She might not be the only one. “I want you, Hecate Hardbroom, and I have tried nearly everything to make you see that without scaring you off, but you either are completely oblivious, or really do not wan- “

For once in her life, Hecate is the impulsive one. Before Pippa can finish, Hecate has jumped from her seat and stumbled over to Pippa. She has to bend awkwardly, and a part of her is still screaming at her to stop this immediately, lest she scares Pippa away for good, but she shuts it up by gently taking Pippa’s face between her hands, and brushing her lips over Pippa’s.

Finally. She means to pull back, finish their conversation somehow (Hecate has always been better at actions than words) but Pippa stands up and really kisses her. Starts with small kisses against the corner of her lips, working towards it, before playfully tugging on her bottom lip and finally, finally giving in.

And they will have that talk later, and Hecate will be teased terribly by her girlfriend for missing all the signs but right now, Hecate doesn’t want to talk. She wants to make up for one terrible mistake, a dozen smaller ones, and decades of pining and thinking she could never have Pippa. Her insecurities are still there, deep-rooted and twisted around her heart, but Pippa makes her forget about them completely.

Right now, it is easy to just be Hecate Hardbroom, the luckiest witch in the universe, the one that Pippa loves.

I had orginally planned to also have a focus on Mildred, and how she is (not so) secretly Hecate’s favourite, but I didn’t manage to write that in. I also wanted to add some other things- more of a potential Julie/Hecate friendship ( which Hecate would probably not even admit would be a friendship lol) and Ursula Hallow being the Worst, etc but I am thinking of writing another fic that will have that to make up for it.

#hecate hardbroom #pippa pentangle #hicsqueak #sappy #no seriously wow this is freaking Fluffy wow #might edit later #sorry this is not good but at least I finished something again yay

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bonnissance · 7 years

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did this fun post (via @fortytworedvines) lead me down a fun plot!bunny path of Hecate winding herself up in knots about Dimity excluding her from staff nights, when in reality our beautiful sporty bi has simply been trying (and failing) to ask out the newest useless lesbian in Cackle’s staff aka Marigold Mould?

The answer is yes, so please enjoy.

pre-ship Dimity Drill/Marigold Mould, Hecate Hardbroom (Hackle and Hicsqueak both visible-ish and open for romantic or platonic readings) (TWW2017) teen, 2k+ CW: Feelings of isolation and unwantedness. Hecate needs some damn therapy but nothing heavier than the show.

Hecate knows she’s not the most likeable person in the world. Knows her focus and dedication to the Craft often come off as snobbish or self-centred and uncaring. That many wish she were softer, kinder, less prickly or hard to swallow.

She knows people wish she were different.

But she knows why she is the way she is, and truth be told, other people’s opinions don’t really matter to her (they used to, a long time ago, before she let hate-filled words spoken ring louder than reassurances from those with her best interests at heart and caused so much hurt in the fall out. She shut herself off, after that, and it served her well enough for most of her life; it is only now, only recently, that Hecate has truly learnt the lesson of not listening to those who simply do not care: be it the voices of others, or her mind’s own making. She will not make the same mistake again).

She also knows she isn’t the easiest person to work with, that many simply don’t see the same need for rigorous study and discipline she believes the Craft warrants, and so find her ways off putting. But she also knows she is right, that her methods help their youngest girls become the best witches they can be as they grow. Especially when paired with the softness of Miss Cackle and Miss Bat—which let their girls breath, regain their strength lest it be sapped away and leave them all brittle and easily broken—and Miss Drill’s focus on physical exertion—essential to the fitness of any witch wanting to fulfil their own potential.

She knows her ways have a place, here, at Cackle’s. Just as she knows she has a place, here, too. That within their somewhat eclectic band of educators who appreciate her talents, respect her and her abilities, and give her a space in which to use them, she has found her place in the world, finally found her home.

She thought that she had found her home.

It’s why it hurts so much, to hear she isn’t wanted here anymore. That the others don’t want her around anymore. That Dimity didn’t even want Hecate there to help celebrate her birthday.

And she can’t understand it. Because she’s sure she hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary to bother Dimity. In fact, in the aftermath of Agatha’s annihilation spell, in the wake of her and Gullet’s many, many betrayals, Hecate actually thought they were becoming quite close; that they might even have begun to bridge the space between friendly colleges and actual friends.

They’d spoken about it, over the break, when Dimity stayed put to help rebuild the castle. Spoken about what Dimity had done in their absence, and Hecate was impressed. With how strongly Dimity fought for the girls, how she kept the castle standing long enough to get everyone out, how she very nearly sacrificed herself in the process.

Dimity had played it off, pretended it wasn’t that big a deal, that any of the other teachers would have done the same. On the last point, Hecate conceded: many of their number would have done the same, if put in that position. But she also knew just how much power it took to do what Dimity had (knows what it would have cost her, has she been the witch casting, instead of trapped and helpless in that wretched painting along with Ada).

‘None of us would be here if it weren’t for you,’ she pointed out, voice clear and precise, as if she weren’t chocking on gratitude and just a hint of shame. ‘We owe you a great debt. One that I hope we may, in time, come close to repaying.’

Dimity had shrugged, looked a little speechless, her eyes a little wet; Hecate had left her to her thoughts with a heartfelt, ‘Thank you.’

Things had been decidedly warmer between them, after that, definitely friendlier (not that they’d ever been unfriendly, just more than they used to be). Which is why is actually hurts, to hear Miss Mould admit that Dimity had left her out.

Because she had never done that before. Had, in fact, gone out of her way to get Hecate to join in on a few occasions. Never talking around it like she had with Miss Gullet (It had been quite nice, actually, to not be the one left out, to know she wasn’t the last on everyone’s list. She thinks that’s the only thing she misses about Gullet: having proof that she isn’t the most hated teacher in the school. The one the girls are most afraid of, certainly. That, she knows, and doesn’t mind: a well-developed sense of respect always looks like fear, in her experience).

Because her colleagues, she was sure, appreciated what she brought to the school, what she contributed to their collective. And she doesn’t like being left out, not now she knows what it feels like to be included. She thought she’d left all this behind, but she was wrong.

It hurt more now than it ever has.

It Sticks in her throat when Miss Mould tells her; when Dimity brushes her off, pretending it was for Hecate’s benefit, not at her expense.

But she handles as best she can, manages it quite well, in fact. Until she hears it again, in the common room: her exclusion the stuff of gossip.

‘Yes, Dimity was saying during staff drinks last night—’

She stops listening, doesn’t hear the low rumble of confused whispers; looks away, doesn’t see the odd looks everyone else shoots Marigold, then Dimity. Doesn’t see the confusion in everyone else’s eyes about the staff outing that none of them were invited to either. Doesn't realise it isn’t just her.

Has no idea it’s not just her for weeks—almost a month—of Marigold’s happy voice recounting all the fun she’s been having, outside of work, with Dimity (‘What a shame everyone is always too busy to join,’ she muses one day. ‘Everyone works so frightfully hard, I hope they get a chance to join in some time.’)

If she’s heard, she might have thought harder about the frequency of these outings, about the others never attending, about Ada never mentioning anything about it; she doesn’t. Hecate has long since stopped listening.

Until Marigold spends a solid half an hour recounting the night before—her and Dimity stargazing by the North tower—and ‘isn’t it such a shame everyone has so many papers to grade and couldn’t join! It was a wonderful clear night, I’m sure you would have all had a wonderful time.’

Hecate stands silence and stiff while the rooms hums a gentle agreement (doesn’t see their shared glances, doesn’t hear the faintly whispered, ‘Bless, what a useless lesbian,’ a fond and disbelieving hush: ‘She hasn’t a clue yet, has she?’). Sneers at the fact that her colleagues would organise an evening of stargazing, an evening devoted to one of her specialties—a lesser focus that potions, she knows, but an area of expertise all the same—and not think to include her, before turning away and walking out of the room in a storm of disgust.

It’s an insult she wasn’t invited—not an oversight, or it slipped someone’s mind, and they thought she wouldn’t enjoy herself—an actual insult, to be excluded from her own specialty, something they all knew she would enjoy. She won’t stand for this anymore.

She hasn’t spoken to Miss Drill about it, not since the first time—she knows when she’s not wanted—but she resolves to now—because she doesn’t know why.

She finds Dimity walking along the tree line, accessing the perimeter for possible flying drill obstacles.

‘Miss Drill, might I have a word?’ she asks, clipped tones covering the raw emotion in her voice. She should have taken a moment to calm down.

‘Sure, what’s up?’ Miss Drill asks, light and breezy. Like she hasn’t a care in the world. Like she’s done nothing wrong. Like she hasn’t been cruel since term began.

‘It’s about these staff nights.’ She almost sneers when Miss Drill frowns at her. Like she doesn’t know what Hecate is talking about. Like Hecate has nothing to talk about. Like there’s nothing here to be talked about. ‘I understand I’m not the most social of witches, but whether or not I participate in staff related activities is for me to decide and no one else.’ The other witch opens her mouth—to rebut, deny, pretend it’s all in Hecate’s head, she’s sure—Hecate doesn’t let her speak. ‘As Deputy Head, I deserve an invitation, irrespective of my suitability for the event, or whether the rest of the staff want my attendance.’

Dimity does a very good impression of a goldfish when she’s caught out. ‘No, Miss Hardbroom, it’s not—’

‘Rest assured, I have no intention of including myself in situation where I am clearly not wanted.’

‘That’s not—’

‘But,’ she interrupts, again; finger raise in a sharp point. ‘To not even invite me is frankly rude, and I would appreciate it if you stopped excluding me from such things.’

Miss Drill looks at her like Hecate has two heads. ‘What? No! I haven’t been excluding you, I’ve just been inviting Marigold.’

Hecate sniffs, and sneers. There it is, the crux of the matter: they have a new teacher—kinder, softer, nicer—and now they don’t want her at all. It hurts far more than it ought to, and she hates herself for caring so much.

But she is, above all, Deputy Head. She has a duty to her staff, no matter what it costs her.

‘She is, I suppose, a positive addition to our collective. I’m glad she is finding her place with the rest of the teachers.’

She wonders how quickly she can transfer away without it looking like a tantrum.

‘No, Hecate,’ Miss Drill starts, taking a step forward. Hecate is thrown by her first name, by the fondness of Dimity’s voice when she says it. ‘I mean I’ve just been asking Marigold.’

Hecate blinks, incredulous. A moment ago, she was upset and self-righteous; now she’s just confused. Dimity looks at her imploringly—willing her to understand—and she doesn’t know what to say. Eventually she settles on, ‘But all those staff nights…’

‘There haven’t been any,’ Dimity says with a shrug. ‘Every time I ask her out, she assumes it’s a group invite. I went along with it the first time because she caught me off guard, but it keeps happening and I don’t know how to tell her these aren’t staff outings without actually telling her.’

‘Why don’t you do that?’ she asks without thinking, frowning and more confused than ever.

Dimity sniffs. Flashes Hecate a smug, disbelieve smirk. ‘You ever admitted you fancy someone to their face?’

For a moment, Hecate feels ten inches tall. She pouts, lips tight, and swallows. ‘Point taken.’

Dimity chuckles, then huffs out a sigh. ‘See thing is, I’m positive she’s a bit keen on me too— otherwise I’d have stopped asking ages ago—she’s always so happy to see me, and then she gets this light in her eyes when no one else arrives, but then there’s nothing after that,’ she explains dejectedly. ‘Either we have to head back to the castle which breaks the mood, or time get away from us and then it’s late and there’s class in the morning. I mean, I tried offering to walk to her to her door once, but it was hardly a sensible suggestion and it didn’t get me anywhere.’ She huffs again, looks at Hecate with a face like a kicked puppy. ‘I’m getting to my wits ends.’

Hecate doesn’t know how to handle situations like this—if she were Ada, she might offer a reassuring squeeze to the shoulders; Pippa would offer donuts or some other terribly sugary confection and find a way to make Dimity laugh—but Hecate doesn’t know how to offer reassurance, not for things like this.

She does, however, know how to solve a problem. ‘Have you considered asking her for private art lessons?’

Dimity double takes, wide eyed and happily startled. ‘No, I—I hadn’t thought of that,’ she mumbles, her face lighting up as she beams. ‘Goddess, Hecate, you’re a genius!’ Dimity yells, and pulls Hecate into a brief and startling hug.

Hecate yelps slightly, arms up and fingers tensed, and feels a laugh bubble up her throat: it shifts into a smile as Dimity lets go almost as quickly, when she sees the look on her face.

‘Thanks pal, you’re a lifesaver!’ she yells over her shoulder and she races towards the castle.

Hecate watches Dimity scurry away with a gentle smile that grows with each passing moment. Grows with the satisfaction of being helpful bubbling in her heart, the delight of having helped a friend warming her cheeks, the happiness of having a friend lighting up her whole face.

She lets herself smile a few moments longer, filing details away to recount to Pippa during their next mirror call. She wonders briefly if this feeling is why people gossip the way they do as she transfers herself outside Ada’s office door; thinks she may yet come to understand as she knocks gently and is bidden ‘come in,’ with a smile still curling at the corner of her lips.

#TWW2017 #hecate hardbroom #dimity drill #is a babe and i love our sporty outdoors bi gal so much #took on a damn falling castle and held her own #what a gal she's so fkn ripped in muscle and magic #*happy sigh*#i wrote a thing #the worst witch #this is set in a universe where mould isn't a psychic moth witch and hasn't been plotting the downfall of cackle's since she arrived #she's just a hot lady that's caught dimity's eye #get it gals #(other than it's pretty canon compliant)#also hecate is a stargazing moon loving lesbian pass it on #there is a witch i love and her name is hecate hardbroom

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amillionmillionvoices · 4 years

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hackle for @witchymoonbeams who requested ‘ada/hecate with hecate’s surprise!niece.’ I hope you enjoy it!

THIS FIC WAS WRITTEN IN AN EFFORT TO RAISE MONEY FOR BLACK LIVES MATTER. IN EXCHANGE FOR DONATIONS TO BAIL FUNDS, MEDICAL SUPPLIES, OR OTHER BLM CAUSES, I AM WRITING FICLETS FOR ANYONE WHO SENDS ME A DONATION RECEIPT. YOU CAN FIND MORE INFORMATION HERE. PLEASE DONATE IF YOU CAN AND REQUEST A FIC!

she puts the color inside of my world

Ada bounces the toddler on her lap as she watches Hecate stare down at her tea, her shoulders stiff. She can tell she needs to talk—understandable, with everything that’s happened in the last two months—but she says little, is strictly business, even as Anna giggles and swats imaginary butterflies out of the air at Ada’s conjuring.

Hecate barely looks at the child, and Ada can’t quite fault her for that, either. The little girl is the spitting image of Hecate when she was a girl—black hair she wears in pigtails, dark eyes that see too much.

In the last few weeks, since the attorney and social services showed up and all but dropped Anna in Hecate’s lap, with hardly a we’re sorry for your loss, Ada knows she’s spent more time with the child than Hecate. She’s played with her and comforted her when she asks for her mother, trying to explain in a way a four year old will understand that her mother is gone; Hecate’s sister is gone, and Hecate was the last remaining family, the girl left to her in her sister’s will. It was all so sudden, Hecate hasn’t had time to process, and Ada can tell she needs to, by the way her fingers are tight around her cup of tea, her eyes flickering to Anna and then immediately away, as if she just can’t bear it.

But she also knows she needs to be patient; that Hecate will come to her when she’s ready, when she’s able. For now, she does what she can—takes care of the little girl who is quickly becoming a part of the Cackle’s family, spends as much time with her as she can, leaving her alone with Hecate only at night. They’ve set up a small bed in Hecate’s room, with toys she brought from home, and a few new ones the staff have gifted her. There’s a new dresser with drawers full of Anna’s clothes and anything else she might need, and Hecate has done an admirable job of acquiring all the things necessary for a small child, with little fuss or complaint.

But as Anna babbles on about the butterflies, Ada watches Hecate, the tension in her frame, and wishes there was something more she could do. Wishes, not for the first time, that she could simply hold her. Press a kiss to her cheek, or her mouth. Wishes she could take away some of the burden Hecate shoulders so quietly.

Instead, she talks about budgets and the welfare of the students and Mildred Hubble’s latest catastrophe and tries at least to distract Hecate for a few moments; Hecate responds as she usually does, level-headed and sometimes long-suffering, but she still can’t quite look at them, and Ada sighs softly, chances finally,

“You know, you don’t have to do this.”

Hecate tilts her head slightly.

“You could challenge the custody. Ask social services to place her somewhere else.”

Hecate looks almost surprised, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. “A foster family?”

“Something like that.”

Her expression doesn’t change, other than a slightly pursed lip as she says, “We’ve had girls from the system here before.”

“Some are very happy,” Ada agrees.

“And some are not. Statistics are not on her side.”

“True,” Ada says, watching Hecate’s face carefully. “But you hadn’t spoken to your sister in 20 years,” she reminds her gently, “To be left with this kind of burden so abruptly is… well. It would be understandable, if you wanted to explore other avenues.”

She thinks Hecate will nod, agree, let the conversation end and leave to consider it on her own; instead, she surprises Ada, her words not quite sharp, but full of conviction,

“Anna is not a burden.”

Anna looks up at her name, stares at Hecate, and for a moment, Hecate stares back. Anna forgets about the butterflies, forgets about Ada, and it’s almost as though they’re speaking to one another, a language in looks Ada doesn’t speak.

And then Hecate looks away, and Anna climbs down from Ada’s lap, approaches her slowly and stands by her knees, arms raised.

“Up?”

Hecate swallows tightly, and Ada holds her breath.

“Use your words, Anna.”

“Up, please?”

Ada stifles a laugh as Hecate looks down at the girl with admonishment.

“Full sentences.”

Anna struggles for a moment, as if debating, then says, “Can I up, please?”

Hecate sighs, but it seems to be enough for her because she picks up the child and sets her gingerly in her lap. Anna grins, immediately reaching for Hecate’s pocket watch.

“Careful,” Hecate says sharply, and Anna freezes, looks up at her with wide eyes; Ada watches as Hecate softens, just a bit, and says, “It is fragile. Be careful with it.”

Anna nods, and gentles her touch, doesn’t try to open it, just leans against Hecate and fiddles with the watch.

“You’re good with her,” Ada says, as she’d known Hecate would be.

But Hecate flinches, and looks away. “I’m too strict.”

“Maybe,” Ada allows. “But you can learn. Anna clearly trusts you, and that’s what matters.”

Hecate is silent a long time, still stiff-spined, staring blankly at a point across the room. Ada waits, and sips her tea, and isn’t really surprised when Hecate says quietly,

“I don’t know how to be a mother.”

It’s simple, and it hurts, and Ada thinks of all the times Hecate has cared for their girls, sat with them overnight when they were sick, made them healing potions; teaching them not only magic but also how to be better witches; teaching them etiquette and language and how to stand up for themselves. She thinks of how Hecate always has the girls’ best interests at heart, even if it doesn’t always come across that way, and she smiles gently.

“You don’t need to be her mother. She had a mother, and no one can replace her. But you’re her aunt—you can be her caregiver. You can raise her and teach her magic and protect her.”

“Anyone can do those things,” Hecate counters.

“Maybe,” Ada concedes. “Then what is it you’re afraid of?”

Hecate goes quiet again, a long stretch of silence as Anna drifts in and out of sleep against her chest.

“Can I love her?” she asks then, her voice so quiet, so broken, Ada can hardly stand it. She knows how much Hecate has been through, knows her insecurities, what she views as failures but Ada finds delightfully, sweetly human.

“Oh, Hecate,” she murmurs, her voice soft, smiling gently as she nods to the two of them. “I think you already do.”

Hecate startles a bit at that, looking at Ada, then down at Anna, still holding her watch, half-asleep against her shoulder. Ada wonders if Hecate knows, if she has any idea how beautiful she is, how precious. If she has any idea what the sight of them does to her. How badly she wants to be part of their family.

And then Hecate looks up, and offers a small, timid smile, says, “Perhaps,” and it’s enough for now, and Ada vows then and there that someday, someday soon, she will tell Hecate everything. She will risk her heart, because the reward, she thinks, is so much greater than she ever imagined.

#hecate hardbroom #hackle #hecate you wonderful useless lesbian #blm fics #thank you hon!#i hope you like it!#tww17

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