Caution: Witch In Progress

by Lynne North

  ‘Well,’ Gertie finally said. ‘I’m not too sure whether it’s something I want to actually tell you, or to ask you. It’s about my Presentation.’ She paused, and looked at them both in turn, a serious expression on her face.

  You know you can tell us anything, don’t you, Gertie?’ Ma asked.

  ‘Of course!’ replied the young witch, breaking into a smile again. One was never far from Gertie’s face. ‘It’s just, well, it’s…’ Gertie had never felt so lost for words.

  ‘We’ll help in any way we can,’ Gran encouraged.

  After another pause, a wave of words gushed out of Gertie, in danger of tripping over themselves in an attempt to get out first. Almost without stopping for breath, Gertie told them everything she had read, all she had collected, how she had studied, and what she planned to do.

  It was now Ma and Gran’s turn to be quiet. They looked at each other as Gertie finally finished speaking. Both looked unsure what to say. Ma was the first to speak.

  ‘Are you sure it’s…safe?’ she asked.

  ‘As sure as I can be,’ replied Gertie, staring intently at Ma.

  ‘I mean, if something went wrong…’ Ma left the thought hanging in the air.

  ‘I know,’ replied Gertie, looking down. She then stared them in the face again, ‘but if it goes right!’

  ‘And, do you feel it will go right, my little imp?’ asked Gran, looking deep into Gertie’s eyes.

  Gertie’s clear blue eyes stared back. She had thought about this for a long time. ‘Yes, Gran,’ she replied in a confident voice.

  ‘Well then, that’s good enough for me, lass,’ Gran replied with a crooked smile. ‘I know you well enough to believe you wouldn’t do something like this if you had any doubts. So, what are you asking us, Gertie?’ she asked.

  ‘I guess I had to talk it through,’ replied Gertie. ‘I had to be sure.’

  ‘And are you?’ asked Ma.

  After only a slight pause, Gertie’s answer was a definite ‘Yes.’

  Amidst a few more hugs, Gertie’s Presentation was finalised.

  The big day soon dawned. Much too soon for Gertie. It wasn’t just the form her Presentation would take; it was being the centre of everyone’s attention while she did it. Nothing must be allowed to spoil her concentration. So much depended on it.

  The Presentations were to take place in a small extension at the back of the Academy. They had all heard that so many things could happen, and did happen, on Presentation Day. The staff therefore took no unnecessary chances with their best rooms. The building was only one storey high, with no windows. The less there was to break, the better.

  Lit only by flaming torches high on the walls, an eerie glow filled the room. It was furnished very sparsely with one, long, oak table and three high backed oak chairs. Miss Wick sat on the centre chair, with her hands clasped together on the heavy table. On either side of her sat Mr Wolfsbane, and Miss Hemlock. The first term witches and warlocks together with their familiars, were instructed to stand against the far stone wall on entering the room. From here, each would have to walk in turn to the centre of the room to give their Presentation. Gertie was dreading it. Fang looked quite excited about the whole thing. Bertha appeared half asleep.

  Once the muffled animal noises and shuffling of feet had subsided, Miss Wick began to speak.

  ‘Welcome, all of you, to your first Presentation. As you can see, the judges today are myself, Mr Wolfsbane and Miss Hemlock. The teachers used as judges are chosen at random each term, to give you all a fair chance, whatever your favourite subject.’

  Gertie secretly wished that Miss Fiendish had been there, but it wasn’t to be.

  ‘I will choose names out of this small cauldron,’ she pointed to the black object on the desk before her. ‘As your name is called, you will come forward and give your Presentation. You will then return to the group. We will make notes of your performance, but no one will be finally marked until all your Presentations have been seen. Any questions?’

  No one had anything to ask.

  ‘Right,’ announced the Head Witch. ‘We will begin!’

  With that, she dipped her hand into the cauldron and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Everyone held their breath as she opened it. No one wanted to be first, except maybe Fang.

  Miss Wick looked up from the piece of paper, met eyes with each of the pupils, then announced ‘GHOUL’

  Ghoul gulped loudly and asked ‘Me, Miss?’

  ‘You are, Ghoul, are you not?’ asked Miss Wick.

  ‘Well, er, yes, Miss,’ replied the young warlock, looking like he hoped someone else might say ‘I’m called Ghoul too!’ Obviously, it didn’t happen.

  Taking a deep breath, he lifted Charlie out of one of the huge pockets in his cloak, and stepped forwards. He then stood before the table, as if frozen to the spot. Charlie looked pale. He seemed to sense Ghoul’s unease. The chameleon was a sort of sickly pale yellow colour. A bit like Ghoul really, thought Gertie.

  ‘You may begin,’ said Miss Wick, when Ghoul didn’t start to do anything.

  Ghoul stared at the teachers, and twisted his face up. The teachers stared back. After a while, Miss Wick repeated in a louder voice ‘You may begin now, Ghoul.’

  ‘But, er, that was it, Miss,’ mumbled Ghoul, looking down at his feet.

  The teachers looked at each other, then back at Ghoul. Mr Wolfsbane suddenly seemed to realise what was happening, and took pity on Ghoul.

  ‘Ah!’ he said. ‘Is your Presentation a grimace?’

  ‘Yes, sir’ replied Ghoul.

  ‘I see. Well relax, young Ghoul. I’ve seen you do much better than that in class,’ he continued.

  Ghoul looked close to tears.

  ‘Not that your grimace wasn’t very good,’ encouraged Mr Wolfsbane.

  ‘It was?’ asked Ghoul, looking a bit more confident.

  ‘Oh yes,’ replied the warlock. ‘But, pretend we’re back in class, and do another for us. Can you do that?’

  ‘I’ll try, sir.’ Ghoul composed himself, and stroked Charlie’s head to help to concentrate. He then thrust his face forwards quickly, as taught by Mr Wolfsbane, and gave a most fearsome grimace. His face took on such an evil glare as he drooled, that even Miss Wick gave a slight intake of breath.

  All three judges began to scribble away on their notepads.

  ‘Thank you, Ghoul,’ said Miss Wick. ‘You may return to the others.’

  Ghoul appeared to feel much better now. He looked pleased with his performance as he walked back to stand by the wall. Even Charlie had turned a healthier shade of green.

  A few pupils whispered to Ghoul, or patted him on the back.

  Fang just smirked. ‘No competition,’ he muttered.

  Miss Wick was already dipping into the cauldron for the second name. As the pupils heard the rustle of paper, they all fell silent again.

  ‘MALICIA,’ called the Head.

  After a slight jump on hearing her name, Malicia stepped forwards. She looked more confident than Ghoul had.

  ‘May I say something before I begin?’ she asked, her voice a little quaky, but growing stronger.

  ‘Of course,’ replied Miss Wick.

  ‘I am about to produce fire,’ announced Malicia, more loudly and much more confidently now. ‘But due to the confines of the room, and the possible danger, I will keep the fireballs small.’

  ‘That sounds wise to me,’ replied Miss Wick, looking quite impressed already.

  ‘I want you to know I can produce them much bigger, and far more powerful,’ continued Malicia. She was clearly getting into the flow of her own importance now. Gertie thought that Malicia could already see herself being presented with the Golden Spider Award.

  ‘Excellent,’ replied the Head. ‘Now please astound us with your Presentation.’ Miss Wick seemed to be looking forward to it.

  Malicia gave quite a display. In moments, she brought fire to her fingertips with ease, and passed it from one hand to the other. She t
hen waved her hands in such a way that the small flickering flames danced around them in fiery patterns. Everyone was quite entranced. After a while of this perfectly controlled display, Malicia cast a few, small, harmless fireballs at the stone wall where they spluttered and died out. She then stood staring at Miss Wick, looking very pleased with herself.

  ‘Thank you for your splendid display,’ said Miss Wick. ‘You may now return to the others.’

  All three teachers scribbled away for quite some time, while many of the other pupils stared at Malicia in awe. Diablo had simply licked his paws the whole time, and was now proceeding to wash himself. He was the only one who didn’t look impressed at all.

  Fang didn’t even meet his friend’s gaze. Gertie knew it was because her display was pretty good, and he was annoyed.

  Everyone’s attention was soon distracted again by Miss Wick calling ‘HAGGIE.’

  Gertie felt her heart thumping in her throat every time she heard the paper rattle. She was so nervous! Her name could be called out at any time. She turned to look at Owl on her shoulder, and reached up to stroke his feathers. He obviously had no idea what was going on. He probably wished he could fly off in the open again.

  Haggie gave quite a good demonstration of the Point and the Voice. Her hand remained steady, and her voice commanding. Miss Hemlock looked particularly impressed. Haggie even managed a good point with each hand, which would give her extra marks.

  Miss Wick didn’t look as impressed as she had been with the fireballs, but she scribbled away nevertheless.

  It wasn’t long before all the pupils were holding their breath again as the Head Witch dipped into the cauldron. Holding up the next piece of paper, she hesitated. Gertie was sure that Miss Wick did this on purpose to add to the suspense. After looking around at all the anxious faces again, she called, ‘BERTHA.’

  Gertie jumped. Oh gosh, Bertha was right next to her. That was too close for comfort. Bertha didn’t move, so Gertie gave her a nudge. Bertha had been leaning against the wall and, Gertie suspected, snoozing with her eyes open. That was something she had cultivated quite well in the last few weeks.

  ‘Huh?’ asked Bertha.

  ‘BERTHA,’ called Miss Wick again.

  ‘Oh, is it my turn?’ asked the big girl, not looking too bothered at all. She left Jasper where he was, snoozing in a dark corner. Bertha picked up her broom from where it was leaning against the wall, and waddled to the centre of the room.

  ‘Can I put something on your table, Miss?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, you may,’ replied Miss Wick.

  Bertha reached into the deep pockets of her cloak and took out several small cakes and unwrapped chocolate bars. She placed them carefully on the table.

  ‘Uhm, could I just ask if these have anything to do with your Presentation, Bertha?’ asked Miss Wick, rather puzzled.

  ‘Oh yes,’ replied the big girl. ‘They play a vital part.’

  Some of the pupils giggled, but fell silent at a glance from Miss Wick.

  ‘Then please proceed, Bertha,’ encouraged Miss Wick. ‘Begin your Presentation.’

  Bertha, with a struggle, lifted her fat leg over her broomstick and sat astride it. Muttering a few words, she rose easily into the air. Only a few feet high. She then proceeded to make a slow but controlled ride around the room. The teachers scribbled a few notes. Bertha then paused in mid air with her back to the wall, and waited until she had their full attention again. Next, she stared hard at one of the cakes on the table. As Bertha began to move forwards again, so the cake began to rise. As Bertha flew slowly past the table, the cake headed into her mouth.

  Gertie clapped in delight, then remembered where she was and tried to shrink further into the shadows. This was good though!

  Bertha made the ride back and forth several more times, with a cake or chocolate bar reaching her mouth each time. She seemed to be enjoying herself, now she was chewing.

  After a while of watching Bertha go back and forth, Miss Wick said, ‘Thank you, Bertha, I think we can see what you have achieved. Good control by the way.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss,’ replied Bertha. ‘I can do it some more if you like. There are cakes and bars left!’ She didn’t appear to be keen to stop now.

  ‘No, that’s fine, Bertha. Please rejoin the others,’ assured Miss Wick.

  Bertha, looking a little disappointed, went to collect her remaining goodies then waddled back to Gertie.

  Gertie beamed and hugged her ‘That was fantastic, Bertha!’ she whispered with enthusiasm.

  Bertha looked quite pleased with herself.

  Gertie was too busy to notice Miss Wick reaching into the cauldron again. She only knew that the teacher must have when her voice announced, ‘FANG’

  Fang grimaced, and walked forward purposefully, his face proud and confident. He had his speech all prepared. ‘What I am about to accomplish, is something that will impress you all,’ he began; speaking like a showman at a fair Gertie had once been taken to. ‘Not only impress you, but leave you in awe, even.’

  ‘Just get on with it please, Fang,’ interrupted Miss Wick.

  Gertie was pleased. She suspected Fang would continue to go on, and on.

  Fang nodded, but clearly not wanting to lose the atmosphere he was producing, he continued. ‘Witches and warlocks, prepare to be amazed. I, Fang Malign, am about to summon a Demon…’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A shocked silence filled the room. Miss Wick finally broke it.

  ‘Are you sure it’s wise, Fang? You are, after all, only a first term student. Have you made all the necessary preparations and precautions?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ replied Fang with impatience. Clearly, this was his big moment, and he didn’t want anyone delaying or spoiling it. ‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’

  ‘Very well, young warlock,’ agreed Miss Wick, who seemed sure he wouldn’t be able to accomplish it anyway. ‘Off you go.’

  Gertie watched Fang immediately begin to wave his arms and mutter strange, old, arcane words of power.

  ‘Just a moment, Fang,’ interrupted the Head Witch again. ‘Don’t you intend to draw a pentacle on the floor to contain the demon, place candles at the points, and surround it all by an unbroken barrier of salt?’

  Fang frowned, then replied, ‘All that mumbo jumbo isn’t necessary the way I do it. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.’

  Waving her hand with a confidence that nothing would happen while Fang was not following any true procedures, Miss Wick bade him to continue. She seemed to believe there was no danger involved.

  Fang began again, seriously speaking the ancient words in a very commanding voice. He would get good marks for the voice at least, Gertie thought. Some of the words, even Miss Wick didn’t seem to know, judging by her expression. The young warlock had obviously done some deep study, much to his credit.

  When the rumble began, no one looked more surprised than Miss Wick. Her shocked expression said, surely not? Surely he couldn’t?

  Encouraged by the noise, Fang’s voice rose. His hands waved madly as he faced the spot where the rumbling was coming from. The floor began to shift and crack.

  ‘Enough, Fang!’ called Miss Wick ‘Stop now, boy. You have done enough to impress us!’ There was a degree of fear in her voice.

  Fang was too far gone in his own power and importance to listen. Still saying the ancient words louder and louder, he watched as the crack became a hole, opening even wider. Soon, a sulphurous smell began to fill the room.

  ‘It wasn’t me!’ called Ghoul, who was usually to blame for such smells. No one found that amusing right now. They were too busy watching the hole in the floor, dreading what might come out of it. Gertie wasn’t sure she believed this was really happening. Was it a bad dream? She’d had a few of those about Presentation Day. No, this was too real. Fang was actually going to summon a demon!

  Before anyone had time to grab and gag Fang, run, or even faint, there before them loomed an awesome sight.


  Fang had time to yell ‘Yes!’ and punch his fist into the air, before he suddenly seemed to realise what he had done. He gulped as he stared up at the demon rising high above him. His face then became smug again. ‘I have no need to worry. I’m the Master, right?’ he said.

  The demon loomed as high as the ceiling, and indeed had to stoop to climb out of the gaping hole it had smashed through the flagged floor. It grinned. Well, it looked like a grin, in that its yellow slavering fangs showed all too clearly. Stretching his rough, red arms wide (and knocking two holes in the ceiling), the demon peered at the dumbstruck faces all around him, and bellowed, ‘AT LAST!’

  The room was strangely silent. Everyone was too amazed to make a sound. More to the point, they didn’t want to draw the demon’s attention to themselves.

  Miss Wick obviously decided it was time to take the situation in hand a little. At least while the walls were still intact.

  ‘Uh, hm.’ She cleared her throat rather nervously. ‘Yes, Fang. Very good. Now, could you send him back please, my boy?’

  Fang stopped grinning at the demon, and asked, ‘Back?’ His yellow skin flushed to an orange colour.

  ‘Yes Fang, back,’ replied Miss Wick, looking as calm as anyone could be when a demon was laughing in a deep, rumbling, echoing chortle. He must have been in a good mood. A very good mood actually. Everyone was still alive.

  Fang stared at the demon again, and the demon stared back. Somehow, for some strange reason, Fang didn’t look quite in control of him. This clearly wasn’t going as planned. He seemed to be waiting for the demon to bow to him and offer him wishes or something. Or was that a Genie?

  Fang screwed up his face in deepest concentration, then his expression changed to pure panic. ‘I’ve done my bit’ he said. ‘I summoned the demon. The proof is right there in front of you, ripping chunks out of the ceiling. Isn’t it someone else’s problem to send him back?’

  The demon was in the process of demolishing the ceiling completely, probably so he could straighten up fully and get a better view. Dust and debris flew all over, but no one dared to sneeze. Fang looked at Mr Wolfsbane, anxiety etching his face. The teacher appeared as alarmed as everyone else. What could they do? Bits of plaster and wood showered down on the young witches and warlocks.