Caution: Witch In Progress (6 page)

Gertie
was looking forward to her first real lesson, but not without some anxiety. She
was thinking of the spells she had tried and failed (quite miserably). At least
only Ma and Gran had known about them. Now, she would be in a class full of
other witches and warlocks, some of them quite nasty. She also didn’t know much
about Mr Wolfsbane, but he looked quite stern. He did, in fact, look like a
wolf. His black hair was swept back meeting in a point on his forehead, and his
teeth were huge, making his whole jaw jut out. Gertie hadn’t heard him talk
much, but even his voice sounded a bit like a growl. He also looked very hairy,
even the backs of his hands and his pointy ears. Mr Wolfsbane was the teacher
for the Grimace class. He looked like he would be very good at it.

    Gertie and Bertha spent some time practising their grimaces
together. Every attempt had only ended in fits of laughter. Gertie could manage
little more than a lopsided smile, no matter how mean she wanted to look. When
Bertha tried, her eyes goggled, her chins wobbled, and she turned a bright
shade of red as if about to explode. Gertie couldn’t help but splutter every
time she did it.

    As they recovered from yet another laughing fit, they decided
that if they could grimace already, they wouldn’t need the lesson. They would
wait to be taught by the expert to do it properly. At least neither of them
felt alone in their worry any more.

    Gertie and Bertha arrived early for their class. The idea was to
make sure they could get seats at the back. They hoped they might avoid being
noticed there, and not get asked to do anything.  As it happened, Fang and his
growing crowd of admirers were already there, sat right at the front. Gertie
should have known. Fang had always been a show off. He probably had a wonderful
grimace planned, and couldn’t wait for his chance to show everyone.

    The room soon filled up. Everyone seemed quite eager to start
their first real witchery class.

    When Mr Wolfsbane walked in, they all fell silent immediately.
Gertie wasn’t sure whether it was out of politeness, or a bit of fear. Mr
Wolfsbane really was scary to look at. He stared around at everyone with his
dark eyes peering from under heavy eyebrows. Gertie tried to make herself a bit
smaller when his eyes rested on her for a moment, but his gaze soon passed on.
Once the teacher was sure everyone was there, he began to speak.

    ‘Hello, everyone,’ his deep, gruff voice rumbled. ‘Welcome to
your first class. If you are all prepared to work hard, then I’m sure we’ll get
along fine.’

    That last part almost sounded like a threat. Gertie looked over
at Bertha who had turned quite pale, and decided to work very hard.

    ‘I am Mr Wolfsbane,’ the warlock continued. ‘And I am about to
teach you The Grimace.’

    With that, he quickly thrust his face forwards and grimaced so
horribly, accompanied by a fearsome growl, that the whole class made shocked
shrieks. Even Fang did, to Gertie’s surprise. She had to admit though; Fang was
the nearest pupil to Mr Wolfsbane at the time. It looked to all in the room,
including Fang, that the teacher was lurching forwards to eat him.

    Once the class settled down again, Mr Wolfsbane smiled. It was
not quite as frightening as his grimace, but was close.

    ‘That, was a grimace,’ the teacher continued, clearly pleased by
the reaction. ‘And that, is the response you will be aiming to get from your
victims.’

    ‘Oh dear,’ Gertie said very quietly.

    Bertha looked like she was trying to disappear under her desk.
She had no chance, but it was wobbling dangerously.

    ‘Now,’ continued the warlock. ‘Let’s see. Who shall we have
first?’

    He looked around as Gertie tried to shrink even smaller. Bertha
was now stuck half way between her chair and under the desk.

    The teachers gaze rested on someone on the front row, and he
exclaimed ‘Oh yes. Oh, that’s wonderful! What a fantastic first grimace.’ He
approached the young warlock. Gertie heard a muttered reply from the boy, but
couldn’t catch what he said.

    ‘Oh,’ replied the teacher, sounding a little shocked. ‘You’re
not doing it yet? Oh, well, uhm, congratulations, Ghoul is it?’ The boy nodded.
‘Right, yes, congratulations on having such an, uhm, such an appropriate face
for this class, Ghoul. I’m sure you’ll do well. Right then, uhm, moving on…’

    ‘Could I try, sir?’ asked Fang, his hand raised.

    ‘A volunteer, wonderful,’ said the teacher. ‘Yes, certainly.
Fang, isn’t it?’

    ‘Yes, sir.’

    ‘Right, good. Off you go then. Give it all you’ve got. Try to
scare us all.’

    Fang gave his grimace all the effort he could.

    ‘Oh yes,’ encouraged Mr Wolfsbane. ‘Very good, Fang. Notice the
drool, class. That’s a very nice touch. Okay, one thing to always remember is
that a good grimace is vital to true spell formation. Without a good grimace,
there is always the possibility you won’t be taken seriously. Open your desks now,
and you will find a book, “Perfecting Your Grimace”. I want you all to read the
first three chapters before our next class. You will also find a mirror in your
desks, and a notebook and pen. I want you all to practice your grimace
remembering these three important points. Take this down.’

    He turned to the blackboard and wrote:

1) Grimace with feeling.

2) Let your grimace become a part of your spell, and a part of you.

3) Above all, MEAN IT.

    Gertie opened her notebook and jotted down the three points. She
hoped they would help her, but didn’t feel too confident yet.

    ‘Okay, class,’ continued the teacher. ‘Into your
mirrors…GRIMACE.’

    Gertie tried. Her face smiled back at her. She tried again. Her
reflection looked worried. She suddenly had the feeling she was being watched.
Looking away from her mirror, she saw that Fang had turned to stare at her. He
obviously didn’t think he needed to practice his grimace at all. He laughed,
and said something to the tall witch sat next to him. Gertie recognised her as
Malicia. She laughed too, and also turned to watch Gertie.

    Mr Wolfsbane was walking between the desks taking a look at
everyone’s attempts, giving advice or praise where he thought it necessary.

    ‘Excellent, yes. Try showing a little more teeth, Lucyfer,
that’s it. Good. Can you manage a squint, Hexa? Oh good try. Like the sound of
that, Clawd, really mean.’

    He seemed to suddenly become aware the class were watching
something else, and noticed Fang.

    ‘Is anything wrong, Fang?’ he asked. ‘Would you like to share
the joke with us all?’

    ‘No, sir,’ grinned the young warlock. ‘There’s nothing wrong.
I’m just wondering how someone who doesn’t even look like a witch will be able
to make a grimace,’ he added smugly.

    Mr Wolfsbane clearly knew who the boy was referring to.

    ‘That’s better, Gertie,’ Mr Wolfsbane addressed her. Gertie
glanced back at the mirror and realised there was a different expression on her
face. It even looked a bit mean. ‘You need to feel it, mean it, Gertie,’ he
added. ‘And, yes, get angry. It will help. You, Fang, attend to your own
grimace,’ he added rather sternly.

    Fang turned quickly back to the front, quite in shock. He was
used to everyone agreeing with him, and didn’t seem to like this new turn of
events one bit.

    ‘Keep trying, Gertie,’ the teacher added, moving on to Bertha.
He pulled her desk away slightly so she could sit up again. ‘No time for
sitting back relaxing, Bertha,’ he said. ‘Into your mirror now, grimace.’

    Bertha gave of her best, and looked about to burst a blood
vessel. Mr Wolfsbane patted her on the head with a ‘Keep trying, you’ll get
there.’

    Gertie felt better, much better. Maybe Mr Wolfsbane was alright
after all. He had sided with her against Fang! She looked back at the mirror
and tried again. A smile. She thought of Fang trying to show her up in front of
everyone, and tried again. Oh yes, she almost frightened herself! Now she knew
what to do. Just think of Fang, and get angry.

    Gertie also found that her grimace looked even better if she
narrowed her eyes a bit too, because then no one could see how big and innocent
they were.

    She watched Mr Wolfsbane move from Bertha to the next desk, his
shoulders shaking. Gertie felt sure he was trying not to laugh. She saw him
turn to look at her from across the room, and smile. Gertie decided he liked
her. What he clearly didn’t like was pupils picking on others. It wouldn’t happen
in his class.

    By the end
of class, Gertie didn’t think she had done badly at all. For her, that was
really good. She said as much to Bertha as they walked backed down the
corridor. Bertha was munching her way through her second chocolate bar to calm
her nerves after the stress of having to stay awake for a full lesson.

    ‘Mr Wolfsbane is quite nice, when he’s not grimacing,’ Gertie
concluded.

    Bertha said she wasn’t so sure. He didn’t let anyone get away
with anything. Not even eating or sleeping in class.

    Gertie went back to Bertha’s room with her for a while. They
decided they would read the first three chapters of “Perfecting Your Grimace”
together so they could discuss anything they didn’t understand.

    Bertha’s room wasn’t as nice as Gertie’s, as it only overlooked
the moat and blasted heath. Apart from that though, it was very similar. Jasper
raised an ear as the girls went in, and gave one weary flop of his little tail.
That was about as much energy and enthusiasm you ever got out of Jasper, unless
you were offering him something to eat. Bertha’s familiar, Jasper, was a very
overweight pug dog. Bertha agreed that Jasper hadn’t helped her much more with
her spells than Owl had Gertie, but she loved him anyway.

    Gertie stroked the rolls of fat around Jasper’s neck while he
nodded off again. He only opened his eyes when Bertha rattled a packet of
biscuits she brought out ‘to help us concentrate.’

    Gertie nibbled at one while she concentrated on the text book.
It made a lot of sense, and even mentioned the benefits of having an Evil Eye
like Gran. Not that it mentioned Gran in the book, but Gertie immediately
thought of her. She wondered if she stared for a while, without blinking, if it
would make her eyes go red. It didn’t. It just made them water. Bertha asked
her why she was crying, offering her a consoling biscuit. Gertie decided the
unblinking stare wasn’t a very good idea. It would be no use at all if her
victim thought she was crying.

    That was something else Gertie didn’t understand either. Why
would anyone want to harm a victim? They would have to do something terrible to
Ma or Gran, or Owl or Wart (maybe even to Bat), for Gertie to want to harm
anyone. And then she probably wouldn’t want to harm them very much. She wasn’t
entirely sure she had the right idea about witchery. Everything she was told
seemed to be aimed at doing nasty things to other people, and Gertie didn’t
know why. Maybe she would when she grew up to be a real witch. No matter what
happened, Gertie never doubted she would grow up to become a true witch. Her
Gran had told her so, and she was always right. Well, almost always.

    The book said when you were casting a spell on someone, it was
usually because you were angry with them. This wasn’t always the case in Vile
Vale, or maybe some witches got angry more quickly than others, thought Gertie.
The anger would help to form the grimace, the book added.

    ‘I worked that one out for myself in class!’ shrieked Gertie.

    Bertha and Jasper both jumped. They were beginning to doze
again, the biscuits nothing but a pleasant memory.

    ‘What?’ asked Bertha, bleary eyed.

    ‘Are you not reading your book?’ Gertie asked.

    ‘It put me to sleep,’ replied Bertha in a drowsy voice.

    So do most things, thought Gertie, but left Bertha to it while
she continued to read.

    An hour later when Gertie tiptoed out to go back to her own
room, Bertha and Jasper were both snoring loudly.

Once
Gertie had read her assigned chapters (twice), she also read chapter four for
good measure. She was determined to stay on the good side of Mr Wolfsbane. Not
just because he was scary, but because he had stood up to Fang for her too.

    She was now free until the gong went for evening meal, so she
decided to go to check on Wart. Owl was out somewhere, hopefully not getting
into any mischief. He seemed to be more used to his surroundings and finding
his way about now. He had gone knocking on Hexa’s window a couple of times over
the first few days at the Academy. Hexa’s room was next to Gertie’s, so he
wasn’t too out of his way. Hexa wasn’t what Gertie could call a friend, but at
least she had been kind to Owl. She had let him in through her window, and
brought him round to Gertie’s room. Gertie had thanked her, and asked her in,
but Hexa had made polite excuses not to come in. Gertie understood. Everyone
wanted to be part of the “In Crowd”, and associating with the “Oddballs” as
Gertie had heard herself and Bertha described, was not the best way to join.
Owl had been getting the right window since then, so Gertie had seen little or
nothing of Hexa apart from at meals or in class. At least Owl was settling in.

    Gertie set off down the stone steps and out the front door of
the Academy. Crossing the bridge, she turned to head for Wart’s pond. Suddenly
she saw something from the corner of her eye, or at least she thought she did.
Moving closer to the moat, she peered across the water. Not the best word for
it, maybe sludge would be more appropriate. No, there was nothing to see.
Gertie felt sure she had seen a shape or movement in the moat. She would
mention it to Bertha later to see if she had ever seen anything.

    Gertie forgot all about it for now as she arrived at the
stagnant pond. Wart wasn’t on his favourite rock, but he soon returned chewing
madly. His mouth was full of something or other. Gertie didn’t want to know
what.

    ‘Hi, Wart!’ she called. ‘How are you?’

    ‘Croak,’ replied the toad.

    ‘Oh good,’ replied the young witch. She always put her own
interpretation on what Wart might be saying back to her. Today, he was fine.

    ‘I’m happy you’ve settled into your new home,’ she said as Wart
swam over to have his lovely smooth back stroked.

    She then decided he had probably swum over to see if she had
anything tasty to give him, or if she was going to take him anywhere
interesting in her pocket. Still, Wart didn’t mind the stroking. It always made
his eyes go all relaxed and sleepy. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten all those heavy
warts, and wasn’t taking any chances on them growing back. As long as Gertie
stroked him, he could feel safe from warts. She guessed he was right.

    After a while, Gertie said her goodbyes. She headed back to the
Academy to get cleaned up before evening meal. The moat appeared still and
undisturbed this time.

    It wasn’t long before the gong sounded, and eager footsteps
began to descend the steps. The food really was lovely here.

    Bertha, as always, was first in. Meal times were the only
occasions when Gertie saw Bertha moving with speed. Bertha always saved a place
next to her for Gertie. Well, that’s what she said anyway. The truth was, no
one else wanted to sit too near to her. When Bertha ate, food tended to fly all
over, and everyone got a bit.

    Today’s meal was potatoes, meat and devilled dumplings. Not as
good as Ma’s dumplings, but tasty all the same. Bertha had soon finished hers,
and began looking around to see if anyone seemed about to leave anything.
Gertie remembered about the moat, and told Bertha she thought she might have
seen something in it.

    ‘It will be the moat monster,’ replied Bertha. ‘Oh Haggie, are
you going to leave that dumpling?’

    ‘The what?’ asked Gertie.

    ‘Uhm?’ asked Bertha through a mouthful of the dumpling she had
reached over for.

    ‘In the moat…’ reminded Gertie.

    ‘Oh yes,’ replied the big girl. ‘Are you leaving that potato?’

    Gertie nodded. Taking it, Bertha continued. ‘The moat monster,
you know.’

    ‘No, I don’t know,’ replied Gertie, puzzled.

    ‘Oh, I thought everyone knew about the moat monster. Well, you
aren’t missing much anyway.’ Bertha concluded, eyeing the table for any more
interesting leftovers. ‘I see him quite often from my window. I think he mainly
lives over my side. No one pays him any attention. He’s too grumpy.’

    Gertie was intrigued. Fancy there being a monster in the moat,
and she didn’t even know! Just wait until she told Ma and Gran. They would be
even more impressed.

    She went to sleep that night thinking of going over to say hello
to him when she got the chance, and of the classes tomorrow.

    Gertie awoke well before the sound of the breakfast gong. Now
that her first lesson had gone better than she had expected, she was quite
looking forward to the ones today. This morning, Miss Hemlock would teach them
The Point, and then this afternoon the trainee witches and warlocks would
return to her class to learn The Voice. Gertie was quite excited.

    Gertie and Bertha still arranged to get down to class early for
seats at the back, but neither of them felt quite as worried. For one thing,
Miss Hemlock didn’t look half as fierce as Mr Wolfsbane.

    As it turned out, Miss Hemlock soon made it clear she wouldn’t
take any nonsense either. With clearly less respect for a mere witch as opposed
to a warlock, Fang continued to talk to his group even after Miss Hemlock had
walked in and stood waiting for silence. He was soon stopped mid sentence by a
bellowed ‘SILENCE!’ that echoed around the room in a way allowing for no
disobedience whatsoever.

    ‘That was, The Voice’ said Miss Hemlock, who was only small but
had certainly grown in the eyes of the pupils. ‘I did not intend to use The
Voice until this afternoon’s lesson, and then only for teaching purposes. What
I will not tolerate however, young warlock,’ she pointed at Fang, ‘is being
ignored.’

    Fang muttered his apologies, saying he hadn’t seen her come in
and other such nonsense, well humbled. As Miss Hemlock turned her back to write
on the blackboard, he muttered something else, this time about being picked on
in every class so far. The teacher swung around so fast Fang almost swallowed
the pen top he was chewing.

    Telling him to ‘Please choke quietly,’ she turned back to the
board, and wrote:

THE POINT: Used to direct the Spell.

    ‘For any of you who do not already know,’ she now addressed the
class, ‘I am Miss Hemlock, and I am about to teach you The Point. As it says on
the board, the point will be used to direct any spell you decide to cast. The
first rule therefore is, any ideas class?’

    ‘Be careful who you point at?’ suggested Malicia.

    ‘Yes, quite,’ replied the teacher. ‘You don’t want to cast your
spell on the wrong person or object.’

    Gertie immediately thought of Grothilde’s barn, and blushed a
little. She hadn’t even had to point.

    ‘Anything else?’ the teacher continued.

    No one offered an answer this time.

    ‘Alright, well, it’s a start,’ Miss Hemlock carried on. ‘Take
this down.’

    She turned to the blackboard again and wrote:

1) Point accurately and carefully.

2) Always have a steady hand, and a firm finger.

3) Use The Grimace to get your victim’s attention, and The Point to
KEEP it.

    Turning back to the class she said, ‘We have covered number one
briefly, so we will consider number two. What we mean by a steady hand and a
firm finger is that you will not strike fear into anyone if your hand is waving
about or your finger is shaking. I knew of one young witch trying to cast her
first spell with a hand that wasn’t firm. Her victim simply waved back at her,
and went on his way. That was not the desired effect. So, always remember a
steady hand and a firm finger. It also helps if you have a very bony, knobbly,
finger to attract attention, but that isn’t a necessity.’

    Gertie looked down at her little, pink, perfectly formed
fingers, and breathed a sigh of relief.

    ‘As to number three,’ continued Miss Hemlock, ‘I know our own Mr
Wolfsbane has begun to teach you the Grimace. What we need to do now is put it
together with the Point. You must ensure that your victim knows you mean him or
her, and what you intend to do. If the victim knows they are being pointed at,
and why, then you are already half way to your spell working. You need to make
them so afraid, they believe it will happen. If they believe, then it will.’

    Gertie hadn’t thought of that before. She decided Miss Hemlock
was very clever.

    ‘Now, I will demonstrate,’ Miss Hemlock was saying. She swung
around quickly, with a grimace that Gran would have been proud of, and pointed
meaningfully at Fang.

    Fang sprang back in his chair, almost knocking it over, with a
sharp intake of breath.

    The teacher kept her position for a few moments, no doubt to
show how firm and steady her hand and bony finger were, then lowered her hand.

    ‘There. That is The Point,’ Miss Hemlock concluded. ‘And that
was the victim response you are aiming for. Now it is your turn. Remember the
rules we have discussed, prepare your grimace, and POINT. It doesn’t matter who
you point at today, as there will be no spells cast. This is simply a practice.
Off you go then.’

    Fang snorted, grimaced horribly, and pointed at Miss Hemlock. He
was hoping to scare her as much as she had him. Everyone was stunned, but Miss
Hemlock took it in her stride.

    ‘Uhm, not too bad for a first attempt, Fang,’ she said. ‘You
almost look as if you mean it.’

    ‘I do,’ Gertie heard Fang hiss quietly to Malicia as the teacher
turned her gaze to the other pupils.

    Gertie didn’t like to point at anyone. She still had the feeling
it was rude. Instead, she pointed fixedly at the Venus Flytrap on the
windowsill. It didn’t look very healthy. Gertie wondered if it had eaten a
poisoned fly today. Maybe it hadn’t been watered. She wished she could make it
feel better.

    ‘Quite a steady hand,’ said Miss Hemlock who was doing her
rounds of the classroom. ‘But you could certainly do with a few warts. Your
grimace has slipped too, you look in a daydream. Do concentrate.’

    ‘Sorry,’ replied Gertie, who hadn’t realised the teacher was so
close. ‘I’ll try harder.’

    Miss Hemlock gave her a slight reassuring grimace, and patted
Gertie’s outstretched arm. She then turned to Bertha who was huffing and
puffing in a rather alarming way.

    ‘Whatever is the matter?’ the teacher asked.

    Bertha responded by collapsing across her desk in a heap.

    ‘Has anyone been pointing at Bertha and casting a spell?’ asked
the teacher angrily.

    A flurry of denial came from the other pupils.

    ‘Bertha!’ called Gertie. ‘Are you alright?’

    ‘Yes,’ came the muffled voice from Bertha’s lips. They were
touching her desk top at the time. Dust blew from under her head, and she
suddenly sneezed, banging her head on the wood.

    ‘Do sit up, child, and tell me what’s wrong,’ insisted Miss
Hemlock. She now seemed sure Bertha’s condition was not the cause of a curse.

    Bertha did as she was told, still very flushed.

    ‘My arm is awfully heavy,’ Bertha said by way of explanation. ‘Especially
when I’m using so much energy on my grimace at the same time. Do I really have
to do both together? It makes me feel faint.’

    Miss Hemlock rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘May the Black Arts
help me,’ she muttered quietly. ‘I suggest arm strengthening exercises, my
girl,’ she said to Bertha. ‘Or actually, any exercise would probably help.
Surely you can do two things at once? I’ve seen you eating two things at the
same time. Try to put the same effort equally into the Point and the Grimace.’

    Bertha seemed like she was thinking about that, and soon a smile
spread across her face.

    Gertie decided Miss Hemlock really was clever. Bertha could do
two things at once, as long as it involved eating. She was probably thinking
about less strain on the grimace, and reaching for a cream cake.

    Gertie saw her try again. This time she didn’t wobble quite so
much. Only her flabby arm and podgy hand shook instead of her whole body.
Bertha looked very pleased with herself.

    Relieved her friend was happier, Gertie turned her gaze back to
the plant. Actually, it didn’t look bad at all. In fact, it was waving its
hairy leaves about now as if trying to grab at unsuspecting flies, rather than
calmly waiting for them to land on it. It also looked much greener. Gertie
decided it must have been something to do with poor lighting through the grimy
window that made it look poorly before she had pointed at it. She suddenly
realised she was daydreaming again, and went back to finding things to practice
her point on. By the end of the lesson, she felt she had become quite good at
it.