Hackle on the roof with a broomstick!
(This is more pre-Hackle than actual Hackle)
The light, which had begun to fade when Hecate started her rounds, had almost entirely given way to night, when she noticed a figure on the south roof. She flew closer, and landed lightly a few feet away.
The figure turned towards her. “Hecate! Is it so late then?”
“As you see.”
Ada sighed. “I wish that my fourth period class might seem as short as the time I snatch for myself.”
“Are you speaking in specifics or in general?”
“Oh, just in general, although they were particularly rambunctious today. Agatha said…” Ada took a sharp breath. “It doesn’t matter what Agatha said, actually.”
Hecate, who had her own opinions about Agatha, said nothing.
“There’s still a little light,” Ada turned a pleading look at Hecate. “Will you come sit with me? Just for a moment?”
“I think that is your optimism speaking,” Hecate commented, but settled next to Ada anyway, misjudging the distance in the ever-darkening evening and inadvertently brushing Ada’s shoulder. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for.”
Perhaps there wasn’t, but now Hecate was keenly aware of the infinitesimal amount of space between their bodies, and part of her wished there was some way of shifting away without seeming to do so.
“My aunt used to say that dusk was the real witching hour,” Hecate offered instead. “As it was neither day nor night, but full of the possibilities of that only exist between that which was and that which may be.”
“An interesting thought.”
A breeze danced across them and Ada shivered. Hecate cast a warming spell around them.
Ada found Hecate’s arm and squeezed it. “I suppose we ought to go in,” she sighed. “I’ve been playing hooky long enough.”
She rose to her feet, stumbled on something and Hecate reached out to steady her. “Definitely time to go in,” Ada said a little breathlessly. “Before I do damage to us both. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She was still holding Ada, she realized. “Are you steady now?”
“Yes,” Ada replied, and Hecate wished she could see her face more clearly.
“Hecate?”
Hecate froze, Ada’s face much closer than it had been. “I apologize, Miss Cackle, my mind must have wandered.”
“It’s Ada, remember?” she said gently. “Especially when you’ve saved me from my foolishness,” she added, a smile in her tone.
“You are many things, Ada Cackle, but foolish is not one of them.”
“Hmm. That must be due to your good influence,” she teased.
“Miss Cackle, I do think you must be feeling a bit light-headed still. Shall I transfer us?”
“If you would. Oh! Our brooms! Miss Cumulus will have our heads on a platter if we leave them out here, especially if it rains as they think it might.”
“I’ll take care of them,” Hecate said, and it was only as she prepared to send them back to the broom shed that she realized with horror that she was still holding on to Ada Cackle. But then, a small voice in her head pointed out Ada Cackle is also still holding on to you.
Then the brooms were away and she and Miss Cackle were standing in the half-light of the corridor of the staff rooms. A door creaked open and Hecate sprang back, letting go of Miss Cackle as she did so.
“Good evening,” Miss Bat greeted. “A fine night, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Hecate and I were just enjoying it from the roof.”
“How splendid. I must rush or this will miss the evening post,” she waved a letter.
“Have you heard anything?”
“Not yet, but I will,” Gwen replied with a confidence that Hecate certainly didn’t feel.
“I do hope that she will not break her heart,” Ada admitted when Gwen was out of hearing.
“She is remarkably fixed in her opinion of him. I do not think it lies within anyone’s power to change her mind on that topic.”
“Perhaps you are right. Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?”
“Thank you, but I have some things that I want to finish this evening.”
Did Ada look a little disappointed, or was that a trick of Hecate’s imagination?
“Another time then, perhaps?”
“Certainly.”