Author’s note:    Hmmmm - it’s  about witchy musings and reflections... and about summer days by the river... and about friendship *sniff* - oh, it’s just lovely anyway!! *sobs with emotion*.

Warning:            Skip the warning.  Nothing unsuitable here, I reckon. No swearing or dirty stuff or whatever... Sad, ain’t it? This is what comes of bringing up a cat too well... (Complaints might be addressed directly to my parents). Maybe the board monitor might discover something unsuitable, though, and give me a  “Beware!”-rating ... *brightens up*.

Whatever Miss Cackle might say, he usually doesn’t screech and yowl when we are riding the broomstick - by now he is more accustomed to it, due to our training - and merely clings on, making a desperate face, but no noise. It’s really beastly of her and HB to pretend he is such an useless cat when he has tried so hard to improve for years.

I think traveling in the cat basket, being bumped about like that and not getting any fresh air might have made him feel queasy - or it may have been the tunafish sandwich I fed him through the bars at lunchtime when no one was looking – I’ve always thought that Mrs Tapioca’s food will make you feel ill quite easily – at least as long as she keeps straight to the letter of Granny Cackle’s Cooking Book. But, well,  if travelling in the basket made him sick,  I couldn’t have brought him with me otherwise anyway.

Maybe I SHOULD have told Maud and Enid about it - but they have to get into any amount of trouble all the time to save me when I have screwed up as usual - Gosh, it makes me feel stupid, always having to be rescued by my best friends - and besides, afterwards they get lines or detention as well as I do - which is not fair.

So, if HB finds out about Tabs and makes a fuss about that - at least I won’t drag the others into it this time.

Now that’s what I call a river! I can barely wait to go for a splash - and it seems shallow enough at the bank, so the others won’t notice I can’t swim (One of the many things I cannot do...I wonder why I never can catch up on all the stuff I mean to learn - I really mean to!)

Maud seems to be miffed, though - but I hardly could have explained why I wanted to go down to the river all by myself, could I?

And besides, I don’t know why I might not go for a walk on my own without her being all sulky - we don’t have to spend every single minute together, do we?

Sometimes I do wish she would leave me in peace for a while. Enid never throws a fit when I want to be alone now and then...

I wonder whether we can go and have a look at the waterfalls – and those rocks where the chest is supposed to have dropped! Hey, maybe that might put Maud into a more cheerful mood - I could ask her tomorrow to come along for exploring...

At least, Maud would never tease me about things like Enid does...

I nearly wanted to yell at her or yank her plait when she said something about my *new boyfriend* at dinner - and everyone staring, too!

It’s pants you cannot be friends with a guy without other people making dumb jokes about it -

even if it wasn’t for feeding Tabby, I’d hang out with Merlin, just to show Enid that there’s nothing wrong about it and that I won’t pay attention to the silly stuff she says.

I know she doesn’t really mean it - at least I hope she doesn’t...

Oh, garn, sometimes I just want to tell everybody to mind their own business - I thought those holidays would be great - games and sunbathing and going for a dip for a change instead of dull lessons and loads of homework from HB - and getting Tabby back for two weeks, too! - but now I’m not so sure - it’s all such a terrible bother...

That’s just such  great tree over there - it should have a swing - wish they’d put one up! I love to sit on a swing – as long as it doesn’t go up too high, that is...

But then, Mr Rowan Webb is a rather eccentric wizard, to be sure - still, I can’t picture him sitting on a swing, somehow...and why would he want to put one up if he wouldn’t use it himself?

Come on, Tabby, shush down! I’ll put you down the second we are back at the boat. If I let you go now, you’ll run off and get lost, you know you would! I promised to let you get some fresh air and carry you about for a while, but if you run off  I’d be in deep water for sure! I just know the first thing HB would do would be to stumble on you - and then I could pack my bags for good.

Oh, bother, and HB said she would check the bedroom before tea to make sure everybody unpacked their things!

I wonder what’s the time by now

I supposed she’d  just like to have someone else around - with a more firm grip and as usual willing to take over the nasty job of punishing and spoilsporting... while she smiles on serenely and tells the girls by means of a friendly helpless little shrug, that the punishment wasn’t her doing at all but just horrid Miss Hardbroom’s who would have her way as always...

Not that I complain – Seneca quoting Lucius Accius: “Oderint, dum metuant”- “They might well hate me as long as they fear me!” (a favourite quote of Emperor Caligula, by the way, though it was addressed first at Nero) might well serve as motto for me.

I’ve never exactly seen the necessity of being popular - but if  popularity is Amelia’s heart‘s desire, I might as well help  her to achieve it.

So I never objected to coming here - much as the prospect of spending a whole fortnight with the restless as well as reckless second years let loose for  holidays without any lessons or homework to keep them busy might grind on my nerves. But bearing in mind how Miss Cackle would spoil them if it wasn’t for me to prevent it and how she would leave it to me to sort them out again after their return to school - it’s indeed far more sensible to make sure they won’t get out of hand under her guidance in the first place - much as I hated the idea of spending two weeks whiling away on a sunny bank in the middle of  a  heatwave in May.

But by now, I must say, I’m feeling rather uncomfortable in Amelia’s presence - which happens rarely unless I’m under the impression that she means to sneak around behind my back to get her will or to coax me into agreement when she knows I totally disagree with her...

However, lately her behaviour is more than unusual. She hasn’t let me out of her sight since we came here - and having to share a bedroom doesn’t exactly help. Telling from the way she’s carrying on, I daresay she’s really concerned about me and my state of health - so she didn’t make that up after all, I grant her that. Not that there was any need for such concern - I always make sure to eat and sleep enough so as not to grow lax on my duties - but I reckon that’s just Amelia’s way of expressing her - well, her fondness of people, if I might call it that.

Still, it creeps me out to be under constant observation from morning till night. (I have to admit that this is the first time I could exactly imagine what it must be like to be one of my pupils. Thanks a lot, headmistress - in future I shall feel guilty for keeping an eye on the girls - though I only do it for their own good.)

She’s been pretending to read for the last half an hour - all nicely tucked up in bed in her polkadotted nightgown and benevolently smiling at me when I returned from a little moonlight broomstick ride. She looks snug as a teddy bear and harmless enough that way, but it still sent shivers down my spine - the way she watched me secretly out of the corner of her eye, hiding behind the “Secret Spells of Ancient Egypt” (my book, as I might mention, and she even borrowed it without asking me!) while I finished unpacking and undressing. In fact I had to retreat to the bathroom to get into my pyjamas just to be out of sight for a moment - every second expecting another lecture about be being too thin, not eating enough and being in instant need of relaxing.

Well, I have to admit I’m a bit on the skinny side, but then, all Hardbrooms have ever been - except for dear Aunt Mirabell - may she rest in peace -  and she wasn’t a born Hardbroom either, but just married into the family.

And I don’t like to discuss figure matters anyway - I had enough of that *Constance-the drainingboard-Hardbroom* crap during my days as a schoolgirl and had to punch a lot of noses and zap a lot of people in order to stop it  - so I’m surely not in the mood to discuss topics such as food or figure or health with Amelia - not if she looks at me with this overly patient “I am older than you, Constance, and therefore I know better” look on her face...

And if she gives me that kind of auntish smile which just makes me stop in my tracks while arguing with her - I hate it if a discussion goes that way. Even I find it somehow difficult to yell at people who will continue smiling at me.

Besides, I never venture to hector her about her *diet* - if one might call it that - much as I would like to do so as I’m always worried about her being on the verge to slip from plumpness to growing fat...

First of all, her constant feasting on cream buns, iced scones and fresh cheesecake doesn’t exactly set an example for our girls – they do their best as it is to skip the wholesome school meals we kindly provide them with and secretly stuff themselves with candy. Secondly, of course, being overweight is not healthy in the least - it sports all sorts of dangers ranging from heartattack to toppling down off one’s broomstick.

But do I tell her off about it every day? Even if it wasn’t for *knowing my place* - her being the headmistress after all - I wouldn’t, as it is some private matter of hers, not mine.

The odd occasional subtle hint such as a reprimanding look or remarks like: “Fee Fi Fo Fum, I smell chocolate in the staffroom” when I exactly know she’s just been polishing off a whole chocolate fudge cake she obtained at Cosie’s in secret and hid on the topmost shelf - but nothing else. Surely that doesn’t give her the right to persecute me all the time about eating enough and not looking well and getting more rest and the lot.

Sometimes Amelia just kills me - and not in  a droll way, either. I felt like throwing my hairbrush at her when she pushed that everlasting “Curse of the workoholic witch” at me for the umpteenth time tonight... I don’t believe in selfhelp books at all, as well she knows - mostly just some infinite mass of bilge, based on makeshift research that will wither away and  melt like a snowman in spring if you just look at it. Not scientific in the least. But what annoyed me even more was her cunning way of - again- predicting my dire fate in case I won’t *chill out* - flat on my back in no time and so on and so on...

And after cheering me up that way and handing me that famous book, she will switch off the light so I can’t read it! Good God, I never felt more like zapping her - I could barely stop myself from doing so.

Does she really think that way I will feel exactly relaxed and ready for a good nap? This is one of the many nasty sideeffects of having to share a bedroom - you cannot stay up as long as you please or read in bed once the lights are out...should have brought  a torch!

So I’ll just have to stare into the darkness and muse about how much she gets on my nerves sometimes...

Oh, great, I just KNEW Amelia would be the kind of person who snores... and I forgot to pack any cotton balls for my ears... lots of rest I shall get!

I don’t know what I have done to her, but she seems to be terribly angry about something...

and I really had hoped we would just spend some time together, having nice holidays and getting some rest away from the everyday toil and trouble of the school - it is so rare an occasion that the two of us have any spare time for talking about private matters -

and aggravating as she can be sometimes, she’s still the best friend I’ve got. As my Aunt Alyssa always used to say. “Friendship needs tending like a precious plant” - (though I have to admit she was rather an eccentric sort of person... ending up believing she was Mary Queen of Scots...).

But what is one to do if the friend whose friendship you try to tend will  go prickly and spiteful whenever you just look at her?

Obviously peaceful relaxing is not what will Constance make feel happy - though I daresay she’s in need of some rest - each term I see her making an energetic start, then slaving away for months and wearing herself with work till she looks more pale, frail and sickly than ever. And as she never ever will listen to what I say, I thought these holidays, under the camouflage of chaperoning the girls so they won’t get too much fun with only their incapable, overindulgent headmistress to take care of them, would be just the thing. Of course I never really expected her to fall for me saying it was all for the good of her health - hehe, for once at least I managed to fool her! I feel quite sly about it – simply telling her the truth when I was sure she’d never believe it!

Sadly, the holiday idea won’t work. I tried to think of all sorts of nice things to undertake with her - wanted to play chess with her on the second night and she had me checkmate in seven moves, then calmly went  to read in Rowan-Webb‘s library (I should have mentioned it to him he’d better lock it up – not that locks would stop her, though)... sat up all night, brooding over dusty old books, as likely as not, though she was in bed when I awoke (I must say this river climate is balm for me - I sleep like a baby these nights) - reading again of course, straining her eyes in the dim morning light -  though not the book I specially got for her - thought she might believe if she had it in black and white - as she won’t believe me when I tell her about burnout effects...

Yesterday we went for a walk - in grim silence - as she never would utter more than “Yes” or “No” or “Rather” whenever I asked her something... and who has ever known Constance Hardbroom to be of a monosyllabic nature?

It’s monologues she goes for, usually, not monosyllables.

Today catastrophe ensued when we had a swim with the girls in the river - this nice, shallow, sunwarmed water gently sloshing over the sandy bank, a soft breeze rippling the waves, birds singing their hearts out in the nearby trees, butterflies tumbling about in neverending spirals - I wonder how anyone can feel cross if one beholds that scenery?

She could however. As soon as I tried to say something nice to her about her new swimsuit (though far too oldfashioned for her age - black turn-of-the-century style) and me wishing for having a figure like hers (she does look good in tight stuff, one has to admit, while I’m afraid I made a spectacle of myself - I shouldn’t have chosen this big dotted stuff, whatever the shop clerk said) she nearly jumped into my face and didn’t speak to me all day.

After all these years we’ve been spending together, I should have known better than to try and pay her a compliment - she never will appreciate that. About once a year I muster all my courage to say something nice about her work or her effort or knowledge or even - God forbid! - her looks - and she just gets gruff and sulks as if I had hurt her feelings. I must say, people paying me compliments always used to make me happy by it...

and anyone paying me a compliment about looking nice in some swimsuit would have been more than welcome - those *Amelia-RolyPoly-Cackle* jokes when I was a schoolgirl were not exactly apt for building selfesteem...

Then there was another faux-pas when I offered to share my strawberry cheesecake with her at tea (it was the last piece at that! You really have to be quick about it when our girls are around!) - which I’m particularly fond of, so she should know it was some sort of peaceoffering, even if I’m aware she doesn’t care for sweets at all - or for food in general. Besides, I wanted to show I’m taking her endless lectures about not eating too much candy and cake serious (whatever she might say about piecrust promises!) - so I meant to make a point of not eating the whole cheesecake for the sake of my health.

She gave me this LOOK - you know, this Constance-Hardbroom-is-definitely-not-amused-but- outraged-look - I trembled in my boots (or rather my soft beach slippers which I had not changed for tea when returning from the river - my bad manners again..).

In fact, it is past bedtime now, but somehow I don’t dare to enter the bedroom yet -

She will be there, I just know she will - tidying up her drawers or repeating spells or writing her secret diary in latin or brushing her hair or doing something else - doubtless something very useful - and by not talking to me but just giving me more looks she will make me feel like a totally degenerated useless cake junkie...

Gracious me, I wish she’d blot her copybook just once - just ONCE! Why does she always have to be so annoyingly faultless - and demand of others to be perfect as well? I have no intention whatsoever to be perfect - it makes life a misery, I’m sure - which is why Constance always looks so gloomy, I suppose.

 And besides - I must not let her intimidate me like this - I’m far older than she is AND it’s my school as well. I’m paying her wages, for goodness’ sake - so I should be the one who orders her around and not the other way round... I should get a grip and not always stand so much in awe of her. I know she cannot be as perfect as she always pretends she is - even if she had not got any other faults, there’s at least this one I can put my finger on - she’s deadly afraid of failing at anything - which is one point where I might surpass her as I’m never afraid of failing...

I mean, what has he ever done for her - except for being not quite as  horrid as the other wizard boys? Anyway, I don’t know why Millie will always fall for stupid boys – just think of this monkey Charlie who messed everything up good and proper when he tried that wrong reversing spell on Ethel...

I wish Mildred would be more loyal in general - I mean, Enid is nice enough, but - somethimes I think Mildred likes her better than me - which I don’t think is fair, as I never got Mildred into that much trouble as Enid has - and she never owns up about it either...

If only Millie would listen to me – I’ve told her so many times that Enid, good sport as she is, will get her into nothing but tight places – but will she believe it?

And after all I’ve done to save her from being expelled or outwitted by Enid or Ethel or anyone else...

She should know by now who’s her true friend, she should indeed!

Well, we made up about all when we met in the boat - I felt so glad to see that she was well, not having been washed down the rapids...

and Dru has been fairly decent, I must admit - though I wished she wouldn’t try to hang out with us all the time, now she’s being cross with Ethel - or is Ethel being cross with her? It’s got something to do with Miss Cackle giving them a rather fierce talking-to in Mr Rowan-Webb’s study, I reckon - I wonder if she found out about the boat business by now?

Whatever, someone should tell Dru and Ethel how stupid it is if best friends have a quarrel - and how awkward it is for all the others to have to watch people carrying on with their stupid fights... and to endure the presence of persons they don’t want to have around, just because those people happen to be mad at their own friends...

And I just know we won’t have heard the last about the boat stuff from Miss Cackle...

whatever Ethel might say about her not having any clue - I mean, we nearly killed HB by shoving off that boat without knowing she was in - even if it WAS Mildred’s fault that HB banged her head in the first place...

Hey, I really thought she was dead when Maud and me landed on the boat - thought Mildred finished her off somehow...

And I’ve always been thinking there was nothing that could scare me as much as HB alive and kicking and being in  a rage - but looking so limp and dead, she even scared me more...

Whatever Ethel says - Mildred might be one clumsy idiot, but she is a CLEVER idiot at least - she had some ace ideas about getting the boat back to the bank and such..

And pushing off the boat without looking into it first, wasn’t such a clever idea, anyway, was it? (Not that I would tell Ethel I thought so)

Really, I felt sort of mean, doing that - I mean, even if there was just the stupid scruffy Tabbycat on board - he might have drowned and - uh - well - it’s not his fault that he’s got Mildred for a witch, anyway.

And besides, I don’t like Mildred that much, but I never meant to drown her cat...

And she HAS been nice, not telling Cackle about the boat and all - not even when all the blame for HB’s accident was put on her...

I mean, all right, she’s the one who chucked the kipper on the boat, so HB banged her head - that’s not our fault, then, but Ethel and me might have killed her by shoving off the boat...

Uh, I bet, we would have got the sack and had to leave school... wonder what Mum would have said about that...

oh, yes, I didn’t mean to kill HB either... not that I’m too sorry about her not being around for some days - we might get some fun at last and no one telling us off about eating too much cake or trying to make us learn lessons when we are supposed to be on holidays..

but still, I never wanted to kill her.. and Mildred saved her, so she saved Ethel and me as well...

Gosh, that was one horrid sight - HB looking like a dead corpse or something...

gave me such a fright.. Duh, I know there’s no such thing as an alive corpse, but HB just looked like an extra-dead corpse..

and I just KNOW Cackle will try to find out how the boat went adrift.. I mean, if you nearly make the deputy head push up the daisies, the headmistress will want to find out exactly what happened, won’t she?

I would, at least, if I was her...

and IF she will question me about it again, I know I will spill the beans... can’t  stand another talking-to like yesterday – and besides, that would be too mean, blaming the boat thing on Mildred, too, as it hasn’t been her fault at all..

and if Cackle squeezes the truth out of me, Ethel won’t ever talk to me again. I know she won’t - but still...

uh, I just hope Cackle won’t ask me about it. Leave the lying to Ethel, she’s better at that sort of thing...

Gosh, I feel like a pig since Maud told me off in the bathroom!

Now WHERE is that rotten towel of Ethel’s ? She might as well have gone back to the river herself and fetched it!

I’ll be late for supper and today it’s chips as well...

How awful, awful, awful... I’d like to laugh and cry at the same time when I think of poor Tabby nearly being drowned. I just can’t understand how one can be as mean as Ethel - because she hates me she takes the risk of killing Tabby - just to get me into trouble???

Oh, poor Tabby - and it’s all my fault, anyway! I should have left you at the school where you could have slept in the kitchen cupboard and got all sorts of scraps from Mrs Tapioca..

It hasn’t been exactly nice holidays for you till now, has it?

But I PROMISE you shall have nothing but fun and pats and loads of kippers from now on - Miss Cackle said I might keep you and I’m so glad!!

And that was so good of you - wrapping yourself round HB’s neck while you’re as much afraid of her as I am myself - and when Dru told Miss Cackle about it, she couldn’t refuse to let me keep you..

And I always thought Drusilla hated me like Ethel does - but she was rather nice, when she and Maud came down to rescue us..not as dumb as I thought she was most of times –  Dru, I mean - rather quick thinking! I wouldn’t mind having her for a friend, but I daresay as soon as Ethel will be talking to her again, Dru will switch sides once more.

And I’m so glad Maud and me made up – I hate it when she is mad at me – after all, she is my oldest friend at school and even if she gets on my nerves by being so jealous of anybody I happen to like I still feel rather unhappy if she won’t talk to me. So maybe it’s just as well that Dru probably won’t stay with our lot much longer...

I still feel sorry for HB. It must be horrid, being shut up all the time in this  bedroom - hot as anything these days - and she must have a hell of a headache anyway. Can’t even read with concussion and all that...

And that’s my fault, too. When she’s up and well again, I’ll probably get another telling off - for bringing you, for trying to rescue you without asking the teachers for help, for borrowing her broomstick (took me ages to find it again as it got tangled in some tree) and specially for chucking the kipper on the boat...

She’ll have it in for me even more, I reckon..

Still, I’ve got you back and that was worth everything...

No, don’t lick my ear, that tickles, stupid cat! Aw, all right, more patting for you then! Theeeeere you are...

I feel beastly when I think about how glad I was at first about HB being out of sight for the next days - I just thought she won’t be able to give me a dressing-down all the time about everything I did wrong...

But now it’s strange - I even sort of miss her... It’s like - hmmm - well, you know these bumpy hard mattresses at school - make you ache all over all term, poking springs into your back, just when you’re finally about to go to sleep - but when you get home for holidays and look forward to your own nice warm comfy bed.. well, then you can’t sleep at first... too cosy and comfortable and everything...

No HB around - it’s just like lying on a heavenly soft mattress and not being able to sleep or eating candy all day and after some days you’re desperate to get some sour stuff like pickled cucumbers that will pucker your mouth...

And apart from that - I DO feel guilty... making her sick and even getting her nearly killed - though, hadn’t it been for Ethel and Dru - but anyway, it was my fault about the kipper in the first place..

Think I should try to somehow make up for it -

Don’t know - bring her some flowers or something?? (Though I’ll feel like Little Red Riding Hood, entering the Granny’s house where the wolf might be lurking in bed..)

Does she like flowers, anyway? Flowers just to smell and look at, not to put into a cauldron for brewing a potion?

I could ask Merlin whether he could magic up some black ones or something...

Come on, Tabs, don’t breathe your kipper breath right into my face, will you?

“Here lies in God under this stone

- Bless her soul and bless her bone -

Beloved  Constance Hardbroom - at last at rest-

Amelia is clever, but Grim Reaper knew best!”

That would set her thinking - hehe - ouch! Must remember not to laugh for the next days - not even in private...

I wonder whether one might take more then ten aspirin per day?

Great Scot, why DOES it have to be so hot in here? This blanket weighs about a ton.

Well, at least Amelia has been leaving me alone for the past days - at least as far as telling me off about my health or something is concerned - just tiptoeing through the room and pulling the curtains or tugging at my blanket or serving some tea or weak broth or whatever..

Even asked whether she should read to me as I’m still too dizzy to read myself - or offered to plump up my pillows or brush my hair or put some damp cloth on my forehead...

I feel like being plague-ridden for all the fuss she’s making about me. I mean, it’s nice to see people care for you after all - but sometimes they tend to carry things too far.

I’m just waiting for her to suggest she’d tuck me in at night or sing me a lullaby or something. (She even wrote a letter to my brother and sister about the accident though I told her not to and they of course had to send a get-well-parcel with some books and more nightgowns and - embarrassingly - my old teddy bear for comfort... I’ll get back at them for this - Caine and Cecily should know better, but I have to admit it’s sort of consoling to have that bear with me at night. – Though they MIGHT have considered rather to send Jack  the Skeleton or Betsy Bat instead – they would not have made me look quite so silly...)

Of course Amelia made a dart at the bear and started cooing about him and kept asking for his name and when I said “The Lilly-Bear” she asked whether he was a girl and when I said, of course not, but I got him for my first birthday from my Aunt Lilly, she kept ranting on how cute it was of me to name it “The Lilly-Bear”... (Good God, she really used the *c*word at me!!! Cute, I ask you!)

I tried to tell her that was all very, very long ago and one must not hold it against a person even if she has been cute as a little girl, cause you sometimes cannot help being cute if you are very little, but that just made her wish to chat with me about the golden days of youth etc etc... till I felt sick..

I daresay she means well, but if she’d wanted to cheer me up, she’d better get me some more aspirin and stop snoring at nights - then I shall feel better.

Oh, and I hardly could believe it, but I even received some visits from Mildred Hubble - complete with scruffy-looking flower bunches the girls had gathered on walks as well as some books from the local library - Whodunnits, mostly - not exactly very educational, but nice for people being laid up in bed and feeling bored...

She even offered (surprise) to read to me, brought some tea as well, tried to smoothe my blanket till I told her to stop and (surprise again) asked me whether she should brush my hair.

(I daresay, I must look like a ruffled scarecrow, the rate people keep asking whether they should brush my hair. Maybe I should give out blindfolds to visitors.)

Well, who’d have believed it -  she actually seemed genuinely sorry for me - seemed short of patting my head had I not given her such a horrified look (That would have given me the shock of my life!) so her hand froze in  midair.  Not that I relish in being pitied - in fact, I hate it - but still, I daresay, apart from being the bane of my life, the thorn in my side and the nail to my coffin - Mildred IS some sort of a nice girl - a walking desaster area, doubtless, but still one with a nice character...

Couldn’t say the same for Ethel Hallow in this matter - I’m still curious to find out whether she’s  played any part in the havoc Mildred created (not for the first time ever!) and what exactly happened to the boat and why Ethel and Dru are apparently not on speaking terms at the moment while Drusilla tends to ally herself with Mildred and her gang. Amelia tells me some news at least - after I have had to nag for about an hour - but she obviously doesn’t want to *stress* me - paying no heed to me when I tell her I’m deadly bored - so she doesn’t tell me everything...

I wish I could find out about that - I might grill Mildred about it next time she comes trudging in with a handful of some wilted common and garden herbs or a cup of weak tea or something...

Solving this mystery would make me feel much better than people tiptoeing around my bed like some demented bunch of Florence-Nightingales-in-training  or some Ministering Angels from a Sunday school book...

And I swear if anyone will ask me again whether they could brush my hair, I’m going to throw a fit!

First this Dragon Lord business - and in between I really thought he would kill the girls if he didn’t get his stupid chest! And when we finally got rid off him, Mildred, Maud and Drusilla warbled on about finding Constance unconscious in a boat which nearly got washed down the river to the waterfalls..

My heart was in my mouth, to tell the truth - thought she might be dead at first, but when I checked her pulse and made sure she was NOT dead, she still scared the living daylights out of my, lying there like that...

Come to think of it, I’ve never seen what Constance looks like when she’s asleep - whenever you catch sight of her, she’s striding up and down the staffroom or the corridors or the potionlab, telling you in a snappy voice what she thinks of you and what you have done wrong and why instead you should have done as she told you to in the first place... she’s always very, very wide awake and rarely silent...

So seeing her like that - closed eyes, neither raising her eyebrows nor frowning - that was ever so uncanny! It gives me nightmares every night...

When I think I’m partly responsible for that accident - taking Mildred’s cat away, so she had to smuggle him here, hide him (and the kipper that made Constance slip as well) - I feel sick.

And when I think I might even have been partly responsible for Constance’s death - when Ethel and Drusilla set the boat adrift to force Mildred to own up about the cat -  I feel even more sick. If I hadn’t taken away her cat and if she had not been too afraid to come to me about rescuing it, nothing bad would have happened.

And I always thought my girls would trust me!

Well, obviously I’ve not been the understanding headmistress I thought I was - it takes endless lectures to make them confide their secrets to me...

Which is how I learned about Ethel’s and Drusilla’s mischievemaking with the boat in fact.

When I looked at the rope and saw it had not snapped, but been tied loose,  I started to question all the girls one after the other..

And Drusilla owned up - she seems to be genuinely sorry for this rash act - and I hope Ethel is, too. I gave her a severe scolding, but she just put on her Hallow-face - and you never can be sure what the Hallows are thinking while looking you politely and innocently right in the eye.

I just can’t bring myself to punishing anyone about that whole affair - I feel sick at heart every time I think about the narrow escape we’ve all been having - and I’m so glad that no one was seriously hurt or even killed... and I cannot be grateful and vengeful at the same time...

Constance won’t approve of that, I’m sure - but so far she cannot get up without fainting - though she tried till I threatened to tie her plait to the bedpost. I daresay she could unzap any knot in a second, though - but she seemed mildly surprised at my sudden fit of  authority and didn’t attempt to get up again.

And when she’ll have recovered,  I will pretend all girls involved in this business got punished severely - and that will have to do.

Personally I can’t see why Maud always is so much into jealousy. I mean, I don’t exactly jump with joy when I see Mildred mooning about with young Merlin... but I won’t bite off her head for doing so anyway... everybody has to make this experience once for the first time...

Maud should get a grip- just accept that Mil’s got a crush on Merlin at the moment - youthful folly, methinks- it will soon be over anyway. Of course, she won’t admit to liking him – (I can hardly blame her for that) and can even get quite mad - in a mild Millie-like way of course - if you insist on her fancying him. So I’ll just keep silent about it for now and hope she gets over it soon.

I think it’s a good thing Mil gets finally more interested in boys – she’s always been far too dreamy and shy for my taste – never one to face reality as it is. The sooner she realizes how dumb most boys can be at most times, the better for her, I say. Though it’s a pity she usually falls for losers to start with – Charlie was bad enough as it is, but that imp Merlin is worse – no backbone at all, and probably watery ink flowing in his veins instead of blood – though she could fare even worse, probably...

Mildred should have more selfesteem and pick out better guys – she can afford it - got a sweet smile and blue eyes as well – lots of hair and a nice snub nose – quite some height, though, but a good figure - so the boys should go crazy about her left and right – if only she would quit being such a quiet mouse around them and dare to show how funny she can be.

I’d like to encourage her to be more at ease about boys - but with ever-jealous Maud hanging around that might prove sort of difficult. I for one can’t see why Mil can’t have as many friends as she pleases to – it’s so silly that Maud always thinks she’s being deprived of Mil’s friendship as soon as she talks to anybody else. I just have to remember how Maud used to have a go at me all the time when I was new at Cackle’s – and, yep, I even enjoyed to make special friends with Millie, just to make Maud mad. I thought that way I should cure her some day from this stupid jealousy – but obviously she’s beyond help, anyway...

Recently she even said she thought Mil spent too much time hovering about Hardbroom’s bedside! I mean, being jealous because she thinks Millie will start befriending HB – Maud must be totally bonkers!

I’ve thought about getting some nice tadpoles or something to put into her bed for a treat – Maud’s that is, not HB’s. Hardbroom’s bed filled with tadpoles, that would be even funnier – but not even I would dare to sneak in there and try to slip some stuff under her blanket while she’s actually IN the bed, watching me...

Pity, though – well, Maud’s bed will have to do then...

(Or I might save them up for Dru – maybe that would stop her from hanging out with us day and night... Not that I mind her so much, but it’s rather tough, having to explain stuff three times over before she finally gets it...)

I wonder if Merlin would get me some lizard – maybe if Mil asked him really nicely...

I shall never ever talk to her again as long as I live - getting me into trouble like this - it might spoil my reports at the end of term!

Now, since when does Drusilla have a conscience all of a sudden, I’d like to know - feeling sorry for having shipped stupid Tubby-Tabby down the river - wish he’d have plummeted down the rapids for real. Now he’s being made fuss over all day - he’ll burst within the week from eating kippers from morning till noon.

Well, of course it was a silly coincidence - HB nearly kicking the bucket by going down the rapids - but it has been Millie’s kipper that made her bang her head anyway - and how was I supposed to know that HB would be in the boat, pray? If she would not always be so nosy, nothing would have happened to her - my plan would have worked and Mil would have betrayed herself and got punished - without any need for HB to go investigating in the boat for herself.

Still -  no major punishment from Cackle so far  - apart from being told off and getting this “I am your conscience”-Cackle-look that gets on your nerves but doesn’t hurt you. If I’ll get off scot-free in this matter, I might reconsider and not spend the rest of my days at school making Dru’s life a misery... though of course it’s out of the question to make up with her again. I’ll just ignore her in the future - she’s no better than Mildred and her sad lot - hasn’t got any  spunk and gives in to anyone, even Cackle.

Still, it feels sort of lonely without her. But at least I don’t have to put up with her stupid warbling and endless “What? Why? I don’t understand that, Ethel.”

Well, some people have brains and some haven’t, but those who haven’t can pretty soon get on your nerves. Wonder how I could bear her presence for about two years by now...

It’s strange she doesn’t try to make things up again - usually, when I’m mad at her she‘d rant  on all day how sorry she is, till I forgive her. And now, when she nearly got us sacked by spilling the beans to Cackle, she doesn’t even say she’s sorry...well, she did, once, but she never repeated it after I yelled at her to shut up ...

And why does she have to hang out with this bunch of looneys everyday - can’t she even see where she’s not wanted? Mildred of course tries to grin and bear it - she wouldn’t know how to properly be cross at people even if she wanted to - just spends her life wandering about and  smiling vaguely at people to make up for all the chaos she spreads...

But Enid seems to be unnerved and Maud is outright hostile to Dru - she should know better than to try and make friends with THEM... not that I cared what happened to her anyway, of course...

So I’ve been spending more time with Maud, Enid and the rest recently – even took Dru along on our outings – we had a splendid time picknicking down by the rapids, traipsing through the woods and camping in a nearby cave we discovered...

This has been splendid holidays – I’m nearly as brown as a berry by now – and can you believe it? I meant to write ever so many postcards home, but I never even thought of it until now – and it’s the last day of our holidays, so what good would it do to start now?

Somehow I hardly can imagine what it will be like to be at Cackle’s tomorrow night again – hard lumpy bed and all – but somehow I’m even anticipating it – must be the summerbreeze blowing through my window and the lazing about at the river and specially the gorgeous farewell party Rowan-Webb has given tonight – I’m just too happy to care about what life will be like tomorrow – though I’ll probably soon come back to my senses...

I never even knew you could make chestnut and lavender and ysop icecream – and that it would taste well at that!

But you can – we just had plenty at the party – and honey pancakes and gingerbeer and veggie stew and roasted hotdogs and marshmallows and orange lemonade and chicken pie and cucumber finger sandwiches and hot chocolate and potatoes baked in a campfire and omelettes and baked apples and fruitsalad and caramel pudding and grilled tomatoes and nutcake and all sorts of things.

I don’t know how they managed – but Rowan-Webb and Merlin rigged up an incredible dinner party all by themselves – complete with funny hats and streamers and all... if I didn’t know all about *selfish and trivial ends*, I’d think it must have been magic...

It‘s been so nice – Miss Cackle gave permission that we might stay up till midnight (we finished the packing rather hastily during the afternoon) – and even HB who has been about for some days by now – though she’s being fussed over by Miss Cackle and made to sit down every two minutes – didn’t object.

I’m glad – HB seems not to be mad at me – at least not more than usual. And I feel better about the whole boat event now she’s well again, though I think I even might miss visiting her and reading to her and stuff – I’ve grown used to it somehow.

Merlin brought up some grammophone  from somewhere and we had music and then later started singing while the campfire died down – Pirate songs, mostly and some the boy scouts taught us last year -  and as it was still so warm we went for another little splash – though I don’t know how I will get my bathing suit dried till tomorrow when we shall fly back home...

It was all so beautiful – crickets everywhere and a friendly little breeze, waves lapping at the bank and just the right sort of violet fringing the sunset... and later any amount of stars, though I can never remember their names or the constellations they belong to..

And Rowan-Webb made a speech – but no one listened as we were all lying back in the sand, staring at the sky and wondering whether we would ever feel like eating anything again – except for Drusilla who was polishing off the remainder of the chips.

And Miss Cackle made another speech – I cringed when she said something about effort and bravery and doing one’s best to save others and the spirit of Cackle’s Academy – and I could see HB did, too – but luckily Miss Cackle was rather curt about it – might have had something to do with the teakettle boiling over just then and everybody getting distracted by trying to save the embers of the campfire.

I felt like never getting up again – it was all so very cosy and peaceful...

But when it was really, really late Miss Cackle said we had to get up early, so she sent us to bed – though I believe it was way after midnight by then.

She and HB and Rowan-Webb stayed at the bank for a while – lucky them, no one ever tells them to go to bed ..

And when we went back to the house, Merlin sneaked up and asked me whether he could write me a letter now and then. I was so surprised!

I said I’d think about it and let him know... but I’m really not sure. He is a nice guy – so I might like getting letters from him, telling me how they get on with the magic wand and treasures – but not during term, I reckon – Enid would tease me like anything and the others are hardly better...

I was relieved and sad at the same time to see that Ethel and Drusilla are on speaking terms again. They happened to sit near each other at the campfire when Ruby who’s been sitting in between got up to fetch her swimsuit -  and both stared ahead with a stony glare and never looked at each other. But when Merlin offered them some tarts, they both grabbed the same tart at the same time and Ethel started to frown and Dru started to giggle – and Ethel looked contemptously at Dru and Dru suddenly nudged her and grinned at her...

And later I saw them talking by the river – and looking over their shoulders and giving us this sort of glance that tells you they are up to something... just in the same way they always did.

Somehow I’m glad they made up – as Dru cannot have been very happy what with Maud hardly looking at her or talking to her when Dru was with us, and Enid making all sorts of odd remarks – but then, I think Dru hardly can be very happy with Ethel either – being bullied and all that. And I’m sure (and I told her so, several times) that neither Merlin nor any of us had something to do with the dead lizard under her pillow  (still, I don’t know whether she really believed me) – so that would have been no reason to quit being friends with us and start hanging round with Ethel again.

But then – it’s her business to choose what friends she’d like to be with – though I shall be missing her...

Miss Cackle seemed sad tonight, somehow – maybe because no one was being in the mood to listen to her speech – but then, Miss Cackle usually is no person who does mind if people will listen to her. Perhaps she was sorry to see the end of her holidays draw near . I think teachers enjoy a time off as much as pupils do sometimes. At least Miss Cackle might – I’m not too sure about Miss Hardbroom. True, she generally seems to relax quite a bit when she reads a nice book or when you read to her – and I caught her once or twice during the last days, resting in some shadowy corner of the beach, eyes closed and not in the least interested in any goings on other than some birds singing or something – but tonight she appeared to be more snappish and wide-awake than ever. She nearly scared us stiff when she suddenly turned up out of thin air in various places to shout at us when we left some sandwich wrappings or orange peel on the sand... Maybe she’s just making ready for getting back to school duties -  while Miss Cackle was feeling sorry about it...

There must be nightingales about here somewhere ..  and lots of owls, cause I can hear them all the time ... and those everlasting lovely crickets – I think I shall never go to sleep tonight...

And fresh air is something to be thankful for - I don’t even mind the sun that much as long as I can sit in some shadowy place and am not forced to loll around on the beach with Amelia..

I hoped she would quit watching over my every step as soon as I was able to get up again, but she’s been more of a fuss-pot than ever lately.  I had practically to yell at her to stop her from fluttering about and making herself agreeable and useful all the time – much as I hate doing that as she will look terribly hurt every time - like a trustful dog being slapped...

I cannot vouch for it, but I’m almost sure she sat at my bedside last night – I had this sort of notion about someone staring at me for minutes, though I was too drowsy to wake up completely...

I really hope she won’t make a habit of watching over my sleep – that would creep my out...

I hate having people about when I’m not fully awake!

That farewell party tonight should have cheered her up, I thought – an abundant banquet, far too rich for my taste – I shouldn’t wonder if most of the girls will feel sick tomorrow and we shall have to cancel the ride home for some hours...

But Amelia looked more glum than ever...

The girls have enjoyed themselves thoroughly, it seems. It is but time that we get back to the Academy or they will start a riot about having to attend lessons every day and won’t feel grateful about being served with our plain nourishing food.

In my opinon it’s not good for them to be spoiled like that for days and even weeks – going idle makes them get into all sorts of scrapes. They grow discontented with everything and quarrelsome as well.

Though I’ve observed that all seems to be serene again between Ethel and Drusilla – much to my displeasure, as I think the two of them are up to much mischief amongst them – which will prevent their progress in class. I’m sure Ethel would be able to be far more of a credit to the school if she kept from plotting with Drusilla to play pranks on the other girls – and God knows Cackle’s Academy can do with all the credit we can get the way things have been developing lately.

As for Mildred and her lot, I’m under the impression that they, too, seem to be the best of friends again – which is just as well as it will keep Mildred from hovering over my shoulder all the time, the way Amelia does – two guardian angels of this sort would drive me insane in no time, I’m sure! I must admit it has been sort of nice to have Mildred around for some days – who would have thought she might prove *a comfort to the sick* and all that – but it won’t do to have her following me about once we’ve returned to the school – you can hardly be strict and firm with some person who will smile at you all the time and do nice things for you – that would lead to Mildred being even more spoiled than she is by now – and it would put a final fullstop to her ever even attempting to become a proper witch one day.

So, not exactly feeling like the sort of person Mildred Hubble should fancy being nice to, I had made up my mind to thoroughly shout at her once or twice to cure her of being fond of me – but luckily I will be spared feeling like an ungrateful wretch because of being nasty to her – as her friends probably will occupy all the spare time she might have left – not much, anyway, as I already planned to announce some revision exams for next week.

I hope Amelia won’t start straining my patience again, trying to make me relax and not work too hard right away – surely some exams coming up, tough as they might be for the girls, but just routine to me – won’t set her off on that track again?

I don’t know - she’s being really quiet for days on end - looked blearyeyed and tired. And she’s always staying close to me,  ready to jump to get me a pillow or a cup of tea or to catch me in case I drop dead suddenly, I suppose...

She didn’t even enjoy that party tonight as much as I thought she would – lots of her favourite dishes, general rejoicings and good mood all around – an occasion like this usually will put her into high spirits – but not tonight.

She’s been passing me several watery smiles and apart from that hardly said a word – which is sort of disturbing. She gives me the idea that I’ve somehow hurt her feelings – though what I have done to do so, I’ve no idea – except for telling her (with authority – still, I really tried hard not to raise my voice!) once or twice to leave me alone – but she really should be used to that by now...

After the party, things went even worse. We retired to finish packing and finally get some sleep before returning to the Academy. She just dumped her stuff into her big carpet-bag – all flotsam and jetsam and topsy-turvy – didn’t even realize she put her boots on top of her toothbrush – and then sat on the bed, looking at me in this listless way, the corners of her mouth drooping more and more by the minute.

I was terribly afraid she’d start to cry any second - People crying make me feel ever so awkward - cannot think of a thing to say instead of mumbling something like “Hush, it’s all right!” or “There, there..” or “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry ...”

So I sort of patted her arm and told her not to (go soppy, I mean) - and as she still looked about to start blubbing, I quickly asked her for helping me finish the packing of my things - much as I hated her doing that, as she always messes everything up when packing stuff - and I even allowed her to brush my hair for the night and didn’t yell at her one bit when she said something about it being pretty or silken or some other crap (which made me cringe in my boots, really) which I think was rather decent of me, as I detest any sort of compliment. They always make me feel weird as I’m never sure whether people mean to make fun of me when they say something nice about me...

And she looked less guilt-ridden afterwards, so I suppose she felt better.

Still - it’s far past midnight now and she’s still not in bed - wandering about the house, looking for some balcony as she wanted to *get some fresh air* - why, our bedroom window is open all night! If she wants to fall into raptures about the loveliness of the moonlight or enthuse about the balmy kiss of night on her cheek or whatever, she could do it here, couldn’t she - instead of catching her death  straying through draughty corridors without dressinggown or bedroom slippers...

Tonight it’s sad - which is a shame, as it IS such a lovely night - black and silver everywhere and such a devine sweet odour in the air - it’s not roses, I’m sure, but I don’t know which sort of flowers it might be...lilac? Jasmin? Constance would know, but she wouldn’t want to be caught dead talking about:  “the merry month of May/ (...where) beasts did leap and birds did sing/ trees did grow and plants did spring/ everything did banish moan, / save the nightingale alone...”...

I’m in the mood for moaning myself at the moment... sheer melancholy and misery...I feel like Barnefield’s nightingale for sure – “Even so, poor bird, like thee/ No one alive will pity me.”

Moonlight makes one feel soft and silly quite often – I wonder why? Does the moon look sad all on its own or is it just something one will imagine when one feels miserable?

“With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the skies!

How silently, and with how wan a face!”

Wan a face, that’s what I make, too, at the moment, probably... good old Sidney!

And all because, as Wilmot puts it, of “Constancy: (I cannot change as others do)/ Though you unjustly scorn..” Sometimes I think, scorn is the essence of her nature...

From up here the river looks like gleaming metal - all shiny and smooth - who’d think he’d turn so rough and dangerous some hundred metres further down?

A crescent moon droops above and all those little noises will sneak into your ears, which will give you the creeps, just a little bit - rustling and flapping in the darkness where night’s little creatures are being busy... all sorts of ghouls and gremlins might be loose tonight for all I know...

And suddenly someone places a hand on my shoulder - which makes me start like anything -

When I turn round I get another start seeing Constance - I never can supress a shudder when noticing how strange her eyes look at night - I mean, she’s got really dark eyes during daylight, so how can they GLOW at night?? Is that something she does on purpose to scare people silly, or can’t she help it?

Having changed for the night and wearing flatheeled slippers, she really isn’t much taller than me - but instead of making me feel less inferior, not having to stare up at her but facing her at eyelevel makes me feel more uneasy than ever.

Apart from that - her pale face framed by that sinister hair is enough to spook anyone at night - even if she won’t be wearing for once no gloomy purple pyjamas, but an oldfashioned ruffled white nightgown her sister sent her, which would have looked angelic on anyone except her, I guess. On her it just looks ghostly - sort of like Ophelia or the Lady of Shalott or something... (Good grief, I should stop picturing her floating downstream - that might be an ill omen..)

She says: “Melia - ....” and then stops and purses her lips, so I never know what she meant to say in the first place. And after staring at me for some time, which makes me fidget like some willynilly little first year, she says in this know-all voice of hers: “Melia, you shouldn’t wander around on those cold stones without wearing slippers!” and then shoves my furry bunny bedslippers at me! God, I feel so embarrassed - I should never have brought them in the first place - they are silly and formless and even have got rabbits’ faces complete with whiskers, eyes and ears! So as soon as I realized we would share one bedroom, I pushed them far beneath my bed to get them out of sight... Trust her to find them and telling me off for not wearing them!

Constance doesn’t even bat an eyelid, but for all I know she might be laughing herself silly over my shoes just now, without showing me – she has this knack of laughing in total silence, hiding her amusement away behind quite a serious face. (HER slippers of course are just black and plain and elegant - darn that woman!)

I blush and take the ridiculous things from her - put them hastily on, so they will be hidden beneath the hem of my nightgown.

While I am desperately trying to think of something clever to say, she suddenly smiles at me! I can’t believe my eyes at first - thought it was a trick of the moonlight or something - but there it is - not that smug grin she puts on when she can prove you’ve been wrong and that makes her look like a very contented cat which has just managed to sneak into the dairy... but that genuine smile that’s sort of lovely and more rare than a lunar ecclipse - I spend more time with her than with anyone else and even I spot that smile about once in five years or so.

She asks how about nicking some strawberry cheesecake from the larder (there were plenty leftovers from the farewell party Mr Rowan-Webb has been giving tonight) and having a midnight feast? - a really touching offer, given her dislike of sweets...

And she quotes something about pepper making people hot-tempered while barley-sugar made them sweet or something - does sound familiar to me somehow, but I’m not sure where she got it from...

Then she even suggests having a little moonshine dip in the river first - it being such a warm summer night and all that - a jolly idea of hers - reminds me of my days as schoolgirl, when I would sneak out of the bedroom to meet at the pond with some of the other girls (back then, she’d not even been born – but maybe they used to do the same thing when she was at school...girls will be girls, always, I reckon.).

And fancy her even bringing up Spenser  “With that I saw two swans of goodly hue/come softly swimming down along the Lee...” – Uneasy whether she wants to make fun of me I still say bravely, I’d like to come along and just had to fetch my swimsuit first – and then she actually takes a deep breath and – No, really? - mumbles something about *By the way, a nice new swimsuit I had got there, and she specially liked the dots...*  - There, she said it! - Constance of all people - who  doesn’t object to telling lies in general if they will serve the benefit of the school, but who greatly objects to paying people compliments, whether they might be based on truth or not...

I’d like to cuddle her here and now, but that would never do of course - one zap and I’d be history, I guess...

But then - for once I feel daring and think I  might act spontaneously  and the D***  take the consequences! So I DO hug her  - she sort of gasps and grows all rigid , but at least she doesn’t run off or box my ears or anything...so I hope she doesn’t mind too much... and I manage to bite my tongue and not to say anything about how her hipbones poked me or about her ribs sticking out - and I bet she bites her tongue as well, as she doesn’t say anything about the general plumpness of mine - and so all is well in the end..

And all of a sudden I remember now some other saying of my Aunt Alyssa’s : “Friendship means to know when you might talk and to know when you better had shut up!”

Wise aunt, of mine, bless her...