A/N: I have recently received a review asking me to update this story. To be honest, I probably won't. I haven't looked into it for far too long, and I'm too busy with RL business to get back into it. So, if anyone is interested, send me a message and we'll talk about adopting it. It would be nice if you already had a vague idea of where you would take things and could outline them for me.


Summer Solstice

There had always been something mystical about the night of summer solstice in Enid's

Opinion. Something secret. Perhaps it was because it wasn't celebrated at Cackle's Academy.

But Enid had always had the impression that there was something going on that night, something the students were not supposed to know about.

And thus, in her fourth and final year at school, Enid decided to find out about these occurrences. She didn't tell her friends, for she knew that they hadn't noticed anything, and she didn't want them to get into trouble. At least, that was what she told herself. In truth she wanted to do this on her own. She considered this her secret, and she had no desire to share it.

After curfew she hid in a corner near the school gate to watch it. And so she waited. And waited. Around midnight, when she already wanted to give up and go to bed, the school door opened and a dark, hooded figure came out. Enid could hardly control her excitement when she followed the mysterious person out into the forest.

Who could this be? She couldn't tell whether the person was tall, as she was bend into some kind of semi-crouch.

Could it be Miss Cackle, heading for a secret feast? Or Miss Bat, on her way to a mystic chanting?

After about 20 minutes of walking, when Enid's excitement was already cooling down, the figure reached a clearing and stopped, looking around as if to check whether she was being followed. Enid quickly hid behind a tree.

Believing herself unseen, the figure knelt down to light a fire, using wood that seemed to have been there before.

In the light of this fire, Enid could follow the persons every move.

She watched her taking out an ancient-looking knife, a crystal-goblet, a stone bowl that seemed to be covered in strange symbols, a small bottle that obviously contained water and a leather pouch. The last thing was a silver pentagramm. She poured some water into the goblet and filled the bowl with a white substance from the pouch. "Salt", Enid thought. Then the figure took of her hood – and Enid gasped in shock.

It was Miss Hardbroom.

Almost trance-like the teacher took some salt out of the bowl and threw it into the fire. "I am calling the soil. May all bad energies be banished. That's my will, and therefor it shall happen." While she spoke these words, she drew a pentagramm into the air.

These things Miss Hardbroom repeated with the elements water, fire and air. When she called the air, a wind came up that made her loose hair stream and that sent a shiver down Enid's spine. This could never be her terrifying form teacher. This could never be the same woman that would tell Miss Bat off for believing to hear voices. She seemed like a creature from

Another world.

With fascination Enid watched as Miss Hardbroom took the knife and held it in front of her face. What was she going to do?

Slowly, very slowly, Miss Hardbroom lowered the knife and raised her free hand. Enid held her breath – and felt a wave of relief when she saw that her teacher had merely cut of a few hairs. After watching them thoughtfully for a few moments, she threw them into the fire.

Not even in her dreams could Enid have imagined what she heard next.

"Oh goddess, give me the strength and the determination I need to go on with my life. Give me the ability to reduce the memories I have without letting them vanish. Give me the control over my emotions, m my thoughts and my words I need to maintain the illusions I created so long ago. Keep evil from those I care for and protect them from those who want to damage them.

I beg you, hold your hand over them, and give me the ability to protect them, for they shall not suffer like I suffered. Save them from the things I had to endure. They are young and innocent. They do not deserve being handed over to her.

You heard my pleads. I am asking you to help me fulfil my duty, my duty to save innocent children from being turned into someone like me. I do not want your help for myself, for I know that I cannot be saved. But have mercy for those who are innocent."

Enid could hardly believe her ears, or her eyes for that matter. Not only was Miss Hardbroom, the strictest teacher known to human kind, worshipping a heathen goddess, but she was lost and looking for help. There was no doubt what she had been talking about during her ritual – she wanted to save her students from people like Heckity Broomhead. What must that woman have done to her, Enid wondered, if she had devoted her life to fighting her, even if there was no direct confrontation.

The girl was too lost in her thoughts – after all, her whole view of Miss Hardbroom had just been shattered – to notice that her teacher had collected her things, put out the fire and started her way back. She hadn't even noticed that at some point during the ritual she had stepped out from behind the tree to get a better view, and so it took her a few moments to realise that she stood face to face with Miss Hardbroom.