Potions and Pageants

by R K Dreaming

  Their efforts were to no avail.

  “…To assess what punishments are deemed necessary in this instance and apply them!” continued Councilor Strickt forcefully.

  Nan however, had regained some of her composure, and was still insistent on her original course of action — attempting to charm Councilor Strickt into a more lenient direction than the one he had come here for.

  “You really must try these pink wafers,” she said. “Have you had them? They’re a Humble invention, but really very tasty. I am sure you’ll like them.”

  “I would not,” he said, turning his nose up as she wafted the biscuits under his nose. “What I would like is for Miss Prince to be appropriately supervised by an adult. I shall be… I shall be…” His voice trailed off and he sniffed at the biscuits curiously. “They do look good, don’t they,” he said, and accepted one.

  Biting into it, he seemed to lose some of his stiffness. He took a large gulp of his tea, finished his biscuit, and let out a sigh of relief as if he had got home after a long day and taken off a particularly painful pair of shoes.

  Nan gave a very small and satisfied smile.

  Percy’s eyes narrowed. She saw now the tip of a wand sticking out of Nan’s pocket. She had never noticed Nan with a wand before. Headmistress Glory had spotted it too. She did not look angry. She looked amused. Even so, Nan hastily pushed her wand deeper into her pocket and out of sight.

  Headmistress Glory was not about to waste the opportunity of a softened up Councilor Strickt.

  “As this is Miss Prince’s first offence, I do think anything overly harsh would be counterproductive,” she said. “What she needs is a proper education.”

  Percy’s stomach sank like a stone. “I’m getting an education!” she protested.

  This was not true. She had not received a single word of education since Nanny Nora had left.

  “Not enough of one, clearly,” said Headmistress Glory. “Going to school will give you a focus for all that energy of yours. I am sure I can think of things to occupy your time, dear. Idle minds do the devil’s work.”

  “Exactly,” said Councilor Strickt. “If you can demonstrate that you are a responsible and valuable young member of the community, the Eldritch Council will be more than happy to consider today’s incident a one-off.”

  The previous sense of force that he had carried in his voice was gone. He sounded nothing more than a little sleepy and in need of going home for a nice long nap.

  “No thanks,” said Percy. “What’s the other punishment on offer?”

  Nan glared at Percy.

  Councilor Strickt frowned. “We shall contact your mother immediately to demand that she return to this property and fulfil her parental responsibilities.”

  Percy made a face. The return of her mortal mother was not exactly ideal.

  “My mother is a very busy woman, councilor,” said Percy. “Can’t I just have a fine or something?”

  Glancing around at the richly decorated lounge, he said, “I hardly think a fine is going to teach you a lesson.” He looked more than a little irritated again.

  But what had caught Percy’s interest was that Headmistress Glory had stiffened up somewhat at the mention of Percy’s mortal mother. Clearly she did not want Percy’s mother returning even more than Percy did.

  Percy felt like telling the councilor to call her mother right away, just to see how annoyed Glory would get. But it would only be shooting herself in the foot. The last thing she needed was two mothers on her case.

  Councilor Strickt’s oddly relaxed state looked like it was threatening to fade away.

  “I thought we had agreed,” said Headmistress Glory to the councilor, “that the best course of action was for Miss Prince to begin school immediately at Humble High under my care?”

  “What?” objected Percy.

  “We agreed no such thing,” said Councilor Strickt. “I don’t wish to be rude, but if you could remind me of your credentials again? I really cannot understand how a new headmistress was appointed at Humble High without me being informed. The school is part of my remit!”

  She gave him that disconcertingly cool smile again. “Your superiors are more than happy with my credentials. Perhaps they did not deem it necessary for you to see them.”

  He looked angry at this implication that she knew more about his superiors than he did.

  “I must insist that this incident goes on Miss Prince’s permanent record,” he said. “If she is going to behave as a threat to the relations between the eldritch and Humble communities—”

  “Surely not,” said Headmistress Glory, heading him off before he could gather much steam. “A little excessive for a teenage misadventure. Or is it your aim, councilor, for people to start saying that the Eldritch Council is discriminating against Meeks?”

  Percy glowered. How dared Headmistress Glory mention that she was a Meek, as if it wasn’t entirely her own fault for thrusting Percy into the mortal realm without so much as a by your leave?

  Councilor Strickt looked a little flustered now. “But surely if her mother cannot control the girl, then the girl may need to be removed from the mother’s care?”

  “Removing Meek children from their mothers?” said Headmistress Glory in pretend shock. “Imagine what the Conclave of Magic would have to say about that! You might as well start shipping children off to the sentinels. Surely we can think of something less drastic?”

  Nan gave a squeak of alarm at the mention of Sentinels and sloshed some of her tea all over her lap.

  Councilor Strickt glowered at the headmistress. Even he seemed a little shaken by her mention of Sentinels, and seemed keen to change the topic.

  “But merely forcing her to attend school hardly seems enough of a punishment for such a reckless girl!” he said. “And going to Humble High is a privilege. Many a family wish they could send their children there. It’s practically a reward!”

  A reward! Percy glared at him. The man had to be some kind of moron. He had probably loved sitting in a classroom all day, as much as he loved sitting in an office now, the pompous pringle.

  “Then we should add on community service,” declared Headmistress Glory.

  Percy shot Headmistress Glory a horrified look. “Community service?” she demanded. “Cleaning up the streets and such? Who do you think I am?”

  “Not street-cleaning, dear,” said Headmistress Glory. “I was thinking more along the lines of charity work.” She had a gleam in her eyes now.

  Nan gasped. “No!” she said.

  “Yes,” said Headmistress Glory triumphantly. “Like raising a great deal of money for the poor Humbles who have been left homeless by that terrible hurricane. It’s your project, isn’t it, Miss Gooding? I am sure you’ll be happy to make room for Miss Prince to get involved.”

  Nan gave a little sound of dismay and her face went pale.

  Percy let out a loud groan. She couldn’t help it.

  Hearing the groan, Councilor Strickt began to look interested. He nodded thoughtfully. “If Miss Prince can prove an ability to show a certain level of responsibility without her mother’s supervision, then the Eldritch Council might be satisfied. Tell me more about this charity initiative.”

  “Nanette?” the headmistress prompted.

  Nan glumly began telling him about her work. The more she spoke the more animated she got, going on at great length and detail to such an extent that Councilor Strickt looked like he was regretting having asked her for more information.

  Even Headmistress Glory was beginning to look impatient. She interjected, “It sounds like you need all the help you can get. Miss Prince will be your co-organizer, and I will check up on you both regularly.”

  Percy and Nan both recognized this for the threat that it was. But Mother had never been someone you could refuse.

  Before Percy could think up a clever excuse to get out of it, Councilor Strickt was standing up abruptly, as if he was eager to get away from Nan’s runaway tongue.


  “Excellent,” he said shortly. “Headmistress, please do escalate any concerns to me.”

  “I am not your secretary,” she said coolly.

  “Fine, fine,” he snapped. “I’ll get that new school librarian to do it.”

  Headmistress Glory looked even more sour at this prospect, but she did not disagree.

  “Miss Prince,” said Councilor Strickt, “I will expect a glowing report. Do not put a foot wrong henceforth, or the Eldritch Council will not be pleased.”

  After he and Headmistress Glory were gone, Nan rounded furiously on Percy. “Why didn’t you say no?” she demanded.

  “Say no?” said Percy, astonished. “I didn’t hear you saying no to her. As if I wanted to go to your stupid school anyway. What a nightmare.”

  Percy said that last bit half-heartedly. For years she had been glad not to be forced to go to school, but after the tumultuous events of the day, the fact that she would now have to go to school had not fully sunk in. She felt she would probably be more angry about it in the morning.

  Nan’s feelings seemed far stronger. “Too right it’s a nightmare! I have such a bad feeling about this. Why on earth is your Mother in the mortal realm?”

  “How am I supposed to know?”

  “Don’t you care? Aren’t you worried?”

  “Why should I be worried? If she thinks she can be my mother again after all this time, she is mistaken. I have a new life now, and she can darn well butt out of it.”

  “But it can’t be a coincidence that we got our memories back on the same day that your Mother turns up in the mortal realm!” insisted Nan.

  “Meh,” said Percy. Then she brightened. “Ooh! Do you think that my dad—”

  “No!” shrieked Nan. “No, no, no. He is a Lord of Hell. Far too powerful a demon for them to allow him to walk the mortal realm. Can you imagine the chaos? It would be all over the news!”

  Percy was disappointed. Dad had been nothing if not fun.

  Nan groaned. “I knew you were going to ruin things for me. I just knew it.”

  “Are you still on about your stupid pageant?” demanded Percy. “As if my involvement could possibly make things more excruciatingly painful for you than it already is. It sounds like a right bore!”

  “Good!” said Nan. “In that case you can just come to the meetings, sit in the back row, not interfere, and we’ll tell your Mother that you helped loads.”

  “She is not my Mother. Don’t call her that! Whatever she is up to, I don’t want to know.”

  But Nan’s outrage had piqued Percy’s interest. It was always so amusing when Nan got angry. She was sure that half of the stuff that she had got up to in her previous life wouldn’t have been such a hoot if Cherub had not been around to be so outraged by it. Percy had forgotten how much fun it was to needle her.

  And come to think of it, if Nan went to this school, imagine the opportunities for some mischief that would present! There was nothing Percy hated more than to be bored. And it suddenly occurred to her that life was about to get more interesting.

  “Did you say you were having the beauty girls over to your house tomorrow to try on dresses and things?” she said innocently.

  “Yeah, so?”

  Percy went over to her wardrobe and flung it open. She pulled out a horrid green and mauve frilly confection of a gown that she had worn once to annoy her mother during a dinner party that her mother had insisted she attend.

  She held it up against her body. “What do you think?”

  A look of horror was dawning on Nan’s face. “What for?” she asked faintly.

  Percy gave her a wicked smile. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to enter your little show. Because what fun is a beauty pageant without a beast in it?”

  5. The Angel Boy

  Percy awoke so late on Sunday morning that it was nearly afternoon. She found herself in a particularly good mood, and when she remembered the fact that she was supposed to go to Nan’s house that afternoon for beauty pageant rehearsals, her smile only widened.

  And not for the reasons Nan might have hoped.

  Jeeves bustled into the room carrying a large silver tray containing hot tea and a full English breakfast, which he deposited on her lap.

  “Oh, I thought I would eat with Mr Bramble this morning,” she said.

  “He’s enjoying his quiet time with his birds,” Jeeves said. “Up before dawn they were, the critters, making such a racket. I’ve already taken him his breakfast. They’d eaten half of it before I even left. I don’t know whether they were more pleased to have him back or his food.”

  Though his voice was complaining, there was the hint of a smile on his face. If those birds kept it up, Jeeves would be cooking three course meals for them soon and all.

  “Ew!” said Percy, pushing aside the grilled tomatoes. “I don’t know why you keep giving me these, Jeeves. You know I hate tomatoes.”

  “A full English is not complete without tomatoes,” he insisted, and swept out of the room with his nose raised high into the air.

  Percy tucked in to a crisp slice of buttered toast which she topped with creamy scrambled eggs. Next she demolished the sausages and beans and mushrooms. There was nothing she liked better than breakfast. The only thing missing was a good cappuccino.

  When Jeeves was in a good mood, which he had been the past few days, he was an excellent cook. But the one thing he hated was what he called newfangled contraptions, and that included coffee machines.

  So on her way to Nan’s house some hours later, Percy stopped off at her favorite little greasy spoon café.

  As well as a good old fry up in the mornings, later in the day the place did wonderful Italian food, which she was currently not in the mood for, having eaten such a large breakfast.

  The real reason Percy loved this place was because it did the most beautiful little cappuccino in all of London, or so Percy thought.

  As she walked in, a little bell rang out, and the owner with whom she was familiar gave her his usual grumpy faced nod.

  Percy beamed at him. “Luca,” she called. “Two of your bellissima cappuccinos please.” She kissed the tips of her fingers in a chef’s kiss to indicate how much she loved them

  “Bellissimo,” he grunted.

  “Exactly,” she trilled.

  She was about to take her usual seat in a booth right at the back of the café, when she passed by a familiar figure. A boy.

  Backtracking, she peered into his booth. She had been right. It was the boy who she had seen at the Ice Cream Hut in Leicester Square with the horrid Octavia Smythe-Smith girl – the boy who had given Percy a look of pity.

  “You!” she declared loudly.

  The boy, whose head had been buried in a very large newspaper, visibly jolted in shock. He gave her a querying look. Clearly he did not remember her, and nor did he much want to know her by the preoccupied air with which he was viewing her.

  “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” she said.

  He looked bemused. “Huh?”

  “What’s the word, hummingbird?”

  “I… don’t know what the word is,” he said distractedly.

  “Wow, someone hasn’t had enough caffeine today.” She scooted into the booth opposite him. “You’re always with that Smythe-Smith girl. You go to Humble High, don’t you? What was your name again? Paul? Harry…?”

  “Felix,” he said. “Do I know you? Sorry, I just started this week. So many new faces. Do we have a class together?”

  “Time will tell. I’m new too. Starting tomorrow, in fact. Two newbies together. Isn’t that cozy?”

  He did not look amused. He was glaring at her now as if she had tricked him somehow.

  “What?” she said, raising her brows innocently. “Aren’t you enjoying your coffee? You should try the cappuccino. It’s to die for.”

  Felix glanced around himself, as if hoping someone would rescue him from her. He was a tall boy, with neat brown hair, exceptionally handsome, and very neatly
dressed in a crisp t-shirt, tan trousers, and stylish but not ostentatious trainers. Percy hated ostentatious trainers.

  Felix was far too good looking for her to have usually taken notice of him. People who looked like him usually had more than a little incubus or angelus blood, which in her experience made them boring or full of themselves or both. This boy seemed to be neither.

  But there was something about him that was off. She still felt it. What was a boy like this doing going to Humble High? Why was her fellow-weirdo radar tingling?

  “Are you new to London?” she asked, leaning in to make sure he paid her his full attention.

  She was crowding him. He had little option but to look at her.

  Before he could answer, she continued, “No. You’re not new. You’re all too familiar with the whole London vibe to be new. Which begs the question, why did you switch schools the year before exams? That’s odd isn’t it?”

  The boy shrugged. “I’m a bit busy,” he said quietly, as if hoping she would go away.

  Percy ignored this. “It’s not like Humble High has an amazing reputation for scholarly excellence,” she continued. “So you can’t have switched for that reason. And you look entirely too much of a good boy to have switched because you were thrown out of your old school. So what’s left? Why is a boy like you coming to Humble High?”

  He shrugged again. Looking around, he said, “There are plenty of other tables empty for you. I kind of wanted to have lunch on my own.” He said this very politely, as if he had no intention of offending her.

  “Yes,” she said cheerily. “Even my own usual booth at the back is empty, and I usually like eating on my own too, but here you are making me all curious and not bothering to answer my questions. And anyway, new guy, new school, new friends, no? You don’t want to be hanging out with that Octavia Smythe-Smith all the time. I bet everyone thinks she’s so great, but there’s something slightly off about that girl. I just haven’t been able to put my finger on it.”

  Felix’s attention had slipped. She followed his gaze. Across the café, a waiter was serving up a large tray of coffees to a group of girls.