AN: I'll get on with my other fic in a minute, I swear... No idea where this one has come from but it is taking up mind-space so I'm getting it out quickly, but hopefully it is still somewhat good! Let me know, though :)

"I simply do not see the point"

Constance Hardbroom crossed her arms in a mixture of annoyance and stubbornness. She was tired of the semi-constant stream of schemes to teach the girls some new-fangled way - whatever was wrong with the perhaps old-fashioned, but downright effective spells and potions classes?

"Well, I think it's a great idea, Miss Cackle", said Miss Drill, inadvertently adding yet another point of disagreement between herself and the potions mistress, "It'll be a well-deserved break from routine and I think the girls will be excited to learn about magic from a different perspective. Not to mention how useful-"

"Useful? How exactly is disruption useful?" Miss Hardbroom snapped, "What can this defensive magic woman teach in a couple of days that is in any way more useful than the structured teaching of potions and spells?

"She's a highly qualified teacher, Constance," Miss Cackle argued, "And I agree with what Imogen said about perspective. She's a different kind of witch, with different experiences, and I think that that could be very inspirational to some of our girls...especially some who seem to have lost their passion for our traditional lessons recently!"

They all had the same students in mind at this moment, and Constance soon accepted that the Headmistress was not going to be persuaded to change her mind. Resigned to the fact that there was nothing left to say, she began to gather the books she had been marking into a neat pile.

"Oh, and Constance," Miss Cackle added, "We'll have an extra fourth year this week too, because she's bringing her niece."

She simply sighed, knowing that whatever opposition she had to this, it was going to happen.

"When are they going to be arriving?" asked Miss Drill, perhaps hoping to reduce the silent tension still present in the room.

"Six o'clock today," Miss Cackle replied, glancing around at the clock behind her.

"Well, it's five past six, already!" Miss Hardbroom could help but point out scathingly, "Such an excellent first impr-."

She was interrupted by a timid knock on the staff room door, which Miss Cackle proceeded to open, shooting a quick 'be quiet, now' glare in her direction on the way.

"Ah, thankyou, Mildred," she said, standing in the way of the other teachers trying to see who was there, "You may go now...and would you two like to come in? I'm Amelia Cackle, Headmistress."

"Helenna Rookwood," said the unfamiliar witch as she entered the room, "Two 'N's; four 'O's. Any my niece, Layla."

As she shook hands with the Headmistress, Constance surveyed her appearance. She was decidedly average. Average-sounding voice; about average height and weight for a witch who doesn't eat too many cakes; average black clothing for a witch; average old broomstick; average bowny-coloured, neatly-tied-in-a-low-bun hair. There was only one thing in particular that stood out to Constance, and that was the chill-inspiring piece of wood protruding from the back of the witch's bun.

The only thing worse than noticing that sight was noticing that the young girl also had one sticking out of her right boot.

Constance said very little during the brief exchange of pleasantries before the gym mistress was assigned to show the guests where to put their belongings.

As they left the room she turned slowly to face Miss Cackle, paying close attention to making herself appear completely calm despite the intense mixture of feelings she was unwillingly experiencing.

"You never said a thing about them being wand-witches..."