“People, me included, subscribe to Witch Weekly, and that’s a load of bunk most weeks.”

Aggie laughed. “I’ve never actually read it, but from the covers I’ve seen, that sounds right on the mark.”

“Time?” Tiberius nodded. “Yeah, alright, I’ve got time.” Just not now, he realized, as a crash in the other room gave way to a larger commotion. “But that’s my cue.” He shot Aggie a pair of finger guns as he made his exit from the room. “You’ve got time, but you’re on a deadline.”

“Oh,” Aggie said rather lamely as Tiberius gave her finger guns, confused for a moment by his sudden exit. It was only then that she registered he might be needed to help with whatever the crash was. “Er, when is the deadline?” she called after him, but it seemed that he was already gone.

“You haven’t accounted for the possibility that I might just enjoy saying the name Agatha.” He enjoyed being like this, like he was playing pretend at someone else. Someone who might actually manage to make friends with a person like Aggie who saw the world in an entirely different light than he did.

Aggie pursed her lips, holding back and even wider smile. “Well, I don’t mind. It’s only that my full name reminds me a bit of my Gran when I’ve done something I shouldn’t have. I’ll have to get used to not flinching and saying ‘I didn’t do it!’ when I hear it.”

A small tinge appeared on Clem’s cheeks— she was pleased at the praise, not because she wasn’t modest, but because she worked hard on her campaign and she was pleased to see that noticed. “My friend helped me with the colours,” she replied, glancing back down at her posters. They certainly were bright. “I worried for a moment I was putting too much on them, but then I decided it was important to make sure people knew what they would be voting for.”

“Ach, no, it’s brilliant the way it is. Get people’s attention with the colors, and then show them what you’re all about with the extra information,” Aggie said with a wave of her hand and a grin.

James looked to the picture. He struggled to spot the difference between sticks and bowtruckles. “This them?”

“Ah, no, they’re just over there,” Aggie told James kindly, nudging his finger in the direction of where the bowtruckles actually were in the photograph, “See?”

D.W. found herself frowning as she answered: “Herbology,” without much emotion behind it. Two years ago, she’d picked Herbology because it sounded easy, and she hadn’t wanted to come to school at all. And nearly she had made it all three years with that same attitude. Nearly. Now… well, now… “But that’s not what I want to study. I want to do a COMC degree, too.” It surprised her more than anything to say it aloud, to this mere stranger, and to mean it. 

Aggie’s expression turned excited as the other witch mentioned that she was interested in Magical Creatures as a degree. “Oh, that’s brilliant,” she practically exclaimed, “And Herbology will help you with that, too. Knowing which plants certain creatures like to eat is useful. What’s got you buzzing to change directions to magical creatures, exactly?”

“You should send out a newsletter of nice magical creature stories. Regular dose of cute, you know?”

“Ooh, that’s a lovely idea,” Aggie said with a wide smile, nearly bouncing up and down at the suggestion, “Do you really think people would be interested?”

“Are there any pictures?”

“Just the one,” Aggie said, sliding the magazine across the table for James to see, “Cute though, innit?”

“You mean you don’t think my family legacy is hanging on to my career as a comedian? Agatha, I’m almost insulted.”

“Oh, Agatha,” Aggie repeated, “You must be proper upset if I’m getting the full name. Didn’t mean to cause any grief, sorry about that.”

D.W. considered her a moment, and the story. She looked away to chew at the side of her thumb, and then said. “You study magical creatures then?” she assumed. It was less of a question than it sounded. 

“Aye,” Aggie confirmed, “Can’t imagine studying anything else. And you?” She realized she had been talking at great length about magical creatures—which she tended to do quite a lot—but hadn’t yet asked anything of the other witch.

“I don’t really go into the forest that much, which probably explains it. Next time I do though, I’ll keep an eye out for them,” Clem said, before adding an, ‘“Oh. Here, you can read it.” She picked a poster off the pile on the table and handed it to Aggie.

“Yes, you ought to. They blend in a bit, but keep a sharp eye and I’m sure you’ll spot one,” Aggie said, before her eyes widened at the posters, “Ah, the colors here are so bright. It’s lovely.” She read a little further before commenting again. “And you’re so detailed. Very impressive.” While it wasn’t perhaps something she was particularly interested in, Aggie always had a soft spot for people who were passionate about their goals. As long as it wasn’t hurting anyone.

“You’ve got great taste in magazines, clearly.”

“Cheers,” Aggie said, her expression extremely pleased. She thought it was nice that she and Dorcas saw eye to eye on things, considering they hadn’t exactly been good friends back in primary school.

“Bowtruckles, those are them stick looking fellows ain’t they?” she asked. “I mean, it’s not funny,” she said point blank, but something of her softened a bit. “Cute though, innit?” 

“Aye, that’s them,” Aggie replied brightly, excited that someone knew what she was talking about. There were plenty of creatures she knew about and loved that would cause her conversation partners to blink confusedly whenever she mentioned them. “Very cute, yes.”

“Do you usually run into bowtruckles?” Clem asked curiously. It wasn’t a regular occurrence for her— in fact, she didn’t need a single finger to count how many times it had happened. She looked down at the posters again. “Oh, I’m running for head girl.”

“Oh, there’s loads of the wee dotes in the forest. Not all overly friendly but most kind enough, so long as you don’t have a go at their tree,” Aggie replied earnestly, before her expression brightened, “Oh, that’s exciting. What do the posters say?”

“You seem like you’d make a good audience. You’d probably laugh for me, regardless of how unfunny most of it was.”

“Ah, I’m sure most of it would be funny, so I wouldn’t have to fake it,” Aggie said with a wave of her hand, “But I’d also wager stand up comedy isn’t the future you’re in school for.”

Dorcas grinned. “You know, that is cute. Bowtruckle human interest stories really do hit the spot.”

“Aye, they do,” Aggie agreed brightly, glad that Dorcas understood her enthusiasm, “Automatically makes the day better, reading this.” She pointed to the magazine again.

“Oh,” James had been expecting some kind of joke. It wasn’t particularly funny, but it was sweet. “That’s – cute?”

“It is,” Aggie said brightly. It usually took outright disappointment for her to realize someone didn’t find something as interesting as she did.