Lovesick Witches

Beltane

Gazing out at the dancing maypole that stood in the centre of the courtyard, I swallowed a tremendously pleasing spoonful of cinnamon porridge. 

"This is wonderful!" Mildred exclaimed as she ate hers. "I wish we could have cinnamon every day!" 

It was Beltane; one of the sabbats of a witch's year. Not all sabbats were celebrated at Cackle's, but Beltane, falling on May 1st and otherwise known as Mayday, was classed as a rather significant one along with Yule and Samhain. Cinnamon had virtually nothing to do with this Sabbat whatsoever, but no one was complaining when we got to have it on our runny porridge. 

"Only a few more final exams to go," I stated. "How have you guys found them so far?" 

"Hard," Enid snapped back. 

"I've found them okay, honestly," Maud replied. "My parents made sure I was ready for them, and I'm glad they did." 

"Mildred?" 

"Yeah, same as Maud. Some questions have been tough, but the majority has been going surprisingly smoothly. Speaking of exams, we have one later today." 

"Such an exciting way to be spending Beltane," I said with an obvious eye roll. 

"I know, right? The rest of the school get to spend it dancing around a maypole and watching the final round of the head girl competition and us year 5s have a final exam," groaned Enid. 

"The head girl competition!" I repeated, only just remembering that the final round was today. After the many previous rounds of the contest, the results were a draw between Fenella and Beatrice. Whoever won today would be next year's head girl. God, I hoped it would be Beatrice. 

After breakfast, my friends and I went to the library to study, and it was only a couple of nerve-racking hours later that we found ourselves back in the familiar hustle and bustle outside the exam hall, waiting, impatiently, to enter. 

Hecate was there, once again, to heave open the doors, but I made an effort to not let myself get distracted by her presence. 

Like the previous exams, ninety minutes seemed to whiz by and before I knew it, we were told that our time was up, and were guided out of the hall. That test was relatively tough, and I was certain I had lost some marks here and there, but overall I wasn't too disheartened with my efforts. 

"The head girl contest is about to begin," said Maud, loudly, the second the doors were shut again and we were back out in the corridor. 

"Quick," I said, "let's go to the chanting classroom to watch!" 

With any commentary of the exam we had just taken to be left for after the head girl competition, all four of us hurried to the chanting classroom and were relieved to get there just in time for it to commence. 

The final round of the head girl competition was a round in which each contestant was required to write, direct, conduct and perform a piece of music with a chanting choir. Beatrice was a strong singer. There was no doubt about that. But so was Fenella. 

Positioning myself at the very back of the awfully crowded classroom, I wiped a treacle of sweat off my face. Whether it had formed from running to get here, or my growing nerves about this contest, was unknown. But my breathing rate seemed to have reached a drastic increase, regardless. 

Barely being able to see due to the hundreds of people squished inside the little room, I could make out the sight of Fenella taking the stage, with around seven other forth years following her closely behind. 

The piano began to play and I could strangely hear my heartbeat sync to the rhythm, loud and rapid. As I could hardly see anything anyway, I decided to close my eyes, both to calm my nerves and to focus on the sound of the singing. 

Fenella and her choir sounded beautiful and the song ended with a pause of silence, before the room flooded with applause. 

Oof. 

How on earth was Beatrice supposed to beat that? 

Shortly after, Beatrice occupied the stage, with the same other students which sang with Fenella. 

The moment of silence before the piano began playing again was deafening. 

Soft semiquavers waltzed from the piano keys and put me more at ease as Beatrice opened her mouth. A magnificently angelic tone met with every atom in the atmosphere as she started to sing, each note beautifully in key and precise, yet coming off as effortless. The music crescendoed and more people joined in with her vocals, first in unison before splitting up into numerous heavenly harmonies. The key modulated to a distant minor, which perfectly changed the tone of the piece to sadder and more solemn. 

This second performance was also finished with a pause and an echoing round of applause. Both performances supposably had spells to go with them, but as I wasn't able to see that, I was judging them both purely on sound. And for that matter, Beatrice was sure to win. 

Humming Beatrice's gorgeous tune, I followed the crowd with my friends, and students filed out of the room. Looking around, I was certain that everyone was in utter awe of what they had just heard, and that alone sent warm tingles down my spine. 

We would have to wait until tomorrow to find out the winner. I wasn't sure if I could wait that long.