The Wandering Witch - Larissa Weems x Female Reader

Chapter 9: Wine Problems

Read the Author's note afterward.

"That was a disaster," Weems growled as she paced back and forth frantically, her anger showing through her creased eyebrows and the clacking of her heels loudly interacting with the wooden floor. "The mayor is furious! I've lost count of the phone calls, emails, and people in town, alums, and parents. They want answers, and so do I!" She angrily pointed her finger at Wednesday, who sat deadpanned, and Y/N calmly shifted her crossed legs from time to time, waiting for her anger to pass.

Y/N won't lie. She delighted in pushing the headmistress to the brink. She acknowledges that it has gone too far, after seeing the devastation and damage that have been caused.

Wednesday breathes, "I would lead the inquisition. But, I left my thumbscrews and rack at home." She took a jab at being sarcastic at Weems, who was so furious you could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears.

Weems sneers, "Miss Addams, you are already on thin ice. Wafer-thin ice!" She cautioned Wednesday and turned to Y/N. "And you!" The Witch points out to herself, "Yes, you! How could you condone such behavior?" she said, making her way towards Y/N and Wednesday, towering over both girls. She rested her hands on her hips.

Y/N stood up, meeting Larissa's gaze, and narrowed her eyes. "This is a grave accusation, Principal Weems. You have no evidence against Wednesday for ever doing such an atrocity." Y/N scowled, her voice tenacious.

"I swear to you on my late scorpion's soul. My hands are clean." Wednesday confessed as she intertwined her hands, resting them on her knees.

The headmistress's eye twitched in annoyance; another outburst was coming, or so it seemed. Wednesday and Y/N might not have executed the work, but they are involved. Thanks to Thing and his brilliant handiwork.

All three women stare at each other in silence. The tension between them is palpable; Weems waves her hand as she walks over to the fireplace, leaning her arm on the stone arch. She inhaled with a shaky breath, pondering how to mitigate the damage she is shouldering as Headmistress of Nevermore.

She whipped her head to both and said, "I may not have hard evidence, but I see you. You're a trouble magnet."

Wednesday approaches Weems by the hearth, glancing up to meet the headmistress's furious gaze. "If trouble means standing up to lies, decades of discrimination, centuries of treating outcasts like second-class citizens or worse...."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jericho, why does it even have an outreach day in the first place?" the goth asks, the genuine inquisition seen in her face. This conversation was what Y/N had with Marilyn earlier. Now, she wanted to hear it directly from the principal.

"Don't you know its real history with Outcasts? The actual story of Joseph Crackstone?" Wednesday pressed on as Weems sighed exasperatedly. "I do, to an extent," her lip quivered.

"Then why be complicit in its cover-up? Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it." Y/N asks as she folds her arms over her chest. Weems scoffed at Y/N's lecture, staring her down in annoyance.

"What do you know about the history of Jericho, Y/N?"

"I did my research," she answered, raising a brow at Weems.

The headmistress wove her hands together and tilted her head down to Wednesday's level. "That is where you and I differ. Where you see doom, I see opportunity. Maybe this is a chance to rewrite the wrongs. To start a new chapter in the normie-outcast relations." Weems talked with her hands, marveling at the delusion that normies and outcasts will live together in harmony. That is where she is wrong.