Happy Christmas!

I hope you're enjoying Christmas Day and are set to enjoy a new year.

Please tell me what you think.

The Revelations of the EXPELLED.

Mirabelle was feeling ill.

Listening to how her many time great-granddaughter had been treated by her fellow witches sickened her. She knew only too well how traditionally minded witches and wizards were, she herself was a proud upholder and supporter of many of those same traditions, so truthfully she didn't have any right to be angry on Mildred's behalf.

She was just…numb about the future of her family. While it sounded like her family had managed to survive to this century, something she was eternally thankful for, she was upset about what had happened to Mildred even if the girl seemed to be alright now.

Mirabelle took a good long look at the girl. Mildred seemed healthy enough in her eyes, but Mirabelle hated the fact she had essentially abandoned something that was her heritage, though it was not her choice. Mirabelle was torn with indecision. She had come into the future to discover what had happened to her family, to see if they had survived and if they were alright. She was delighted they had survived for so long without magic, though she wasn't sure how they'd managed it.

Mirabelle was delighted that in the future, magic would return to her family, but what distressed Mirabelle the most was how her many time great-granddaughter had been expelled from a school which would have allowed future generations to re-discover their magical roots, but now that opportunity was gone.

Or was it?

It wasn't unusual for witches and wizards (at least in her century, she wasn't sure if it was still possible for it to be allowed in this new century since she wasn't sure if her edition of the code was valid) to be educated without the need for schools. Did Mildred still want to be a witch? Did she still want to discover something new about herself, or did she simply no longer care and was willing to let those opportunities pass her by?

But what angered her the most was how the Witching world had not changed. So many prejudices and her family was a victim of it. Mildred was a victim of those prejudices.

"Mildred, are you….. are you happy with your situation?" Mirabelle asked hesitantly.

Mildred frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I meant….. don't you want to learn about magic, about your heritage?" Mirabelle clarified. She genuinely hoped Mildred did not take this question the wrong way.

The teenager sighed. "I admit there are times I wish I still had the chance to learn magic," Mildred admitted, "but I have to be realistic. It's not my world. I was never welcomed. The teachers and the students drove me mad. Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom were awful. Miss Cackle was a hypocrite to me; she smiled to my face whenever she saw me, and yet whenever my back was turned she and Hardbroom dragged my mother into the school, not caring she might be in the middle of helping people. My mother works as a nurse alongside doctors at the local hospital, and some of the injuries are severe. They took my mother into the school to discuss my problems, and they didn't care they were transporting her out of work where anyone can see it.

"And the most insulting part of it was Miss Cackle never caught on, or seemed to catch on, that I knew about it. What, did she really think my mother and I never talked when we had the opportunity? And because Hardbroom vanished my mobile phone - it allows us to speak to each other over long distances - I couldn't speak to her on my terms. I had to adhere to their rules of speaking to mum from the mirror room. But mum told me a lot. She told me how many times she'd been dragged into the school, insulted and treated like dirt by those two. They didn't care one bit what my mother did for a living, seeing it as though it were beneath their notice as if helping people was a bad thing," Mildred spat, her eyes furious.

Mirabelle looked down at her toes, wishing she hadn't brought the matter up now. But Mildred just kept going, clearly, she had been holding this back for a long time, and she'd never had the opportunity to let it all out like this.

"My mother didn't have many good things to say about my former teachers, until every day I found myself becoming indifferent towards them, and then I was expelled," Mildred shook her head, "At first I was reluctant to just return to the non-magical world and go to an ordinary school like my mum wanted though I didn't have much choice. But then…. ah," she smiled scornfully, "broomsticks, pointed hats, cauldrons. They probably did my favour. I only came to that conclusion when they came here to the flat, insulted my mother, and offered me a chance to come back weeks after the event in question. They never tried to apologise then or beforehand. Afterward's I decided I never wanted to see them ever again, and after that, I decided I wanted nothing to do with the witching world again. Do I want to know more about my family history? Yes, I do. Do I want to go back to the witching world? Not a chance. I'm happy and I don't want anyone meddling in that," she finished, sending Mirabelle a meaningful look.

The older witch flinched, wondering when Mildred had gotten the idea she had been thinking of changing history herself so then these events would never have happened. When she looked at the young girl, Mirabelle's heart sank into her stomach with dread. Mildred was looking at like all of her worst suspicions had just come true.

"Mildred, I was only considering it because I didn't want you or your mother to suffer anymore," Mirabelle said, hoping to explain what had entered her mind. "I wasn't going to actually do it."

Mildred raised an eyebrow. Clearly, the girl didn't believe her. Mirabelle sighed mentally, wondering why the youth were so untrusting, though she wondered if time had only made it worse.

"I mean it," Mirabelle said, but Mildreds' expression had not changed. Not one little bit. Finally, Mirabelle placed her right hand to her chest and spoke, "I, Mirabelle Hubble, do hereby solemnly swear on my magic that I shall not break my word to Mildred Hubble I shall interfere in her life, this I swear on the witches' code. This is my magical oath."

Mildred couldn't believe it. Shortly after her expulsion from Cackles, she had cleared her stuff out of all the magical things. The broomstick wasn't a problem because HB had taken it off of her, but the uniform was later burnt though she secretly took the badges from the hat and the gymslip and placed them into a box so she could gaze at them from time to time if she wanted to.

She got rid of the spell book and the Witches' codebooks since she would no longer need them, but she had taken the time to read the book before she burnt it along with her uniform. It was kind of ironic she was reading the code after being expelled from Cackles, but truthfully she decided to get it out of the way.

She had learnt a great deal about the witching world, and she discovered how much she disliked it from reading some of the rules.

It was no wonder Ethel was such a finite bitch with how she behaved. She was not going to receive anything from her family, and she would always be overlooked whereas her sister Esmerelda would receive everything. Mildred didn't care. It wasn't her problem, and besides after what Ethel had done she didn't know if she shouldn't thank the girl or punch her lights out.

Personally, she would love to see Ethels' face if the blonde bitch ever found out she was actually happy. It would be the perfect revenge to make Ethel see that being expelled was one of the best things to ever happen to her, though knowing Ethel the blonde might try to do something really extreme.

But when she had read the Witches' Code, Mildred had learnt about magical oaths based on the code. While it was possible to bend the rules without consequence, all witches and wizards when they were young, around the time they were about to leave for school, signed a document provided by an official which was linked them magically to the code itself so then if they broke it severely the Magic Council would learn of it and they'd deal with them accordingly. There was a huge section about it in the codebook.

Mirabelle was telling the truth, but Mildred was not sure if she could even trust the woman, not after seeing for herself the woman had considered meddling with history to change it to her own family would not lose their magic. "I'm sorry, my child," Mirabelle wrung her hands guiltily, "I didn't want you to suffer anymore."

Mildred did what she always did whenever her mother was upset. She wrapped an arm around her distant ancestor and held her close. "I know you did," she said honestly, "but truthfully I am happy. My mother and aunt and grandmother are happy. We've been happy for years, and we'd have been happy with or without magic in our lives."

She was telling the truth. Aside from one or two issues here and there during the course of their lives which was normal for any family in the non-magical world - taxes, money, food, things like that, the Hubble family had always been okay.

"It was only a thought," Mirabelle tried to say, but both of them knew it was more than that. Mildred, however, had watched Doctor Who and a few other dramas involving the occasional act of time travel.

"Yeah," she said, convinced she had her case. "Look," she took a deep breath so she could gather the right wording for her upcoming argument. "If you change the past, there's no telling what might happen. I might not exist. My mother might not exist. Some other Hubbles may take our place, or I could be alive in a new reality, but everything that makes me who I am might be gone. I love art, and if I have to choose between being a witch and being an artist, I would go for art every time. It's what I can do. I don't want to lose that part about myself."

Mirabelle was wilting with every word. She was feeling ashamed of herself for even contemplating changing her family's future, not for their benefit but for hers. That was the worst part of the whole thing. She looked down and eventually, she nodded. "You're right," she admitted sadly, disgusted with herself for being so concerned about the magic she had forgotten the most important factor, her family. They survived. They were alive in this century, and although she was not happy one little bit with what had happened with Mildred, she was delighted they were healthy.

"You're right," she repeated, gazing at her descendent with a solemn look. "I'm sorry. I was not thinking at all about you or the family, or what they might be doing with their lives. I was more interested in what I considered normal."

Mildred studied the woman. Mirabelle seemed to be sincere, and as she looked into the woman's' eyes, she could see it laid out nicely for her. The older Hubble was telling the truth. Then again it could have been because of that oath was sworn on the code which may have been what made her believe it.

"What will you do now?" she asked, changing the subject.

Mirabelle sighed. "I think I'm ready," the witch said sadly. "I'm going to go back in time and give my magic to the stone."

Mildred watched the older woman. She seemed like she was still trying to convince herself, but she was more visibly willing to do it now she had been convinced her descendants were happy despite being deprived of their magical heritage for centuries. "I'm sorry," she offered, seeing the witch was clearly upset with the whole thing.

Mirabelle shook her head quickly, "No, you've got nothing to be sorry about. I'm just sorry my coven had to use the Founding Stone in the first place in order to make the coven magically powerful. I'm sorry you had to suffer as you have."

"I may have suffered," Mildred said, "but I have gained a lot more. I didn't need magic for that."

That part of the reply hurt and yet elated Mirabelle more than anything else. She stood up and took out the bottle. "What's that?" Mildred asked. "Is that how you travelled into the future?"

"Yes. I just have to uncork it and say an incantation, and I'll be sent back," Mirabelle replied, knowing it wasn't as simple as that, "though you're going to have to stand back."

Mildred did as she was told, giving the older witch enough space to do just that, while all the time wondering just how long it would be before her mum came back. Her mum had been working hard recently, so her shifts were hard enough to keep track.

Mirabelle, meanwhile, was about to uncork the bottle to leave, but she stopped and she reached into an inner pocket of her robes and drew out a heavy volume which was spelled to be weightless. She handed the leather-bound volume to the teenager. Mildred examined it closely. "What's this?" she asked.

Although she was instinctively upset her descendent didn't recognise the book, Mirabelle had to suppress her outrage since it made sense Mildred didn't recognise the book and how special it was. "This is the Hubble family grimoire. Every magical family has one," Mirabelle explained, "I know you want nothing to do with magic or the magical world, Mildred, but don't push your heritage away just because of what's happened. Please, keep it."

Mildred quirked a brow, surprised Mirabelle was doing this, and she looked deeply at the woman to see if she was manipulating her in some manner to return to the witching world. She saw no sign of manipulation, just honesty that made her nearly cry. Had she become so….suspicious about the magical world and its people that she no longer felt she could give them the benefit of the doubt? Well, she supposed it was their own fault; after the way she'd been treated before, during, and after her expulsion, no-one could blame her. But she had to admit, she was nonetheless curious about what was in the book.

Before she realised she was doing it, Mildred had flung herself at Mirabelle. "Thank you," she whispered at the woman.

Mirabelle wrapped her arms gratefully around Mildred. For a moment that was timeless, Mirabelle and Mildred, held each other before Mildred broke the hug and let go and stepped away from the older witch with a smile. Mirabelle smiled back and after a long moment, but then there was a sound from the front door.

"Hi, Mildred," Julie greeted as she stumbled into the flat, shrugging off her jacket. "Sorry it took me forever to get back, but work was murder." She was moving too quickly and speaking too rapidly to notice the visitor, but when she did she stiffened noticeably. "Who's this?" Julie asked, hackles rising at the sight of the woman who was clearly a witch, but then her voice became more puzzled. "Why do you look like me?"

Mirabelle was too choked up to reply.

"Mum, this Mirabelle Hubble. She's our ancestor," Mildred explained.

Julie looked at her daughter, wondering if she'd finally lost it. "Our what?" she demanded.

"I'm your ancestor," Mirabelle repeated, looking solemnly at her great-granddaughter. "And yes, I am a witch, but because of my actions magic in our family was given away in order to save a magical object of great power, resulting in many generations of our family losing our powers."

"I…see," Julie said slowly, clearly not understanding. "This is going to be good," she said, quickly recovering.

Mirabelle sighed. It took Julie an hour to understand from Mirabelles' talk about the family history, the ups and lows, the founding of the coven and the reasons why the Magic Council had given them a Founding Stone in order to grow the coven and make it big. She also described what happened to the Stone, and what had made her travel into the future to see for herself what had happened with the family, and she also told Julie she had been horrified by what she'd learnt had happened to Mildred at Cackles.

The clear anger and shame of what her fellow magicians had done to Mildred did more to win brownie-points with Julie than anything else. During the whole tale, Julie had been disbelieving that after all this time a witch was in their lives, and yet as Mirabelle went on she realised the witch genuinely was a member of their family, albeit a distant one.

When the tale was over, Mirabelle looked between her great-granddaughters with a smile. "I'd better be going," she said, gazing at them with a kind manner that, visually, reminded both Mildred and Julie of Ada Cackle, yet Mirabelle's smile reminded them both of Granny Hubble. "I think I'm ready."

Mirabelle turned to Mildred with a gentle smile, "Good luck."

Turning to Julie, Mirabelles' smile became more wistful. "I'm sorry we didn't get to know each other well enough," she said regretfully, "but I am delighted our family is full of good people."

Julie smiled at the compliment. The smile was still on her face when Mirabelle uncorked the bottle containing the fragment of the Mists of Time, and she spoke the incantation that would take her back into the past. When the witch had left, Julie looked at her daughter.

"What did you think?" Julie asked Mildred.

"Of what?"

"Of Mirabelle. What did you think of her?"

Mildred looked down at the grimoire, touched that her ancestor had given her the book. With it she hoped to finally understand her family and its history. "I thought she was nice," Mildred confessed, "in fact, she was more honest than any witch I've met in the past. I know why she gave me this," she said, holding up the book.

Julie frowned at it. "What is it?"

"It's like an encyclopaedia of our family, its history, and of magic in general. The only thing is…I don't think magic is ready to come back into our family. Maybe in another few generations, it will be," Mildred said thoughtfully before she looked into her mothers' eyes. "I also felt sorry for her, for having to shoulder that burden. I hope in the past she still lives to a great age and even if she loses her powers and has to see her children and grandchildren lose their powers, she's happy in the end."

Julie hoped so as well.

Well, thats it for this one.

Merry Christmas. Please tell me what you think, and I wish you well.