A/N - I have been a fan of Sir Pterry for over twenty years (it would have been longer, but dad wouldn't let me read Discworld before the age of nine). I've just finished reading I Shall Wear Midnight and thoroughly enjoyed it. This story follows on about two years after. Contains sort of spoilers, so don't read this if you haven't read the novel. And if you have read the novel, go back and re-read it - it's brilliant!

Disclaimer - all characters are copyright Terry and Lynn Pratchett. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

It was a good cheese. Not her best, but a good cheese none the less, and making it had helped Tiffany calm down after a particularly busy day. Mrs Poorchick wasn't supposed to have been due for another month, so it was fortunate that Nanny Ogg had been visiting and was able to take over with Mrs Goodcow's delivery while Tiffany untied her broomstick from the fencepost.

Tiffany gave a sigh. The baby boy was small, but it had been a surprisingly uncomplicated early birth and now both were resting. It had been a good day. A busy day, but a good day, and she would be turning eighteen tomorrow.

There was a knock at the door and a trying-to-disturb-without-disturbing cough, followed by a smothered giggle. Tiffany turned.

The Baron and Baroness stood in the open doorway. Leticia had a large, eager smile on her face, while Roland was doing a better job of concealing his excitement.

"Greetings Miss Aching," Roland said. Tiffany arched an eyebrow, but a sideways glance at Leticia told her that Roland was being official on purpose. She bowed, and motioned them inside the dairy. Horace rolled towards the couple, but stayed silent and still after Leticia leaned down to pat him. This shouldn't have surprised Tiffany, but sometimes she found it easy to forget Leticia was a witch, with a natural ability for headology, even for rogue cheeses.

"I have been speaking with your father," Roland said. Tiffany frowned. She had spent an hour helping her father deal with a nasty case of Licky End and he had not mentioned any conversation with the Baron. "Tomorrow you will be turning eighteen..."

"I am aware of that," said Tiffany. Roland coughed and looked a little embarrassed.

"We have a surprise for you!" Leticia burst out, jumping straight to the point. There was a rustling in the rafters at the mention of a surprise. Tiffany was only slightly amazed it had taken this long for the Feegles to give themselves away, especially Daft Wullie, who she was sure ought to have made a comment upon the arrival of the Baron.

Tiffany followed Roland and Leticia out of the dairy and towards the open expanse of the chalk. They were heading in the direction of Granny Aching's hut, or at least the wheels and iron stove that remained of it.

Just before the wheels and stove came into view, Roland took a right turn, briefly accompanied by some confused grumbling from the grass as the Feegle worked out the change in direction, and then Tiffany gasped.

A small cottage had been built on the chalk.

"Your father was concerned that your nightly witch's responsibilities were becoming more frequent," Roland explained as Tiffany just stared. "He still wakes up and waits up when you go out."

Tiffany knew this, but had tried not to think about it. She walked up to the cottage door and turned.

It was in the perfect location. She could see the whole steading and even the edges of the White Horse. Her hand went, without her thinking about it, to the golden hare she wore at her neck.

"Does Preston know about this?" she asked, quietly.

"He helped to build it," Roland replied with a smile. "Well, he sort of supervised it. His students were more than willing to lend a hand."

"There's more to see!" Leticia was almost bursting with enthusiasm as she took Tiffany's hand and led her to the side of the cottage where a previously unnoticed outhouse stood. This was filled with straw at one end and had string dangling from the ceiling beams.

"Ach! It's a home for yer besom!" cried Rob Anybody and Tiffany laughed. He was right, it was. A proper home for her broomstick, complete with straw for her to fall in on those occasions she just couldn't land the stick properly.

"It's perfect," she said, returning to Roland and Leticia. "And what is the rent due on a piece of real estate like this? I don't suppose second hand clothes will be acceptable."

Roland actually chuckled at this, and for a moment Tiffany saw a glimpse of the boy she had grown up with, before the weight of the world had been placed on his young shoulders.

"There will be a rent due," he said, sliding an arm around Leticia's waist. "But it'll be due in about six months."

Of course, Tiffany realised. Leticia was glowing.

"That is a rent I can and will pay," Tiffany said, hugging the expectant mother.

The Baron and Baroness returned to the castle, while Tiffany, with the help of the Nac Mac Feegle of course, made herself at home.

A short while later there was a knock at the door. She opened it to see Preston, holding a small bunch of flowers. Tiffany smiled, held up a finger and briefly closed the door.

"I'd like to be alone now Rob Anybody," she said, with a careful tone to her voice. "Alone with Preston."

"Aye, this is a private bigjob moment, ye ken," Rob Anybody replied.

"Why don't you go and tell the kelda that the hag o' the hills has a new home?" Tiffany suggested, meaningfully.

"It were her idea..." Daft Wullie began to protest, but Rob Anybody trod heavily on his foot.

"Aye, the kelda ought to be tol'," Rob Anybody agreed, shooing his protesting brothers out of the window.

Tiffany counted to five, to be sure they had all left, took a deep breath and reopened the door to Preston with a large smile on her face.

It would not be long before something required the witch's attention, but for now, she took off the hat and enjoyed being Tiffany Aching.