wiccancharmedguy: Nope, it's certainly not! Read on to see if Hecate makes it—or just gets tortured some more.

Duchene-fan: LOL at the brain-twistery. I hope that means good twistery and not, 'Er, that doesn't even make SENSE.' Because if it's the latter mind you let me know. I'm not trying to confuse people. Much.

phantomlistener: Cliffhanger? Was there a cliffhanger? Thanks for the comment re the Mildreds and the rapport between the older Mildred/Constance. Bit more of that coming up.

the stargate time traveller: That would be telling, wouldn't it!

Dreamsinlilac: Thank you! I'm having great fun with this so it's nice to know readers are enjoying it too.

ZeIncomparableEm: Well. You should be happy, milady, because instead of doing what I should have done (to wit, written more of MH) I have produced more of this, um, effusion. With specific bits for your delectation which I'm certain you will easily divine.

Now to the story. Allons-y! (Yes, I know. Wrong fandom. Minor detail)

Four

Miss Hubble reached Maud and Hecate first. The girl was crouched beside her form mistress (Mildred paused at that thought; was Hecate Maud's form mistress? Impossible to think otherwise) and squeezing her hand in a manner that Mildred absolutely knew would send the woman into an apoplexy of affronted dignity if she'd known of it. Conjuring a light, she wasted no time in bending over the older woman, all her senses trained on detecting any sign of life. Certainly the initial signs were not encouraging. Hecate was pale unto death and her lips were an alarming shade of blue, but when Mildred looked closely she could see the barely perceptible rise and fall of the other woman's chest. Furthermore, her pulse was sound—stronger than Amelia's, in fact.

Frowning, Mildred carefully replaced the thin wrist on the ground and sent Maud running for the blankets she and Sybil had brought. There was no doubt that Hecate was unwell, but was she truly as unwell as she seemed? At least there was no mistaking the state of the woman's foot. That was broken, pure and simple, and badly too if Mildred was any judge.

'Well, Mildred?' Constance asked and she turned in relief.

'It's strange. Maud to the contrary, she is breathing, you can see if you watch very carefully, and her other signs are … Well, they're not great but I don't think she's in any imminent danger of dying.'

Constance looked dubious. 'Are you certain? She looks—'

'I know.' Mildred scrambled to her feet and stepped towards the Deputy Headmistress, her voice lowering. 'It is only looks, though. As far as I can see the most serious injury is the foot—and goodness knows, that's bad enough.'

'Very well.' Standing this close, Mildred did not miss Constance's quiet sigh. 'I shall see to it, Mildred. Thank you. Now if you could—'

'What about your foot?' Mildred heard Sybil say and she turned to see the Chanting mistress approach with Maud by her side, both laden with the pillows and blankets the latter was sent to fetch. 'And don't try to deny it, Constance. Mil said she thought you'd been hurt and I've been watching. You're limping.'

Constance's eyes narrowed dangerously. 'A slight twist, no more.'

Sybil raised her eyebrows and Mildred shrugged in resigned response. They watched as Maud covered Hecate with the blankets; she was perhaps less careful than she could have been and Mildred was unsurprised when Constance protested.

'Watch her foot, Maud Moon—oh. Maud Spellbody!' Mildred found herself exchanging a quick grin with Sybil at the slip and Constance noticed. 'Anything to say, girls?' The emphasis she put on that last word sent Mildred, at least, skipping back fifteen years—but Sybil was not so easily ruffled.

'Only that you seem to have overlooked something, Miss Hardbroom.'

'Oh?'

'Your injured foot, Constance,' Sybil insisted with the calm self-assurance Mildred had come to associate with all the Hallows of her acquaintance. 'It's your left, isn't it?'

Constance's eyes had narrowed into dark slits for the second time in nearly as many minutes, but she nodded. Mildred watched Sybil closely as the younger woman continued, some instinct telling her to pay attention.

'Well, it's the same as Hecate's. And Mil, have you noticed you and Millie each have a nasty bump just here?' Sybil touched the sore spot on the side of Mildred's head and she flinched, but the pain made her think.

'What about Ada and Amelia? Ada seems fine, but Amelia—'

'I think her situation resembles Hecate's,' Constance said slowly. 'Unlike Hecate, she has no obvious injury beyond the seeming … coma, for want of a better word. I have watched her carefully since the explosion and I believe she too looks more ill than she actually is.'

'That doesn't explain why Ada's OK. And it's no use if neither of them wake up,' Mildred added gloomily. 'You said yourself we need everyone to put things right.'

'Enough of this,' Constance snapped when Sybil seemed poised to comment further. 'There's too much talking and not enough doing. Maud, run and find … Millie … and see if the two of you can't get some rest. It must be nearly midnight by now.'

Mildred peered at her watch. 'Half eleven.'

'Well past your bedtime,' Miss Hardbroom added in her sternest tones and Maud reluctantly obeyed, leaving the three adults alone.

'Make that light brighter, Mildred,' Constance instructed as she bent forward to reveal Hecate's twisted foot. 'Higher, I need to see what I'm doing.' Her fingers were already in the casting position and Sybil grabbed her arm before she could begin, an act of temerity that made Mildred's light bob in surprise.

'Wait. Mil, is it safe? Didn't you say something about the Foster's Effect earlier?'

Now the look Constance sent them was positively filthy. 'Do you take me for a fool, Sybil Hallow? Naturally I've already done a reversing spell. The Foster's Effect should be negligible. Now get out of my way!'

Sybil obeyed with a small grimace only Mildred could see, but her eyes were worried.

'I'm still not sure about this,' she whispered into Mildred's ear as Constance began the spell that should repair Hecate's broken ankle. 'I've got a bad feeling—'

'Too late now,' Mildred murmured—but she held her breath until Constance pronounced the foot repaired and turned to her former pupils with a smile that could more honestly be described as a smirk.

'You see, girls?'

Before they could reply a rasping voice queried, 'A-ada?'

Sybil ran for the other Miss Cackle while Mildred dropped to her knees beside Hecate.

'How are you feeling, Miss Hardbroom? Constance—that is, our Miss Hardbroom—has just fixed your ankle. It was broken. You might have concussion too—'

Hecate was peering at her, dark eyes clouded. 'Who are you? Where's Ada? Where am I?'

Mildred's heart sank. They hadn't anticipated this. 'I'm Miss Hubble, Miss Hardbroom.' No point in befuddling the woman further by saying she was Mildred Hubble. 'You've had a … slight accident. We've sent for Miss Cackle, but here's Constance now.'

'Ada …' Hecate's eyes fluttered as though it was taking too much effort to keep awake.

'Hecate Hardbroom!' Constance boomed and Mildred jumped. 'You have a head injury. You must not go back to sleep!'

Hecate's eyes flew open and Mildred found herself quailing at the dark look that passed between the two HBs.

'Who are you?' Hecate said again, and Mildred's tummy flipped. The thought of Miss Hardbroom—any Miss Hardbroom in any universe being as afraid as Hecate sounded at this moment was fundamentally wrong, the very antithesis of what should be.

If only Constance hadn't sent Maud away.

She stared fixedly at the corner to where the two girls were attempting to make themselves comfortable until Millie turned; a wave summoned the child to her side.

'Mildred—' Constance warned, and the younger woman met her eyes squarely.

'I'm not going to touch her. I'm not an idiot, whatever you might think, but Hecate's panicking. She'll have a stroke if we don't calm her down.'

Constance's sniff indicated her opinion of this, but when Millie reached them she beckoned the girl closer.

'Now, Mildred,' she began and the older Mildred twitched despite herself; that authoritative tone still had an effect. 'Miss Hardbroom is awake but she's a little upset and she's not sure where she is. Your job is to reassure her until Miss Hallow arrives with Miss Cackle, understood?'

Millie nodded eagerly and sat by her teacher, who seemed rigid with fear, and spoke very softly. 'Miss? Miss Hardbroom?'

'Mildred Hubble,' Hecate murmured. The dark eyes opened. 'Of course it would be.'

'It's OK, Miss Hardbroom,' Millie said, leaning close enough that one long plait swung forward to brush Hecate's shoulder. 'Everyone's OK and—and we're trying to find a way back to our own worlds—'

'What?!' Hecate echoed, her voice turning shrill. 'Worlds?! What do you— Ada. Ada! Where's Ada?'

'That worked well,' Constance hissed to Mildred as she chivvied Millie away. 'Sybil! Get Ada here at the double, if you have to drag her!' She turned back to Hecate, saying urgently: 'Hecate, focus on my voice. You are safe. Ada is safe, she's on her way. Tell me, what's the last thing you remember?'

Hecate's breathing was coming in quick gasps.

'Ada…' Her skin took on a pearly pallor and Mildred's gut twisted in renewed anxiety. what if she'd been wrong about Hecate's state? What would it mean for them all if she died? 'Where's Ada…?'

'Here!' Sybil called and Mildred twisted to see the chanting mistress urging the other Miss Cackle along. She seemed unwilling, her steps dragging, and with Sybil's earlier comments still ringing in her ears Mildred observed her closely.

She had seemed unharmed earlier; indeed, on the surface Ada had fared better than anyone else in the aftermath of the explosion. Something had changed in the meantime. Now she looked tired—desperately tired, exhaustion emphasising every line and wrinkle in her face. She stumbled as she approached and only Mildred's reflexive grab kept her upright.

Not that Mildred got any thanks for her pains. Ada ignored her, her attention focused on her deputy.

'Is she—?'

'She's alive,' Constance said with a worn intensity that jerked Mildred's attention to her. She shivered at what she saw; if Hecate had looked pearly pale earlier, Constance had turned positively waxen, the dark circles around her eyes deepening with every passing second.

'Hecate,' Ada breathed and Mildred tore her gaze from her Deputy Headmistress to the pair on the floor. Ada seemed to hesitate before crouching by her deputy's side. 'Hecate, I'm here.'

But Hecate did not seem to see her. She stared straight past her, her eyes feverishly bright. 'Ada, I'm sorry—'

Ada took her hand, muttering something that sounded like, 'Hecate, stop this. I told you that—' but Mildred was no longer listening.

Constance was swaying where she stood and Mildred grabbed Sybil's arm and nodded. They moved towards their Deputy Headmistress but they were not fast enough, and Constance crumpled bonelessly to the ground.

'Bloody stubborn woman,' Sybil grumbled for the fifth time (or so it seemed) as they tried to bring Constance round. Mildred estimated it was nearly half an hour since the older woman lost consciousness, and every moment she remained unconscious tightened in the coil of fear in Mildred's belly.

'Why didn't she ask for help?' Sybil was muttering as she turned her attention to Constance's ankle. 'She's might be a bloody powerful witch and the closest thing to omniscience that Cackle's has, but she is not bloody immortal or infallible!'

'Try telling her that,' Mildred said sadly. She cradled her former mistress's head on her lap, having already unwound the fiendishly tight bun for comfort's sake. 'How's the foot? Is it broken, like—' but Sybil was shaking her head, frowning.

'It might be twisted, like she said, but I don't think there's a break.' She sat back on her heels, the line between her brows deepening. 'Mil, I'm sure it was painful but we both know Constance has a mind-bogglingly high pain threshold. I've seen her teach through a migraine that would have sent us straight to bed and spewing into buckets to boot. Amelia once told me it was because of that Broomhead woman—'

'Amelia!' Mildred interrupted. 'Sybs, isn't it odd that now we've lost both HBs and Amelia? Apart from us, the only adult left is Ada—'

'Who looks ready to fall over at a tap,' Sybil said. 'She was practically catatonic when I fetched her. She might not be hurt but—' She shrugged.

Mildred's jaw muscles clenched. 'Constance doesn't trust her.'

'Constance doesn't trust anyone.'

'She trusts us,' Mildred retorted, stung. 'She does. She trusts Amelia.'

'Can you imagine not trusting Amelia?' Sybil asked, eyebrows raised, and Mildred sighed, conceding that point.

She rubbed her temples, forcing her tired and shocked mind into something resembling logical thought.

'Two Cackle's Academies. Two Miss Hardbrooms. Two Miss Cackles. Only all of those are different. And—'

'Two of you,' Sybil reminded her with a grin. 'Maybe that's why the senior staffs are out of it, they can't cope with two Mildred Hubbles.'

'Ha ha,' Mildred returned sarcastically. 'But are we really perfect doubles?' Ignoring Sybil's indignant protests, she called her younger self over; she arrived with a stubborn-looking Maud and Mildred made no comment, simply indicating for the pair to sit down.

'Right, Millie,' she began. 'Since all this started everyone's done their level best to keep us apart, haven't they? They're all convinced that the worlds will end if we touch because we're supposed to be exactly the same people—'

'But you can't be,' Maud said. 'You're grown up and she's not. Even if you were the same person when you were our age, you're not now, are you?' She peered closely at Mildred. 'Millie's eyes are more like brown, but yours are ... they're greenish, really. And your hair is wavier and redder than hers—'

'I think you'll find that's out of a bottle,' Sybil supplied drily and Mildred sent her a scowl.

Maud continued unabashed. 'And I bet that's not all. I bet if you talked you'd find more.'

'Thanks, Maud. That's what I was trying to do,' Mildred told her. It was an effort to keep a waspish edge from her voice and—not for the first time since she'd started teaching—she found herself in sudden sympathy with her own former mistresses. 'If you don't mind?'

Maud went pink. 'Sorry, miss.'

Mildred relaxed. 'That's OK. And for the record, you're quite right. Millie, tell me about yourself. How long have you known you're a witch?'

She listened as Millie told her story. She heard about Maud and broomsticks and her mother (but no dad) and how Millie worried about her, all alone in their tiny flat. She heard about coming to Cackle's and houses and tabby kittens and flying tests gone mad and saving the school ... So much was familiar that Mildred would attempt to complete the story in her head, only to find that there were subtle but crucial differences. At any rate, it all boiled down to one conclusion: despite everyone's fears, she and Millie were not one and the same, and she let out the breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

'That confirms it,' Sybil said when Millie finally ran down. 'It's two separate universes. I don't think it's anything to do with time, there's no point I can see where everything suddenly changed, it's ... it's just the same, but different enough.'

Mildred nodded agreement. 'Which is a good thing,' she said, mainly for the sake of the troubled looking first years. 'That's progress. Now we know for certain what's going on, we've got a frog's chance of sorting it out.'

'And how, Mildred Hubble—or should that be Mildred Hubbles—do you propose to do that?' a quiet voice said from Mildred's lap and the little group started.

'Right on time, Constance,' Sybil said, leaning forward with a smile. 'As usual.'

'Hmmm.' Constance tried to sit up and Mildred helped her; once securely propped by the two young mistresses the Deputy Headmistress studied them all. 'Well?' she prompted weakly, and Mildred exchanged a worried look with Sybil over her head.

Millie was sitting embracing her knees, her chin resting atop them and the ends of her plaits brushing the floor. 'I was thinking—' she began tentatively.

'Hmm,' Constance said again. 'Go on, then.'

'Well, if this is like, two different worlds all mashed up ... can't we just separate them? And us? 'Cos think about it, right, we've all been jumbled up together since this started.'

'Good heavens, she's right,' Mildred said blankly. 'She's exactly right, Constance. Even if we've been in one Academy or the other, we've still nearly always been mixed up ourselves.'

'Apart from that time in my room. That was just us,' Sybil reminded her and Mildred nodded eagerly.

'Yes! And remember, Sybs, you didn't know anything until I told you. You were just sitting there drinking your tea, as if nothing had happened—'

'In that case the solution is simple,' Constance put in and everyone looked at her. Her lips twitched. 'Maud and ... Millie, you and your teachers will go to Ada's office. We shall proceed to the potions lab. We shall arrange to do the homing spell at the same time—'

'What's that, "there's no place like home" and click my heels three times?' Millie muttered to Maud. She had a clear voice and everyone heard.

Constance's eyes narrowed. 'Mildred Hubble—'

'Stop terrorising the kid, Constance,' Sybil said and Mildred blinked at the younger woman's audacity, taken aback by it all over again. Especially when Constance merely transferred her glare to Sybil but—wonder of wonders—allowed her to proceed. 'That's probably exactly what we should do. Remember what Amelia used to tell us, Mil? For spells it's the intention that matters, not the words. You can do a pirouette if you want, girls, provided your entire wills and hearts are focused on going home.'

'Like "Dorothy",' Millie said with a toothy grin and Sybil nodded.

'And just like Dorothy, you need to think about your heart's desire. That's probably getting back to your mum, Millie, and for Maud it's—'

'Just getting back to normal, miss,' that young woman said. 'I hate it when everything's all messed up.'

'As do I,' Constance agreed with a sigh. She sounded weaker again and Mildred cast her an anxious glance.

'Constance, I really think you should lie down.'

The older woman's jaw hardened. 'I can rest once this is sorted, Mildred. Restoring the status quo should be your priority, girls, not … fussing over patients.'

'Even when those patients are essential to restoring the status quo?' Sybil said pointedly and Constance rubbed the bridge of her nose. Her weariness was tangible, and in truth Mildred's own eyes were growing heavy. It had been a long day.

She yawned. 'I think we should sleep on it.'

'No.' The gravity in the Deputy Headmistress's tone startled her into complete alertness. 'We haven't got time for that.' She took a deep breath and began to quote: '"Experience has shown the the partial merging of universes within a magical context is inherently unstable. Consequently, this is a profoundly dangerous phenomena for those individuals caught within the resulting space-time bubble; no effort should be spared in facilitating the separation and realignment of the original universes within twenty-four hours of fusion. Failure to do so will lead to the subatomic collapse of one or both—and the deaths of all trapped therein."'

And at moment—almost as if something had been waiting—the lanterns sustained by the witches' magic winked out, plunging the dungeons into impenetrable darkness.

TBC

Next time: more questions, but will answers come fast enough to prevent catastrophe? Tune in and find out!

Don't forget to let me know what you think. Chuck in your thoughts and ideas (some of you will do that anyway ;) ) 'cos anything that keeps me thinking about this is GOOD.