I Wish You Would, a worst witch fanfic

A/N: Hi, lovelies! I wrote this Hicsqueak/mostly HB fic because I've been on a Taylor Swift kick lately to celebrate the coming of REPUTATION in two months (it's fine, I'm fine, I'm v. excited though!) and I've had this song on repeat for days! It seems to really fit, and the beginning seemed like a fun way for Hecate to get there!

I started writing in present tense but then switch to past tense halfway through so I don't know what's up with that, but whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tenses are ALLLLLLLLL over the place and I'm super unhappy with it, but it's late and I'm tired so just gloss over them please 3 Also this is completely unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. Please send love, chocolate and reviews xoxo

As she rounds the corner to check on her first year students, Hecate hears strains of a bubbly, pop song. She internally sighs — she's tired and doesn't want to deal with this.

She straightens her shoulders, pulls her fur-lined leather cloak around her nightclothes and bursts into the room.

Typical. Of course the student in question would be Mildred Hubble. And Enid Nightshade and Maud Spellbody. Ugh. She really doesn't get paid enough to deal with annoying young witches.

"What have we here?" she softly and slowly purrs, briefly satisfied by the look of pure fear and anxiety in the young girls' faces. She hasn't lost her touch one bit.

Her eagle eyes spot Mildred Hubble press on a rectangle and slide it under her pillow. Aha.

She turns to the pajama-clad Maud and Enid. "Ladies, it is after lights-out, so I suggest you get back to your rooms, unless you want to add a manual labor detention to the lines I have yet to set you all."

Maud and Enid sneak brief looks at Mildred before scrambling off the bed and out the door to their own rooms.

Hecate fixes her attention on the girl on the bed, worriedly chewing her braid.

"Mildred, what is that you are trying to hide?"

Again, she briefly enjoys the look of annoyance and upset on Mildred's face as she scrambles to think of an acceptable answer that will appease her form mistress.

"Nothing!" Mildred replies quickly — too quickly.

Hecate just looks at her and Mildred blushes and pulls the rectangle out from under the pillow.

"It's…um…it's a music device called an iPod. You can download and play music on it," Mildred says hesitantly.

Hecate rolls her eyes. "Mildred, you and your friends may think I am permanently stuck in the 18th century, but contrary to popular belief, I do have a solid grasp on modern technology, even if I'm ensconced at Cackle's for nine months of the year."

Mildred hesitates, and then says something to break up the brief silence that followed Hecate's statement.

"So…can I keep my iPod? It's just that," she says, stumbling over her words. "My mum gave this to me for my birthday and she'd saved for ages and ages to buy it, and gave me special permission to bring it to school."

Hecate stops and thinks for a second. Surely, she can afford to be magnanimous, right? She closes her eyes briefly.

"Alright, Mildred — seeing as how it is past both of our bedtimes, I won't be as harsh as I usually would be in this case. Your punishment will be writing lines with your fellow curfew-breakers, and," Hecate pauses, seeing that Mildred thought she got off lightly.

"And I will be confiscating your iPod for a week. I trust that you will take the week to think about your actions," she says.

"But Miss Hardbroom! —" Mildred stops short, seeing the look on her teachers face and decides not to argue further.

Hecate smiles. Perfect.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mildred," Hecate says slowly, savoring the words rolling off her tongue. "You'll be seeing that next week," she points at the silver rectangle resting on Mildred's bed.

Mildred reluctantly hands the teacher her prized possession, and Hecate turns to leave, grasping the iPod in the palm of her hand.

Thinking better of it, the dark-haired woman turns around thoughtfully.

"What were you girls listening to, anyway?"

"Taylor Swift, Miss Hardbroom. She's rumored to be coming out with a new album soon, and my mum downloaded all of her albums onto my new iPod before I came to Cackle's."

Hecate purses her lips — she doesn't know who this Taylor Swift is, but she guesses she'll find out very soon.

The teacher nods and leaves Mildred's room, after turning out the lights and reminding her young charge that it was still lights-out and she needed to be asleep promptly, and well rested for double Potions in the morning.

Returning to her room after finishing her rounds, Hecate hangs up her cloak and crawls in bed, still clutching the iPod. Spelling the device to emit sound without use of headphones, she scrolls to the Taylor Swift playlist and hit shuffle, immediately relishing in the catchy beat. The playlist was normally not her cup of (musical) tea, but was fascinating at the very least.

The first tear rolls down Hecate's cheek not even thirty seconds into the song. Dammit, what is wrong with her?!

It's 2 AM in your car
Windows down, you pass my street, the memories start
You say it's in the past, you drive straight ahead
You're thinking that I hate you now
'Cause you still don't know what I never said

She sniffles, feeling absolutely ridiculous and more than a little cross at herself for even crying in the first place. She rarely cries, especially not over something as silly as a pop song confiscated from one of her students.

I wish you would come back,
Wish I never hung up the phone like I did.
And I wish you knew that I'll never forget you as long as I live.
And I wish you were right here, right now, it's all good.
I wish you would

It's been years since she'd even thought of her. Hadn't it? Hecate huffs heavily, exasperated with herself. Who was she kidding? She thinks about her former best friend just about every day for the past few decades, even though she tries to forget. But it's impossible to forget how she walked, how she made a point of touching Hecate all the time — she'd never had a friend who was that touchy feely before — how she even smelled pink, if that was possible.

I wish we could go back
And remember what we were fighting for.
And I wish you knew that I miss you too much to be mad anymore
And I wish you were right here, right now, it's all good.
I wish you would

She didn't want to end her friendship, the only real friendship she'd ever had, but she didn't see another option. It felt like yesterday even though it was decades ago, but one day she woke up and realized she was deeply in love with the perky blonde who'd managed to burrow her way into Hecate's heart.

You always knew how to push my buttons
You give me everything and nothing
This mad mad love makes you come running
To stand back where you stood
I wish you would, I wish you would
I wish you would, I wish you would

Hecate thinks back on that day — she was so sure that she was doing the right thing by ending their friendship when she did. So sure that it was for the best and that they both would move on. She had other friends, other more pretty, extraverted and popular friends, and Hecate had…no one. She didn't — doesn't — get close to many people, but maybe that was okay. As long as she would be okay, then it didn't matter, right?

After the song ends, Hecate spends a long time staring at her dark purple ceiling, letting her body go boneless on the black fluffy blanket beneath her. Emotions that she actively tries to avoid, and has successfully avoided for years, are bubbling up to the surface. Maybe she should reach out? But it's been far too long; she couldn't do that. Right? Ugh.

Hecate suddenly sits up and crosses to her desk. Writing a short note to Pippa surely wouldn't hurt — the worst the blonde witch could do is to return the note to Hecate, or possibly set it on fire; she'd always been one for pyrotechnics.

She smiles to herself and writes the note, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst; not that it got any worse than losing the one person she cared for most. She'll send it tomorrow after her double potions class.

The Next Day:

Hecate stands in front of her first year class, and inwardly rolls her eyes. She can't believe that Mildred Hubble's cat was scared of a mouse and that's why she was late to class — a likely story! A pink-clad Miss Cackle, who dresses in much of the same colors as Pippa did, come to think of it, addresses the class.

She mentally slaps herself to pay attention to her employer's announcement. The sooner she finishes, the sooner class can commence; the first years' potions knowledge was sorely lacking.

"As I'm sure you're aware, Cackle's Academy are currently reigning champions of the annual Spelling Bee," Miss Cackle says jovially to the young class. "As we currently have the title we are guaranteed a place in this year's finals, to be held here tomorrow. Which means two lucky witches will have the honor of competing against Miss Pentangle's Academy."

Hecate's body goes curiously cold and she attempts to school her facial features into some semblance of normalcy before her poker face shifts too dramatically. Feeling oddly detached from her body and feeling a need to clarify, she turns slightly to Ada.

"Miss Pentangle's?" she says, with a hint of panic in her voice; panic that she is sure Ada picks up on.

"That's right," Miss Cackle replies.

Hecate hears her boss continue to speak to the class, but she can't quite follow what is being said. Well, she thinks wryly, obviously panicking, at the very least she won't have to send that letter…