The Witches In the Willows

 

A Family of Witches
(Close relations of mine)

The Beginning Before

(A prologue-in-progress)

It was love at first sight when Petulia Picklewhip’s parents, Pablo and Sophia-Paloma spied each other across the lawn. The Priory’s feted Cauldron Casserole Fiesta was boiling at full bubble. The day was brilliantly sunny. But as soon as the couple ogled each other, lightning flashed, tree tips fizzed and a shower of warm rain sprinkled down. A purple rainbow even appeared, in a perfect arch over the experimental topiary garden.

Pablo was a well-known wizard of twenty-five years.

Sophia-Paloma was a well-known witch of twenty-one. 

That afternoon, Motherwitch McMinty won ‘Best Potion’ for the 500^th year in a row, with her Bewitching Belladonna Youthful Forever Formula. Meanwhile, Pablo and Sophia-Paloma were concocting a spell to make the cherry tree they were sitting under in the Bonsai garden, burst into blossom. Pink, papery petals soon unfolded and they discovered their lifelong ambitions were the same! They both wanted to make good witchcraft. The world as they knew it was becoming increasingly filled with untidy, land grabbing witches. Forests were being cut down willy nilly. Crystal lakes were being polluted. Witch-castle prices were through the turrets! False nonsense by the way of misinforwitchmation was being spread across the land.

While the couple chatted, Pablo studied Sophia-Paloma’s features. Her long hair was as shiny and as black as a raven’s. Her eyes were the softest silver-grey. Her skin the softest ivory. Her high-necked, black taffeta gown was extremely flattering. And she smelt fantastic. She was wearing the latest and most hypnotic witch-fragrance on the market – Poisonne by Cauldron Klein.

At the same time, Sophia-Paloma studied Pablo. She admired his dark hair, slicked back into a wizard-bun. His smiling moustache waxed into two, upturned tips. His ruby red lips, which revealed a mouthful of pearly-white, slightly pointy teeth, when he talked. (Pablo had a slight lisp, witch she also thought cute.) His eyes were as green as green glass bottles. Pablo wore a snappy black suit and a white shirt with a very stiff collar. His boots were black lace-ups with sharp pointy toes. In fact, everything about Pablo was sharp! Especially his wit. That was razor-sharp! 

The priory bell rang. It was time for supper – share plates of meaty cauldron-casseroles. 

Pablo fashioned a ring from a piece of gold thread and the skull of a blackbird that he found in his pocket. He slipped it on Sophia-Paloma’s ring finger. ‘Will you be my best-witch-wife?’ 

A smile crept over Sophia-Paloma’s face, and the apples of her cheeks turned a rosy blush. ‘If you will be my best-wizard-husband?’ she replied. 

They held hands and said together, ‘I will!’ While unicorns pooed glitter in a far-off unicornverse.

‘We’ll live a long happy life together casting make-better spells on all the wicked people,’ beamed Sophia. (She’d recently won Kindest-Eco-Witch-of-the-Year.)

‘And we’ll have a happy family with lots of little witches and wizards running about,’ said Pablo. (He was an only wizard-child and had longed for siblings to turn into moths.)

Then they kissed, a very polite but very electric witch-kiss. The sky went dark. Cloud-sized, golden fireworks crackled and fluttered out of the sky. Hand in hand, they ran back to the crowd to share their magical news.

They had set a date for their wedding. It would take place in exactly one year’s time. On exactly the same day. The sixth day of the sixth month, June 1866.

Sophia-Paloma already knew their first child would be a girl, and they would name her Petulia Paloma.

Unfortunately, Motherwitch McMinty knew too …

PLEASE NOTE: This work of fiction (like all writing) is protected by copyright. This simply means do not copy it in any shape or form. If you do your hair will fall out! Or you may turn into a mouse. You have been warned.