Page 71 of Rewitched

The allegory had lit up as soon as Belle lifted Jinx to place a padded paw upon the page, and the sheer relief was a happy respite. It was when Artorius suggested they dip their toes back into Alchemy, with the second of the benevolent potions, that things had taken a turn for the worse.

“Maybe it makes more sense to cover more Earth Sorcery theory first and understand what I’m actually chucking in the pot before I start trying to combine all of this lot,” Belle said in compromise while turning back to stir the soupy sludge.

“Very well. I’m sure your mother will be delighted that we are venturing into her specialist subject while she’s here with us. I dare say it’s time we checked on her, anyway,” Artorius added, glancing at the face of the dusty grandfather clock.

Bonnie had slept in the guest room almost continuously since her vanishing a week ago, Wolfie guarding her bedside loyally and Jinx joining them when it suited her. The animals were surprisingly amicable with one another, Wolfie only occasionally accepting a perfunctory swipe to the snout if she acted in any way that Jinx did not approve of.

Bonnie promised Belle that she was now well enough to emerge, joining them as they convened in the living room. Under her arm, the elder witch gripped her own grimoire, the threadbare spine clinging on for dear life. Pages stuck out at every possible angle like a beloved family scrapbook, decades of learning gathered and celebrated, along with several ringed tea stains on the front cover.

“I haven’t been this well rested in…well, probably thirty years, actually,” Bonnie said.

Artorius slid himself from the plump armchair, patting Belle fondly on the shoulder. “I’ll get the kettle on.” He shuffled out of the living room, leaning on Wolfie as he went, who followed alongside for a guaranteed biscuit. As soon as he was out of earshot, Bonnie grabbed Belle by both arms and forced her to sit down on the sofa.

“I’m sure there’s a million things you’ve been keeping from me.” She spoke quickly and a little fretfully, scanning her daughter’s face for any signs that something might not be quite right. “How are you getting on? Are you okay?”

“Still no luck with Alchemy. I feel like my magic is…holding back on me?”

“If part of you is unsure of what could lie ahead with this, then it’s bound to affect your craft,” Bonnie said thoughtfully.

“But it’s almost the other way around. My instinct truly believes that I’m safe. You probably think I’m mad for it, but I know I’m not at risk from Artorius and his magic.”

Bonnie hesitated, then gave a small smile. “I happen to agree.”

“You do?” Belle glanced up from picking at her fingers.

“Funnily enough, yes. I worry about you incessantly. It’s my job and has been for three decades. But it only took a moment of being in this house to feel that you’re…meant to be here. The care, the loyalty…it is palpable. That man is not the monster that Selcouth has believed him to be, which is confusing…but reassuring.”

Belle felt instantly soothed. “I mean, how could anyone be scared of that?” She jerked her head towards the kitchen, which was currently echoing with the dulcet tones of a warbling old man singing a power ballad and harmonising with Wolfie’s howl.

“This whole situation continues to grow stranger by the day, darling. But we know that Selcouth is overseeing. I know Cas wouldn’t let anything that didn’t follow the rules go ignored, for one. And there’s that watchman of yours.”

Belle instantly felt her face flush and tried to play off her embarrassment. “It’s reassuring, I guess, to know that he’s around.”

“Rune Dunstan. Nice lad, handsome.” Bonnie pursed her lips tightly, attempting to keep a straight face. There was that frustrating, knowing glint in her eye which appeared whenever Belle so much as mentioned someone of the opposite sex.

“Stop. If you utter one more word, I fear I may die right here on this couch.”

“I won’t say a thing!” her mother replied indignantly, hands to her chest in surrender. A rattling tea tray emerged from behind the door.

“Ladies, I apologise profusely for the interruption.” Artorius, pink bobble hat first, poked his head into the room. “I will adjourn to the attic and meet you there. I’ve also whipped up some rather good eclairs, if that bribes you at all…”

“I have never known someone to have such a constant supply of cakes in my entire life. It’s impressive, Arty.”

“We’ll be right there,” Bonnie told him kindly as he began ascending the stairs with a full orchestral soundtrack of groaning floorboards, rattling teacups and his own vocals.

“Allow your magic to lead the way, Belle,” Bonnie said, turning back to her daughter with eyes radiating her signature soft kindness. “I know that may feel like an unnatural, confusing challenge when you’re so used to letting your logical non-wicche side take over all the time. But just this once, try surrendering to it.”

“EARTH SORCERY: TO be at one with nature itself.”

Belle and Artorius were seated in what had become their designated chairs while Bonnie took centre stage in the attic. Rune, much to Belle’s mortification, had joined the lesson as planned. She’d assumed that their argument would have left him sulking, but he’d transferred just as he said he would. They said a curt hello, Belle immediately busying herself elsewhere, and he parked himself in the bay window after a formal introduction with Artorius, both men equally wary of the other. Belle was surprised that Artorius perhaps seemed the more antagonistic of the two, eyeing up his new acquaintance with the look of an untrusting, overprotective father. Even if he was almost a foot shorter.

“Watchman, eh?” He peered over his glasses. “A fine job you seem to have been doing, young man, looking after our girl.”

“With respect, we have no idea what we’re up against. There’s only so much protection I can…”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Ignore him,” she told Rune.

Artorius shot her a mischievous wink and hissed a laugh.