Chapter 29
Grimoire Academy’s spring term ended on the Wednesday following the end of exams, and the last week was always fuzzy academically, more about pulling everything and everyone together than it was about teaching (or learning) in the traditional sense.
It was a week of short days, half periods where the students spent most of their time making portfolios of their work for the year or giving presentations about things they’d especially enjoyed.
Sometimes the professors could be convinced to let them watch movies.
Snacks were rife, and this year Amelia had announced that any professor who wished to allow phone usage in class could do so.
Mr Wicks, of course, chose not to, but Bryn let the kids have their phones.
Spirited debates were had. Students who didn’t always participate did so because there was no pressure.
There were no grades assigned for the work done that week.
No participation points credited or deducted.
Some of Bryn’s painstakingly put together groups even elected to do presentations.
She used the afternoons to finish grading and entering her grades—and one other thing, something she didn’t tell Amelia about until she needed her sign-off on it.
“Emergency teaching credential?” Amelia asked when Bryn showed her.
“It means you—or, I mean, the hiring committee—can really hire me now, not on a temporary basis. You can hire me on a permanent basis, as long as I am pursuing my studies and getting my final teaching credential. And I am.”
Amelia, of course, called in Mr Wicks, who was the head of the hiring committee, and presented the application to him instead.
Bryn held her breath, wondering if at this last moment he would morph into the uncompromising curmudgeon she’d always assumed him to be when she’d been his student.
But he smiled and signed it. When he handed it back to her, he shook her hand and said, “Welcome, officially, to Grimoire Academy, Professor Delmar. I look forward to seeing your development as a teacher.” And then he, not Amelia, sent a letter to every professor and staff member of the school to welcome her to their ranks.
She didn’t think this gesture should be so powerful, when she’d already been teaching there and they already knew her, but maybe that’s what made their response even more impactful.
They all seemed genuinely happy, like these were people who thought she could be a teacher alongside them.
She hadn’t been prepared for the emotions of it.
Graduation was held at dusk, and nearly every student, professor, and staff member gathered in the courtyard to wish the graduates well.
Even though she’d only been their teacher for half the year, Bryn felt like she had personally ushered these students through their schooling.
She was so proud of them and so excited by their achievements.
In the traditional way of witchy school graduations, each student marked their passing through the school halls by adding their particular spellfire to the grand cauldron in the middle of the courtyard—a cauldron which had seen thousands upon thousands of witches graduate over the years.
As the magical flames grew, some of them sparkled, some of them ignited in rainbow colors or neon or burning indigo.
A few particularly daring ones even managed to give off the impression of fiery birds flying away, turning into smoke.
As a student, Bryn had appreciated the spectacle of the thing; as a professor, she knew that no fewer than seven witches had their wands out just in case something didn’t quite come off correctly.
But this year, all the students’ magic worked.
The cauldron crackled and flamed into the night sky, and the graduates of Grimoire Academy were ushered into witchhood at last.
Bryn couldn’t help the tears on her face, turning to Amelia and reaching for her, and Amelia grabbed her back. One of their fourth-years called, “Just kiss already!” and everyone laughed.
They did not kiss. Not in front of the students, not in front of their co-workers, not in public, but they did laugh, and they did not drop their hands. It was one of the best nights of Bryn’s entire life, and she couldn’t believe she got to share it with the woman of her dreams.
Later—much later—after the celebratory feast and magical fireworks, and the tearful goodbyes, the professors gathered for what was evidently also a school tradition: a relaxed round of drinks and desserts in the smallest and most snug library.
Bryn felt suddenly like she’d been initiated into a secret society, and maybe she had been.
The mysterious professors’ mixer lasted less than an hour and included a lot of stories about the students who’d just graduated, some of which led to stories about past graduations. A way of the professors marking the end of yet another generation of Grimoire witches.
Amelia caught her eye as they were leaving. “Piper is going back to the dorms to say hi to Andi. There are only four kids over there to be picked up in the morning.”
“Oh good.” Bryn liked the idea of Piper and Andi locking down the dorms, maybe letting the kids stay up late.
Luna, not needed now that most of the kids had gone home, had said goodbye after the feast, making Bryn promise to call before she made any “big life choices”.
When Amelia had raised an eyebrow, Bryn had admitted mentioning to her sister that she did technically have an apartment in Denver that wasn’t being used; the location was good and the rent would be doable, maybe with a little help at first.
As she explained, Bryn was a little worried that it might sound like she wasn’t as committed to teaching as she should be, but Amelia’s eyes sparkled.
“You mean Luna would take over your place in Denver? That’s brilliant!” Then, since everyone else had left the library, Amelia kissed her. “My girlfriend is so frigging smart.”
Bryn’s heart leaped as if attempting to jump from her to curl up like a kitten in Amelia’s arms. “Oh, are we— I mean I’d love to be— I didn’t know if we were—”
“Do you want to be my girlfriend, Bryn?” Amelia asked, leaning in closer.
“Hell yes,” Bryn breathed, and closed the distance for another kiss.
“I want to show you something.” Amelia grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the library and towards the stairs.
Sometime later (and Bryn wasn’t entirely certain she could find her way back through all the old servants’ stairs and back halls they’d just traversed), Amelia stopped at a door.
She pulled out an ancient-looking brass key and inserted it into the lock, then gestured Bryn in as she closed it again behind them.
The motion-charmed lights came up, and Bryn found herself in a narrow passage with a rickety-looking staircase at the end of it, with what appeared to be blankets at the bottom.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?” Bryn asked, willing but also astonished that she didn’t already know.
“You’ll see,” Amelia said. “But you have to grab the pillows.”
Bryn did so, leaving Amelia with the fluffy blanket.
She followed up the steps, surprised when it resolved at the top to be only a platform to another staircase, which she hadn’t noticed going over their heads.
They climbed three such wooden staircases, magically lit and creaking, but not dangerously—at least, Bryn didn’t think so.
Amelia used the same key at the top of the final staircase and opened the door; fresh, warm air blew down into the stairs.
“Are we on the roof?” Bryn asked. “I had no idea there was roof access.”
“There is,” Amelia said. “Professor Herringbone gave me the key. She said most people, even most of the staff and professors, don’t know this exists, making us very special.”
Bryn smiled, pulling her in for a kiss. “I already knew you were special, Amelia Hexford.”
“Come on,” Amelia said. They emerged out onto the roof of the school.
It was strangely clear and clean—no evidence of animals, not even bird droppings.
Bryn could feel the breeze around them, but it didn’t feel the way she would have expected the roof of the castle to feel; it was almost as if they were buffered somehow.
She shifted her senses until she could perceive magic, and it was everywhere.
At first glance, she could not begin to understand the complex, intricate webs of magic around them.
She could see that it had been cast by more than one person at many different times, but that was about all she could tell.
Amelia nudged her with one shoulder, as both of them still had their arms full. “You see it, don’t you?”
“It’s amazing,” Bryn whispered.
“We don’t have to worry about being seen or heard either. We’re probably too high up anyway, but I once shouted as loud as I could and no one below even looked around. Think of the shielding spells they must have used.” She nodded upward. “I never knew this was here.”
“I didn’t either,” Bryn agreed. “I mean, I’ve looked at the castle, what, hundreds of thousands of times? I never even saw the magic.”
Amelia’s smile widened. “I know. It’s like we’re all alone at the top of the world, in a magical bubble.”
Bryn couldn’t help herself. She gently put the pillows down (instead of dramatically dropping them, as had been her first instinct) and reached for Amelia, pulling her in with a deep kiss.
Only the fluffy blanket came between them, which was a little awkward—but not that awkward.
“I love you, which I know I’ve already said, but I feel like I’ve never expressed how much it means to me that you care about magic and spells, and how they interact with people and with places, and how powerful it can be when you share that with someone else. ”
Amelia blinked in the slight glow of light emanating from the doorway beside them. “All of that means a lot to me too, Bryn. Thank you for sharing this with me.”