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Because what’s worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?
-James Patterson
Just as the winter weather began to turn and spring seemed just around the corner, Dimity received a letter in the mail.
To the Star of the Sky, Miss Dimity Drill -
You are invited to join Nathaniel and Narcissus Nightshade in joyful celebration for their upcoming 20th anniversary…
Dimity stared down at the elegant invitation and tried not to frown. Well, she thought, I’m much too busy this time of year - there’s really no way I could make it.
She considered writing back to say as much, but why bother? Not answering would be just as clear of an answer, after all. She tossed the invitation into the bin and went out to make sure the school brooms weren’t in too poor of a state after the first years’ flying lessons.
***
Two weeks later, another missive arrived; after breakfast while grabbing her spare whistle from her room after her usual one had gone missing, Dimity flipped the envelope open and pulled out the letter to read it quickly, hoping to make it out to the witchball field before the third years could get up to any mischief.
She stopped short when she realized it was once again from the Nightshades; her heart began to beat a little harder as she carefully read the words.
Dear Miss Drill,
I am writing on behalf of myself and my husband, to welcome you to join us for our wedding anniversary where we will be renewing our vows - and to also request your presence in our broomstick display at the ceremony. Not only would it be wonderful to have The Star of the Sky join us for such a huge and wonderful celebratory moment in our lives, I know it would also mean the world to my dearest Enid if her favourite teacher could be here. Please write back at your earliest convenience about your availability, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Most sincerely,
Narcissus Nightshade
Well, Dimity thought, folding the letter up and tucking it back into its envelope. Looks like I’ll have to write back for this one. One glance at the clock beside her bed reminded her that she had a class to teach, though, and she dropped the letter onto her desk before racing out of her room and down to the grass outside. Any response would have to wait until later, when she wasn’t busy working.
“Alright, girls,” she called out, looping her whistle around her neck. “Now, let’s start with some warm ups…”
***
Later, back in the privacy of her room, Dimity slumped over her desk and scratched out a quick reply, doing her best to keep it short but polite.
Dear Mrs Nightshade,
I appreciate you writing to me, and congratulations on 20 years of marriage. I’m afraid I will be much too busy to join you and Mr Nightshade for the celebration, and my flying has never been the same since my injury some years back so I’m not sure I’d be any good either way. Please pass on my sincerest regrets to your husband, and please give my best to Enid; I’ve heard marvelous things about her success from some of my sports colleagues over the years, and I couldn’t be prouder of her.
Thank you for reaching out, and truly, congratulations.
Sincerely,
Dimity Drill
***
Shortly before Easter break a staff meeting was called, Ada standing at the front of the room while she waited for the rest of the staff to assemble around the table with their cups of tea and plates of cake (or in Miss Hardbroom’s case, a notebook and quill for note taking). Slowly the staff settled in, and Dimity made sure to give the Headmistress her full attention (or at the very least, two thirds of her attention; the final third was focused on the delicious carrot cake on her plate).
When Ada announced the large donation to the sports department, Dimity was thrilled. When Ada revealed that it was from the Nightshades, in honour of Enid getting her start at Cackle’s, Dimity was less thrilled, but still quite pleased.
When Ada told them all that Narcissus would be visiting the school that day to finalize the donation process, Dimity wasn’t thrilled at all, nor pleased, nor even glad. In fact, just thinking about Narcissus Nightshade sent her heart somewhere down into her stomach, which was certainly not where hearts were supposed to be; it made her queasy, and she pushed her cake away with a frown.
“What’s wrong, Miss Drill? You don’t like the cake?”
Shaking her head, she got up from her chair. “It’s not that, Miss Cackle,” she said, “the cake’s wonderful, really. I just feel a bit poorly, is all.”
“Well why don’t you have a bit of a lie down, yes? I’m sure Mrs Nightshade will understand, and perhaps you’ll feel better before her visit is over.”
Dimity nodded and let herself be ushered out of the room, waiting until the door closed behind her before dropping her head and sighing.
If Narcissus Nightshade was going to be coming to the school, Dimity should do her best to make herself scarce; as much as she would love to hear more about Enid, she really didn’t think she could handle everything else that would come with it. Though her stomach still felt as though it were holding her heart captive, she didn’t head to her room to lie down as Miss Cackle had suggested - but rather escaped outside to the broomshed, where it was twice as unlikely that she would come into contact with Mrs Nightshade during her time in the castle.
Not that she was avoiding the witch, because of course she wasn’t. That would be absurd. She just knew that the shed was getting rather untidy, and there were some of the older brooms which could do with a good polish. That was all.
***
It happened while she was polishing one of the brooms (one that had managed to survive since the time Mildred Hubble had last attended the school - the only one still from the girl’s first year. Dimity was rather fond of it, if she was telling the truth; after all, it wasn’t just any old broom that could take on eleven-year-old Mildred Hubble and live to tell the tale). One minute she was thinking fondly about Mildred’s first flying lesson, and the next she was remembering the first time she’d seen her.
Not Mildred, but her. Mrs Nightshade.
Narcissus.
There was a great hullabaloo, and many of the students were shaking and shouting in excitement; not only were they getting a new student, but the Nightshades were going to be at Cackle’s! It was quite the most exciting thing to happen at the dreary old school since Selection Day, and only the first years and Esmeralda Hallow had been there for that.
The staff weren’t quite so thrilled with the celebrity appearance, of course, though Miss Cackle and Miss Bat could both be heard exclaiming with the students, little ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ as the couple and their daughter finally descended in a final shower of magical fireworks. Dimity exchanged amused looks with Miss Hardbroom over the students heads, before shooing the girls away, reminding them that classes would start very soon.
“Welcome, and well met!” Miss Cackle called out in greeting, and Dimity turned to take in the new student (Enid, if she was remembering Miss Cackle’s earlier words correctly) and then moved to the two adults behind her.
And that’s when it happened.
Oh, it wasn’t anything like in the stories, not really; there was no arrow piercing her heart, no elevated heart rate or heavenly choirs or explosive fireworks. But her palms were sweaty, and her neck felt hot, and she could feel herself blushing yet couldn’t seem to stop. It was only when Miss Hardbroom, hardly the most observant of her colleagues, elbowed her firmly in the side and hissed at her to “stop staring, for Magic’s sake!”, that she realized she wasn’t being as subtle as she thought she was, and that she needed to make herself scarce before she made an even bigger fool of-
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Dimity dropped the broom in her hands and whirled around.
“Sorry,” Narcissus said, taking a step into the broomshed and letting the door shut behind her, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, that’s alright,” Dimity murmured, bending to pick up the dropped broom and propping it up beside her. “I was just - lost in thought.” She cleared her throat and stared at the broom where it now leaned against the wall. “What can I do for you, Mrs Nightshade?”
Narcissus moved a step closer. “Please, call me Narcissus,” she said, her voice warm and bright.
It sent bats flying around Dimity’s stomach, and she tried not to let herself get distracted, forcing her focus onto the broom in front of her. That bit still needs polishing, she thought, and those bristles could do with some trimming… She cleared her throat and did her best to sound disinterested. “What can I do for you, Narcissus?”
Narcissus stepped closer still, shortening the distance between them to less than two meters - and Dimity could only take deep breaths and keep her eyes on the broom rather than on the woman she wished to be looking at. “I know you wrote that you wouldn’t be able to attend mine and Nathaniel’s anniversary celebration,” Narcissus said, “but I spoke to Miss Cackle about your schedule, and she said there is no reason why you shouldn’t be able to take a day or two off, should you want to.”
Dimity frowned, frustrated that Miss Cackle would have revealed something like that to Mrs Nightshade - not even a parent of a current student! - but sighed, ultimately realizing she couldn’t fault Miss Cackle for it too much; it was hardly something she could’ve known to keep secret, after all. After a minute of silence where Narcissus waited for Dimity to respond and Dimity tried to come up with something to say, she sighed again. “It’s generous of Miss Cackle to offer,” she said, picking her words carefully. “But I wouldn’t feel right taking time off on such short notice - not in the middle of the witchball season. And of course, my injury wouldn’t truly allow me to join you and your - husband - anyways.”
Suddenly Narcissus was right in front of her, close enough to see the way her lashes clumped together from the mascara she wore, close enough to notice the detail on her earrings. Close enough to see the smudged edges of her lipstick, the colour fading at the corners of her mouth. Dimity did her best not to hyperventilate at their sudden proximity.
“You know, I’m aware of your old injury, Miss Drill, and I do sympathize; it must be terribly difficult for someone as talented as you to have to limit yourself because of something as inconvenient as a sports injury.”
Dimity breathed in Narcissus perfume and tried not to swoon. “Thank you.”
“But you see, after you wrote to me all that time ago saying why you couldn’t join us - well, I had to tell Enid.”
Oh no. “Of course,” she said, wishing she were somewhere, anywhere else. “I’m sorry I had to disappoint her.”
“Well, that’s just it you see.” Narcissus narrowed her eyes and leaned forwards the slightest bit, prompting Dimity to lean back, though she was already standing pressed against the wall and didn’t have much room to retreat. “I told Enid about your injury, and she mentioned that a year ago you had had no problems at all in joining the Racing League Alumni in their celebratory broomstick display.”
Fuck. “Um,” Dimity said, heart racing, though whether it was from nerves or something else she couldn’t tell.
“And well, if that’s the case - and Miss Cackle is more than willing to give you the time off… then I really don’t see why you wouldn’t accept the invitation.”
Again there was a pause while Narcissus waited for Dimity to respond and Dimity tried to find something to say that wasn’t, I want to kiss you, or You’re so beautiful. “Yes, I see what you - it’s only that - well, I, um…” Dimity trailed off. She wished she could close her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see just how beautiful Narcissus was. She wished she could close her nose off, too, so that intoxicating perfume wouldn’t keep invading her senses, making her feel dizzy.
Narcissus stepped even closer (oh my god, oh my god, oh my god). “Yes? If you’re going to reject the offer my husband and I have made, Miss Drill, then the least you can give me is the truth.”
The truth? Dimity thought wildly, knees beginning to buckle, she wants the truth? Staring at Narcissus, at the anger in her eyes and the way her hair curled and framed her face - unable to keep herself from looking at her lips - Dimity did the only thing she could.
She kissed her.
It was not a nice kiss, as far as kisses go. It held no gentleness, no softness. It was not a kiss of beginnings, of the start of something new and exciting and wonderful; it was a kiss for anger, for desperation and regret. Anger at Narcissus, the situation, herself. Desperation, to finally have this chance, to not waste it, not squander it on something kind and weak. And regret, because she knew that as much as it was the first kiss, it was also the last.
And so Dimity kissed Narcissus as hungrily and as fully as she could. Her tongue was in the other woman's mouth, and her knees really did buckle then - she tasted like coffee and cake and whatever it was that angels tasted like. And best of all, Narcissus kissed her back, just as hungrily, just as angry and desperate and fierce.
And worst of all, Narcissus kissed her back, and her tongue was in Dimity’s mouth - until it suddenly wasn’t. Until the two of them were separated by space, yes, but also by a husband and child and a happy marriage twenty years long.
(It was not a kiss of beginnings. It was a kiss, and it was the end.)
Narcissus, eyes wide, pressed a hand to her mouth and stepped back. “Oh,” she said, “oh.”
Dimity trembled. “I cannot come to your - I’m sorry.”
Narcissus nodded, “Yes,” she said, then shook her head, “No, I mean -,” she dropped her hand and took another step back. “I have to go.”
Dimity felt desperate; Dimity felt hopeless. “I hope your celebration is everything you want it to be,” she said, and bit her tongue to stop the words she wanted to say from bursting out. Words like You’re so beautiful and Kiss me again and I love you, I love you, I love you.
“Yes, thank you.” Narcissus nodded again, like a bobblehead, or some sort of nodding creature, or like someone who is married and loves her husband and doesn’t know what to do with the fact that her child’s favourite teacher just kissed her. “Well. Goodbye.” And then she rushed out of the broomshed, and Dimity was left alone.
“Fuck,” she hissed, and kicked over the broom beside her in frustration.
***
Mr and Mrs Nightshade,
Happy anniversary! I wanted to apologize once again for being unable to join you on your special day, and to thank you for the generous donation you made to the school. Please accept the enclosed tickets to the International Sports League Summer Convention as a sign of my appreciation and as a gift for you and your daughter to enjoy together.
My most sincerest well wishes,
Dimity Drill