dapper-little-monster:

It was about that time, early in the summer, when magic was best taught
to new witches, when daylight was long and herbs grew with just the
faintest of magic to guide them, and when the mornings were crisp and
full of dewy spiderwebs.

It had been at least a decade since Nonna had seen anyone at her door– she had bribed a few crows to tell her if anyone was on their way, and for the price of a few mirror shards each, they did their job very well.

“A little human,” one crow, Mortimer, said as he landed on Nonna’s porch railing, “is very determined to find you today. She’s been wandering through the trees for an hour, but seems to have found the pathway now. She’s about ten minutes away.”

“Five, from the looks of it.” Chimed in another crow from the cabin’s rooftop.

“Why, thank you. I’ve got a lot of breadcrumbs in a dish, I’ll set it out when the little human is gone.” Said Nonna with a wink, shifting in her seat to watch the silhouette of a child come into focus.

Flushed pink cheeks, mud-covered boots, auburn hair with a few cobwebs dangling around the edges, and oh, magic was eager to bind to her with every step.

As the child approached the front steps, she stopped, looking up at Nonna.
“Hi, I’m Rook.” She said, then produced a few sprigs of rosemary, a small river rock, and a piece of paper.
“I’m here to Become A Witch. I’ve studied all the books. I’ll do exactly what you say, and I’ll pay attention all the time and I brought a letter from my mom saying it’s O.K. to study with you as long as I’m home by 8:00 on weekdays and 9:30 on weekends.” Rook a breath, but held it, waiting for The Witch to reply.

“First of all,” said Nonna, “you’re going to need a proper hat.”