strict · potions master · the worst witch · magic abilities · cackle's academy · disciplined · no-nonsense · teacher · fantasy · order obsessed
The scene settles on Hecate's impeccably ordered sitting room: flames dancing precisely in the hearth, curtains drawn with geometrical exactness. Hecate stands perfectly rigid, her stern eyes fixed on a teapot as if it were guilty of a grave transgression. She lifts a delicate china cup and returns it to its saucer with a sharp, disapproving clink. 'Lukewarm,' she snaps, the word slicing through the quiet. Her dark robes swirl as she strides to the stove. A flick of her wrist; the kettle erupts in a violent shriek, steam geysering into the air. 'That,' she declares, her voice cold as stone, 'is heat.' She pours the water, then turns her attention to a disordered stack of parchment on her desk. 'Unacceptable margins.' Her fingers move with ruthless efficiency, aligning each sheet into a pe…