The Salem Witches Institute

Chapter Three: The Incredible Mrs. Crickett

Word spread quickly throughout the institute about Professor Lupin's successful first week in teaching. His class was wildly popular; the girls who were lucky enough to be in it had told all of their friends how great a teacher Remus was, so it became a daily occurrence to have younger girls' faces pressed against the glass of his classroom door, trying to sneak a peek at what was going on within, or to have clusters of students clamoring to have private lessons with the new teacher. Lupin wasn't sure if it his popularity was because he was a good teacher or simply because he was a man; either way, it was a nice change from the lifestyle of hiding and nervousness he had led before.

After that fateful first class, he hardly saw Ms. Belwithe, however, which, he finally admitted to himself, was rather disappointing. Only in the hallways between classes or within the cafeteria at lunch time could he glimpse her, and usually she was surrounded by students. It seemed she was also quite popular with the girls in the school; he surmised it was because the girls figured that, since she was so young, she could better relate to the everyday problems of being a female.

It was on the morning of Lupin's sixth day of teaching that he met, for the first time, Mrs. Crickett, his predecessor. He was sitting quietly at his desk in his office, scribbling down some hurried notes before his second lesson of the day, when there came a knock upon the door.

"Come in," he answered it vaguely, not even bothering to look up. He was used to these sorts of interruptions now; he figured it would be another of his students asking him for some help; Rachel Parker in particular came to see him at least three times a day and Kala Irish was always haunting his office doorway only minutes after he had dismissed her class.

He heard the door click open, and then the sound of a woman clearing her throat impatiently. He glanced up and was surprised to see a blonde-haired woman he didn't recognize.

"Ah, hello," he greeted slowly. "Can I help you?"

The woman's eyebrows raised. She was tall and curvaceous and her thick hair fell down past her shoulders; she was rather pretty, in an arrogant sort of way. "Enjoying my office?" she answered him in falsely sweet tones.

"Oh, uh . . ." Remus was speechless. He put down his quill. "I'm sorry . . . Do I know you?"

"You do now." She sat herself easily on the side of his desk, examining her painted-red nails idly, then extended one of her hands, palm downward, as if expecting him to kiss it. "I'm Mariah Crickett. Surely you've heard of me? I used to teach your class, but due to some . . . Unfortunate circumstances, I am no longer able."

Remus took her hand and shook it weakly; he couldn't help but notice the dark scowl that appeared on Mrs. Crickett's face when he didn't kiss it as she so obviously had wanted. "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Crickett. I'm Remus Lupin . . ."

"From Hogwarts, yes, I've heard," she cut him off rudely. "That's all well and good, but I didn't come here today for how-do-you-dos and pleasantries. I came here to ask you a question."

Remus could only blink and nod. He gulped dryly and said, "Yes?"

"Well . . . " she began, as if she had had this speech rehearsed for a long time, "do you ALWAYS teach such, ah, practical lessons? My girls aren't used to such treatment; we always go by the book and it has worked wonders with my past classes, so why change it up? We accept only the best at Salem Institute, and the class you've taken up is for the cream of the crop. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Remus folded his hands atop his desk and smiled thinly. Who did she think she was, anyways? Sure, this had once been her class, but he was teaching it now, and he wasn't about to let her tell him how to run it. "Are you suggesting that I change my methods?" he asked politely.

Mariah frowned. "No, not necessarily." She stood up. "I'm just asking you to keep that in mind, that's all."

"Indeed." He watched her walk towards to door, his mind in such a shock that he couldn't even think to say, "Good day and nice to meet you." Instead, he called after her, "I'm sorry to hear about your husband."

Mrs. Crickett stopped, her back towards him, in the doorway. She didn't turn around when she said, "Oh, yes . . . Yes . . . Very unfortunate . . ." and then disappeared with a flounce of her beautiful yellow locks.

***

Mrs. Crickett's sudden reappearance wasn't the only strange incident of the day. That very same night, down within the first level of the school where Aurora's classroom and office were kept, someone managed to sneak into her potions ingredients cabinet. Now, Aurora was very touchy about the state of her cabinet; she always knew exactly what was stored where and kept dozens of magical locks and barriers upon the door to keep curious students out of potentially dangerous chemicals and plants. But, seeing as how she was in the shower while the intruder was at work, Aurora had no idea of what had happened.

Unlucky, then, that, when Aurora re-entered her office, she didn't notice that her cabinet door was slightly ajar; she had had a long day of teaching and was exhausted, so instead of poking around late at night like she usually did, she headed straight for bed. Regrettable, too, that, if she HAD looked within her cabinet, she would have noticed right away that a very important component involved in making the Wolfsbane potion, the Wolfsbane plant itself, was missing entirely . . .