Broom with a View Read Online Free

Wells like it was yesterday.”
    Of course, Aunt Vera must once have been young and carefree. But it was hard for Violet to imagine that such a stuffy, timid Witch had ever cast enchantments on the local Mortal boys or danced with fairies in the moonlight or any of the things young Witches were told not to do and always did anyway. But Hippolyta Hopkins was clearly the sort of witch that was capable of almost anything. Violet wasn’t sure she felt entirely comfortable around her.
    Vera and Hippolyta were obviously enchanted to be in each other’s company again. All worry of Vampires and basement rooms were temporarily forgotten, and it looked to Violet like she might as well leave the old friends to catch up on the last two hundred years. The Misses Fate each took a turn to regard the girl through their single pair of magical opera glasses. The attention felt somehow unnerving, so she turned away and peered around for a quiet chair to keep to herself. But the room had quickly filled to capacity. She found her way to the adjoining library, where a lonely oil lamp illuminated the dusty, neglected shelves. A brief perusal told her that any books worth reading must have found their way into the luggage of guests past, so she settled herself into a chair to simply rest and recover from a very vexing day.
    Violet looked around . The library suddenly grew darker. The shadows shifted. A dim red light rose up from a source she couldn’t identify, and the disheveled bookshelves seemed to lean over her, creaking as though a great fist had taken hold of the room and begun to squeeze. She felt the first tremors of panic begin to flood her body as the shadows leapt from their corners and gathered in the center of the room, forming a terrible black figure that reach out to her as she sat paralyzed in her chair. She cowered back, reaching for her wand.
    But the shadowy arm quickly coalesced into a black-gloved hand, offering itself to be shaken. The red light retreated, and the unearthly darkness about the figure fled, to be replaced with a short, round man wearing a rather mischievous grin. The face was familiar.
    “Mr. Beelzebub!” Violet exclaimed with relief, too surprised to return the proffered handshake.   
    “I’m terribly sorry if I discomfited you, Miss Popplewell,” said the little man . “But this room is almost always empty this time of day, so the little trick of my arrival rarely causes any alarm.”
    Gathering her composure, she shook hands properly, laughing off her fleeting terror. What else could the disturbance have been but a flamboyant Sorcerer? And few Sorcerers were as flamboyant as Mr. Beelzebub. He had recently been elected High Sorcerer of Surrey, charged with looking after the magical well-being of the countryside Witches. Unlike the previous incumbent, who had always seemed so grave and forbidding, even for a Sorcerer, Mr . Beelzebub struck Violet as an exceptionally easygoing fellow and not much like his predecessor at all. He didn’t even laugh like most Sorcerers—with their dry, spar cackle. He had a rich, plummy laugh, like a man who thoroughly enjoyed the simple pleasures of life. When Mrs. Popplewell had him over for dinner the previous summer, he employed it quite readily. Violet knew his arrival must be the start of something good.
    Mr. Beelzebub hadn’t expected to be addressed so immediately after transporting to the Pensione Belladonna. He usually preferred a minute or two alone to compose himself and smoke his pipe. But he found Miss Popplewell a delightful creature. And it was always pleasant, when going on a journey, to meet at least one familiar face upon arrival at your destination. Besides, she appeared genuinely pleased to see him. So forgoing his pipe, he followed her dutifully through to the parlour.
    “Do you remember me, Mr. Beelzebub?” Vera put herself forwards, if with a bit more trepidation than her niece, bobbing her head to the side like an inquisitive bird. “From