Witchcraft Teacher Novels & Stories

I stand from the bench and stride towards the entrance hall. I don't know anything about the contest,but one thing I know for sure is Alex is going to stay in the Academy! ******* "Welcome, students. I'm Professor Sheila, your Special Arts Class teacher." A warm smile shapes up her thin red lips. The hall fills up with a chorus of whispers. Everybody has the same question as I do. What does a witch do in a werewolf class? As if sensing the question, Professor Sheila's smile widens and she steps down the high level platform and walks towards us.

I asked her as tears of joy began to drop down freely from my cheeks. "I will help you", she repeated the word and my joy knew no bounds. "Sarah has a rare kind of witch power, a mixture of the white witch and a very dark part which is capable of consuming a whole pack if not handled with care. You can't keep up with trying to learn to control your powers, you have to do it for real", she said to Sarah. "You can seat", she said to both of us using her both hands to demonstrate. "Thank you so my Cynthia", we chorused and she nodded with a smile. She cleared her throat and coughed for a bit before speaking further.

“That’s never been performed and even if it has been, it’s forbidden.” Getting up, she wandered off towards the section where books lay, stacked high up on shelves against the wall. She reached up and pulled one out, coming back and dropping it in front of me. “Read,” She said, taking her seat. “But first, take notes.” Confused, I stared at her, wondering if I had heard her correctly. “Take notes? “Yes,” “About what?” “Witchcraft is more complicated than stories and ancient history. Let’s move on. If you’re truly curious like you seem to be, then, the least you can do is make notes. That way, you can keep track of what you know and don’t know.

His patience knew no bounds, and his passion for teaching was as boundless as the endless horizons of the arcane world. We practiced tirelessly, honing our skills in the art of spellcasting. Seraphine guided me through complex rituals, teaching me the delicate balance between intention and incantation. He introduced me to the subtle nuances of elemental manipulation, guiding my hands as I learned to summon fire and water with a mere flick of my fingers. His understanding of magical theory was profound, and he explained the intricacies of magical runes and sigils with a clarity that made the ancient texts come alive.

“I have a favor to ask.” Zach says across from me. I look up at the Ms Swan our English teacher. She doesn’t like talkers in class. She has her back to us but everyone knows she has supernatural hearing. She can tell you who’s talking without even seeing them. It’s like a mutant power, don’t understand what’s so important that Zach can’t wait until lunch. I give him a look to let him know I don’t want to talk right now. He raises his brows at me in question and then he gives me a shoulder shrug. What’s wrong with this dude? Did he forget where we are? Miss Swan doesn’t play.

Sapping walks in. “Yes, well, I wouldn’t miss our new wonderful teacher teaching the oath and care of magical creatures.”, he says happily. She just shakes her head before speaking again, “Then we have Mr. Sapping teaching potions and our last teacher is Miss Phoenix teaching oath and care of magical creatures.” “She’s a student here!” “I’m not being taught by a human!” “Yeah!” The cafeteria gets louder where a few students and Jess are covering their ears. Holding back my anger as they continue to yell.

That’s the goal. The teacher, a tall woman with silver-streaked hair and sharp glasses, turns toward the class. “Good morning everyone. I’m Professor Hawkes, and welcome to Advanced Supernatural History.” She writes something on the board. Wolves & Witches: The Origins of the Divide My eyes lift slightly. Wolves and witches? That’s… interesting. Professor Hawkes begins pacing slowly in front of the class. “As many of you know, the relationship between wolf packs and witch covens has been… complicated throughout history.”

How was that even possible? “Yep,” she said casually. “There’s even a white witch school with a two-year program back home. They learn tarot card reading, astrology, aromatherapy—self-healing, you name it.” She chuckled while I gawked. I hadn’t seen her smile like that in ages. But a public witch school? With a curriculum? My instincts told me there was more to this... I put a mental note to find out about it from other supernatural creatures. “I always figured foreigners would think we’re crazy,” she chuckled, rubbing her forehead. Then she pointed at me accusingly.

"But he was not just a source of love and companionship. He was also my guide in the world of magic, my teacher and confidant." She took a deep breath, her voice laced with reverence. "In our tumultuous journey as witches, Ralph taught me delicate and powerful spells that had been passed down through generations," Freda continued. "He was patient and understanding, guiding me with a steady hand as I navigated the complexities of the craft. Together, we unraveled the secrets of the arcane, unlocking hidden knowledge and weaving spells that could shape the very fabric of our world."

“I hadn’t mentioned that yet. So why did you think so?” “I-” I started before pausing. “I just remembered something.” “Go on,” James said, his tone encouraging but firm. I let out a deep breath before straightening up. “My mentor, Grandpa Mike, once told me about a witch he encountered,” I said, my voice steadier now. “He didn’t go into details, but he mentioned certain rituals. Darker ones.” No one interrupted, but I paused, hesitating again. Then I clenched my fists before biting the words out.