Chapter 1 When the shriek of the alarm clock blasted into her senses, Sabrina bolted upright in bed. She gazed out her bedroom window and blinked, thinking that it was way too dark for her wake up. Even the crickets were still asleep. Then why was her alarm clock ringing? She pointed her finger and zapped the screaming machine into silence.
As she lowered her head back down to her pillow, Sabrina remembered why she was awake so early -- she hadn't done all of her homework! She bolted upright again, this time prying open her eyelids. Darkness or no darkness, she had to wake up and finish that report for geography. It was about tectonic plates, which slipped her mind a lot more easily than they slipped around the earth.
"School has only been in session for a week," she groused as she stumbled out of bed and grabbed her robe. "That's too soon to have homework. On a Monday, too."
She looked around for Salem and found it odd that he wasn't underfoot as usual. Oh, well, the cat would appear as soon as she reached the kitchen. He always showed up whenever anyone was in the kitchen.
Sabrina clomped wearily down the stairs and turned on the hall light. A pleasant smell wafted from the kitchen. It wasn't the usual somebody-forgot -to-do-the-dishes or to-clean-the-litter-box smell; this scent was clean and aromatic.
When she reached the kitchen and turned on the lights, Sabrina had to shield her eyes from the bright glare. The sink, the refrigerator -- everything was sparkling! With her eyes half shut she stumbled around, looking for her books. Then she remembered she had left them on the counter.
She felt around, found a sheaf of papers, and squinted at them. "Oh, that's nice. It's my report -- all done and neatly printed out." With a big smile, Sabrina laid the papers down on the counter and turned to go back to bed.
"I must have woken up in the middle of the night and done this stuff," she told herself.
Yeah, right, muttered her inner voice.
Sabrina yawned. "Okay, who am I going to believe? The voice that's talking out loud or the one that's only talking in my head?" She paused to make a decision, then made one. "Homework is done -- somehow -- so it's time to go back to bed."
But there was that troubling sweet aroma, and the chrome in their kitchen was gleaming as it never had before.
Reluctantly, Sabrina opened her eyes and took a good look around the kitchen. The first thing she saw a vase of fresh flowers. Then she screamed, "Aunt Hilda! Aunt Zelda!"
With a flurry of silk and feather boas, her two eccentric aunts came swooping down the stairs. Their hair was frightful, and so was Aunt Hilda's green beauty mask.
"We've been robbed!" shouted Sabrina.
Aunt Zelda rushed over to her laptop computer, which sat in its usual spot on the kitchen table. Aunt Hilda ran to inspect the silverware, which was all clean and neatly stacked, not in its usual mixed-up jumble in the drawer.
"What's been stolen?" asked Zelda.
"The mess!" Sabrina shook her head, realizing how silly that sounded. "We weren't robbed, exactly, but we have had intruders. Somebody came in and left these flowers. He also cleaned the kitchen and did my homework."
Zelda grinned with delight as she studied the screen of her laptop computer. "He also balanced my checkbook and did this month's household budget! Hilda, you're still spending too much for hair dye."
But Aunt Hilda wasn't paying any attention. She walked around the kitchen peering into corners and behind furniture. She waved a shiny fork in the air.
"This silver hasn't been polished this well in centuries. I think we have a hobby."
Sabrina shook her head. "Thanks, but I don't want to polish silverware for a hobby."
"Not that kind of hobby," said Zelda with concern. "A hobgoblin."
"What's that?" asked Sabrina, certain it was bad.
"A hobgoblin is a household spirit who protects the home and does useful chores in the middle of the night," explained Zelda. "He just picks a witch's house and moves in."
Sabrina tossed her blond hair. "You mean this hobgoblin is going to come in every night and clean the house, do my homework, wash the dishes, and do whatever else has to be done? You go, Hobgoblin!"
"Oh, it sounds great," Hilda said with a frown. "As long as you're grateful and don't make him mad. If a hobgoblin gets mad at you, he can cause a lot of damage. No witch can match one for pure magical fury. Although hobgoblins are usually invisible, they can appear to be anyone they want."
"If you thank them enough, sometimes they'll go away," said Zelda helpfully.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" cooed Hilda.
"No, wait!" said Sabrina, cupping her aunt's mouth. "Let's have a little patience, Aunt Hilda. I mean, what has this poor hobgoblin done to be banned from our house so soon? Besides, how do we know it was a hobgoblin? We have some very strange relatives who might have come in here and left us these flowers."
"She has a point," said Aunt Zelda. "Besides, trying to get rid of the hobgoblin so quickly might tick him off. And he's a great accountant."
"I can see my reflection in this silverware," muttered Hilda glumly. "I warn you -- a hobgoblin can make witches lazy. Some of them can even forget how to cast spells, let alone unplug the garbage disposal."
"And you have to feed a hobby," added Aunt Zelda. "But they'll eat almost anything."
"Sounds like Salem. Where is that mangy cat, anyway?" Sabrina looked around, then covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes widening in horror. "You don't suppose...Could the hobgoblin have turned Salem back into a warlock?"
"No, they like to do mundane things, like washing pots and pans," answered Hilda. "Cats have instincts that we don't have, and Salem might have spotted him first. He's probably hiding under a bed somewhere."
Hilda snapped her fingers and -? poof! -- a black cat appeared on the kitchen counter. Salem looked plumper than usual, with his sleek fur all shampooed and blow-dried and two cute little yellow ribbons tied behind his ears. He smelled as if a whole bottle of perfume had been dumped on him, and he had never looked more embarrassed in his life.
"I'm so mortified!" he wailed. "I tried to jump out the window and end it all, but I kept landing on my feet!"
Despite her best intentions, Sabrina laughed out loud, and so did her aunts.
"Salem, what happened to you?" she asked.
"A ferocious ghost grabbed me, threw me in the bathtub, shampooed me, and gave me a blow-dry. He completely violated my privacy, and I demand to sue that ghost!"
"It wasn't a ghost," said Hilda. "It was a hobgoblin. At least that's what we think."
"Then I'll sue that hobgoblin," declared Salem. "What's his address?"
"He lives here," answered Sabrina. "And he was only doing chores that needed doing. In your case, double."
Salem scowled darkly. "Do you recall those immortal words, 'No good deed goes unpunished'?"
"If he shows up again, that means he's decided to stay," said Hilda. "We'll know for sure tomorrow morning."
Sabrina clapped her hands together. "As long as we're up and the kitchen is totally clean, let's make it a mess again! Anyone for French toast?"
"What about your homework, which you now have to do on your own?" said Aunt Zelda.
The teenager frowned. "Right, like you're going to redo your checking account and the budget?"
"Well, I'm going to double-check them," said Zelda, quickly sitting at her computer.
"Then I'll double-check my homework," countered Sabrina. "Aunt Hilda, will you please make the French toast?"
"Wait!" roared Salem. "Before you do anything else, will somebody please remove these bows from my ears?" He sobbed pathetically.
Sabrina whistled cheerfully as she strolled along the sidewalk toward school. Summer finally seemed to be over, and for the first time she noticed the dry, crackling chill of autumn. The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted from an open window, while pine logs burned aromatically in a nearby fireplace.
A cool breeze rustled through the trees, making the yellow leaves shimmer like golden medallions. By next week, Sabrina, knew, those leaves would be flaming red and collecting in piles on the ground.
With delight, Sabrina realized that she would be early to school for the first time since...since she couldn't remember. But that didn't matter -- she was early! Despite her aunts' gloomy mutterings, she could get used to having a hobgoblin around to make life easier.
Hardly seeing a soul, Sabrina walked up the old gray steps and entered Westbridge High School. What did people do at a high school before classes started? Curious to find out, Sabrina snooped around the halls.
Hmmm, there was Mr. Kraft, the vice-principal. He was very efficiently tearing down all the signs for student dances, the Drama Club, the Computer Club, the marching band, the chorus, and every other extracurricular activity.
She walked up behind him and asked cheerfully, "What are you doing?"
Mr. Kraft jumped about six feet, then whirled around. "Sabrina Spellman?" he asked in amazement. He cleaned his glasses and checked his watch. "It's really you -- at school half an hour early! Did you forget to set your clock back when daylight saving time ended?"
"No, I'm just early. What are you doing?"
"Removing all the signs for extracurricular activities," he answered, grabbing the one for the Chess Club.
"I can see that, but why?"
"Because we're not going to have all that stuff anymore," the vice-principal answered with a satisfied smile. "It's a new school year, and you know what that means."
"More sawdust in the meat loaf?"
"Besides that, a new school year always means less money from the school board. We would hit up the PTA, but they're still paying off expenses from last year. We've got so little money that we need to choose between having textbooks and teachers, or a school dance."
"I vote for the school dance," said Sabrina, thinking he was joking.
Kraft smiled. "Luckily, Miss Spellman, I set the priorities around here, not you." He walked over to the bulletin board and yanked down the sign-up sheet for the Camera Club.
"You're serious!" exclaimed Sabrina in shock. "But school can't be just about...school!"
"Sorry." He yanked down the sign-up sheet for the Pep Club.
"Not the Pep Club!" she wailed. "What will our school do without pep? We've always had pep."
"I think we can do with a little less pep." Kraft's hand hesitated at the sign-up sheet for cheerleading, and Sabrina knew he was messing with one of the sacred clubs. Sure, he had the guts to yank the Pep Club, but did he have the guts to shut down the cheerleaders?
"Oh, what the heck." With a trembling hand, Mr. Kraft tore down the sheet for the cheerleaders.
"Now you've done it," Sabrina warned darkly.
"I've seen this year's budget, and you haven't. There's no money. We'll keep the football team...for now." He turned and marched down the hall.
Sabrina ran to keep up. "Hey, can't we do something to raise funds? What do you call those things?"
"Fund-raisers." Kraft stopped and laughed out loud. "The students are already selling flowers, candy, cookies, popcorn, books, magazines, and lightbulbs. The parents are tapped out -? they haven't got a dime left. If you can come up with a brand-new fund-raiser we haven't tried, I'll listen. Until then, why don't you stir up some pep?"
Still chuckling and shaking his head, Mr. Kraft walked away. Desperate, Sabrina looked around the hallway and saw that students were starting to trickle in. Like most teens, they didn't see anything but each other, and they walked right past the empty bulletin boards.
She saw her friend Valerie heading to her locker, and she charged after her. "Val, the Science Club, the school newspaper, the Pep Club -- they're all gone!"
Valerie gaped at her. "What are you talking about?"
"And you're a cheerleader, too," said Sabrina, flapping her arms. "Even the pom-poms got the axe." She quickly told her friend about what she had caught Mr. Kraft doing and why.
Valerie was aghast. "He can't do that. We'll...we'll -- "
"What will we do?" asked Sabrina eagerly.
"We'll sell more cookies!"
Sabrina shook her head, knowing that Valerie was not exactly a mover and shaker of high school life. But the person who fit that description had just rounded the corner, followed by a squad of chattering girls.
"Libby!" cried Sabrina, rushing over to her dark-haired nemesis. "You're looking very, uh...peppy this morning."
"It's Monday morning," grumbled Libby. "That's too early in the week for you to give me grief. Come back on Wednesday."
"But there's a real problem. Did you notice that there's no sign-up sheet for cheerleading?"
"You're not going to try out for cheerleader again, are you?" asked Libby with mock horror. "I don't think the school could survive such embarrassment again."
"Look around, Libby. There is no cheerleading squad! Mr. Kraft canceled it, along with every other extracurricular activity." In a rush, she told Libby what had happened, while several other students gathered around to hear the tale of woe.
"He can't do that!" declared Libby. "The Pep Club, okay, that's only plain-looking girls. But the cheerleading squad has all the pretty girls!"
"I knew this would offend your sense of fairness," said Sabrina.
"I'm going to go set him straight," vowed Libby, marching off toward the vice-principal's office. "He can't mess with the cheerleaders."
Valerie sidled up to Sabrina and said, "That's like fighting fire with gasoline."
"Libby and Mr. Kraft have been tight before," replied Sabrina. "If anyone can get him to change his mind, it will be Libby."
Mrs. Quick suddenly crossed in front of them, bustling to someplace or another, her squinched-up face buried in test papers. Sabrina rushed after her.
"Mrs. Quick!" she called, skidding to a stop behind the gangly teacher. "Have you heard what happened to the Drama Club?"
"I thought it was right where I left it."
"No, Mr. Kraft canceled it, along with every other extracurricular activity. He says there's no money."
"Well, of course there's no money," sniffed Mrs. Quick. "But that's never stopped us before. If we can't do this season's play, Picnic, I'll be very mad."
"Didn't we do Picnic two years ago?" asked Sabrina with a frown.
Mrs. Quick stared off into the distance, smiling wistfully. "Yes, but it's such a nice play. It has so many pretty summer dresses, a small-town atmosphere...and a nice young man with his shirt off."
"Well, Mr. Kraft has canceled the picnic this year." Once again, Sabrina explained what had happened, and Mrs. Quick crossed her arms and scowled in anger.
"I'll reason with him." Looking determined, the teacher bustled off toward Mr. Kraft's office.
"That should fix it," Valerie assured Sabrina.
"Good job."
A minute later terrible feedback squealed over the public-address system, and Mr. Kraft cleared his throat. "Attention, all students and faculty. It doesn't matter who you send down to my office, all extracurricular clubs have been canceled due to lack of funds."
"Aw!" said most of the students in the hallway.
Some bickering sounded over the speaker, and Mr. Kraft grumbled. "All right. Mrs. Quick has suggested a compromise. We'll all meet after school in the lunchroom to discuss new fund-raising possibilities. But I don't hold much hope. School has only been in session for a week, and the parents refuse to buy anything else that their kids are selling."
"The parents are always broke," muttered Valerie. "We need to hit up the people who have the money -- the kids."
Sabrina nodded thoughtfully. "That's a great idea! We have to find something that will appeal to teenagers and people going out on a date. But what?"
As the hallways erupted with a roar of conversation, Sabrina heard the familiar voice of Harvey Kinkle, shouting over the din. "Hey, Sabrina! What are you doing for Halloween?"
Halloween? The teenage witch waved to her boyfriend, and Harvey fought his way through the crowd to reach her side. When he got there, she gave him a brazen kiss, and he blinked at her with surprise. "Why'd you do that?"
"Because you gave me a dynamite idea how to save the school year." Sabrina grinned and rubbed her hands together.
Copyright © 1999 by Viacom Productions, Inc.