Chapter 1
Constance Hardbroom did not usually listen to the radio. To be more precise, she could not bear to have the contraptions in her presence. Human kind had survived thousands of years without such a noisy and often fuzzy means of long distance communication. What was wrong with writing someone a letter or reading about news in a newspaper? Constance harrumphed loudly at the infuriating noise but Imogen Drill, the owner of the radio, had learned to ignore her college's strops. There was nothing wrong with hearing a bit about the outside world every so often, especially when she was stuck with a school of witches in a medieval castle for nine months of the year.
Constance was less than impressed. She could almost remember the days when one could spend a peaceful, productive lunch hour in the staffroom and complete one's daily marking without that obscene racket coming from the corner. There really was no need for Amelia to allow such behaviour from a junior member of staff. Constance opened her mouth to tell Imogen precisely how she felt but was interrupted by the beginning of the lunchtime bulletin:
"Government forces responded to a mass riot in Swindon today. They were forced to use tear gas against the pro-homosexuality demonstrators who attacked police with stones and what appeared to be home-made grenades. Government reports so far state that three of the demonstrators were shot on the scene while forty-two arrests were made. Tests will be carried out promptly on those arrested to determine sexual orientation."
Miss Cackle shook her head looking weary. "I just don't know what's wrong with some people. All of those things are illegal for a reason. Why can't all those men just marry a nice woman and get on with their lives? It's the families I feel sorry for though. Imagine knowing you had a child like that." She shook her head in disbelief and helped herself to one of Miss Bat's pansy cakes from the table. Constance, realising her mouth was still open, closed it and continued to stare at the remaining unmarked essays. Her gaze had not moved since the beginning of the announcement. Another riot. That was the sixth this month if she wasn't mistaken, and she very rarely was. The pro-homosexuality groups were getting braver and more persistent than ever. Constance had lived through decades of mild resistance but had never dared to hope for something so extreme. She pressed her lips together so that they almost disappeared. It was difficult to predict where these new events would lead. She certainly was not naïve enough to think that a sudden eruption of protesters and demonstrations were enough to change any laws, especially a law as ingrained and fiercely defended as this.
"Is everything quite alright Constance?" Amelia's concerned gaze watched Constance over the top of her glasses. "You've been awfully quiet today."
Constance gave a start at the mention of her name. "And how am I expected to say anything and be heard over that infuriating machine?" she asked angrily, motioning towards Imogen's radio. She gathered her papers together and left the room for somewhere quieter to concentrate.
Imogen rolled her eyes as she watched the witch storm out of the door. There had been a time when that sort of behaviour would have annoyed or even upset her but over the years she had learned to shrug it off. It was just the way Constance Hardbroom was and no power on Earth could do anything to change that. On the radio the lunchtime broadcast had ended and was replaced by music but Imogen was far too deep in thought to notice. As she squeezed a wedge of lemon over her tea – another practice that usually annoyed Miss Hardbroom – she thought about the implications of today's riot. Things had been getting more and more fiery between pro-homosexuality groups and the government over the last few years as homosexuals and their supporters got braver. Did this mean that things would finally get better? After years of repression and secrecy could there finally be a change to the law? This could be what Imogen had been wishing for since her school years. She almost didn't dare to hope now that things were moving so fast. There were even whispers of a referendum if you knew where to listen but even Imogen Drill could not believe that the government would allow something so revolutionary as yet. It seemed now that they were doing all they could to steer the course of events in the exact opposite direction. Imogen sighed, trying to remind herself never to give up hope. One day attitudes would change. Until then she would just have to remain... careful.
"Oooh I love this song!" Davina squealed with delight as the music on the radio changed. In one movement she bounded from her chair into the middle of the room, sending the remaining cakes she had been icing straight into Amelia's cup of tea. The headmistress sighed softly as she tried in vain to salvage the cakes from her hot cup. Biscuits were always nice dipped in tea but cakes were never quite the same for it. Davina didn't seem to notice as she added singing to her dance act.
"Just leave with me now, say the word and we'll goooo, I'll be your teacher I'll show you the roooopes!"
Fortunately for Imogen and Amelia the bell sounding the end of lunch rang before Davina could finish singing along. Imogen laughed quietly to herself at the look of disappointment on her college's face as she left the staffroom for the main courtyard where she would be playing netball with the fourth years. They only had two weeks left to practice before the regional tournament and Imogen was using all the spare time she and the girls had for training. They were the best team the academy had ever seen – although truth be told there had only ever been one other team before them – and she had very high hopes for them. Elspeth Everoot made an excellent captain and had sailed her team through the qualifying stages. Her team talks and skill on the court were both extremely impressive and Imogen could see her going far in the sport. It was rare to see such talent in an academy so averse to sport and Imogen saw it as her private mission to give the girl the best chance at a sports scholarship. As she turned the corner her thoughts were interrupted by a very familiar voice, a voice that sounded decidedly unimpressed with something.
"Girls! As deplorable as your memory may frequently be, I do not believe for an instant that you all just happened to forget your extra-curricular potions class this afternoon." Miss Hardbroom towered over Imogen's netball team, formidable as ever in front of the nervous girls as though daring them to explain themselves. They shuffled awkwardly, each seeming to find something fascinating about their boots, until Griselda Blackwood summoned the courage to explain.
"We have netball training Miss. It's just that it's hard to find time when we're all free and we really need to practice and..." Her voice trailed off under Miss Hardbroom's unblinking stare.
"Netball, girls?" Constance's words dripped with distaste as she surveyed the team. "Your marks in potions this term have been atrocious and yet you wish to waste your time playing games? I'm speechless! Down to the potions lab with you all immediately. And don't try to argue Griselda Blackwood, of all people I would have thought better of you."
Imogen watched in fury as her netball team was herded down the corridor towards the potions lab. What right did that infuriating woman have to infringe on her already limited training time? She briefly considered telling the girls to stop what they were doing and follow her. After all, she had planned this training session a good week before and she would have so dearly loved to have taught Constance Hardbroom some manners. So what was stopping her? Although she could almost believe she was asking herself seriously, Imogen already knew the answer. No-one told Constance Hardbroom what to do, least of all a lowly junior member of staff whose subject's purpose at a school for witches was questionable at the best of times. Imogen seethed as she stalked back to her rooms. When she reached them she stayed only to find her music player and left again for a run in the woods. It was no secret that Imogen loved running, she was a P.E. teacher after all. Her morning runs gave her time to go over her lesson plans for the coming day, while in the evening it helped to clear her head no matter what had happened that day. There was no doubt in her mind that the anger she felt this afternoon would definitely be calmed, if not lost altogether, through a woodland run. With this thought fresh in her mind she sprinted through the corridors and out into sun.
Imogen Drill was not the only person in a foul mood that afternoon as two hours after she left the castle the bell rang signalling the end of classes. Elspeth Everoot stalked out of the potions lab without a glance at her team around her. She couldn't believe the nerve of the potions mistress! Fourth years were at the age where they began specialising in their subjects in the run up to exams meaning it was near impossible to find a training time that suited everyone. Regionals were only two weeks away and despite Miss Drill's optimism about the team, Elspeth knew they weren't ready. If they made use of every training opportunity then there was a chance they could put up a good fight but after what had happened today Elspeth was not sure they would be able to. Everyone knew Miss Hardbroom thought P.E. was a waste of time and seeing the girls spending so much of their time practicing must have been crossing a line for her. Hearing that strict voice instructing them to return again next week was too much for Elspeth and she resolved to do something about it. Speak to Miss Cackle perhaps? That might work, the headmistress was known as being much kinder and better at listening than Miss Hardbroom. She would take Griselda with her for support, and so it didn't look like she was just in a huff over the extra potions lessons. If Miss Cackle saw that it was the opinion of the whole team she might be more likely to understand. She scanned the corridor for her teammate and spotted her next to the wall whispering something to Fenella Feverfew. Fenella looked very excited about whatever she was being told, but there was a hint of something else too. Nervousness perhaps? Elspeth decided not to enquire. The pair were well known for their pranks and she didn't want to be part of something that could tarnish her reputation. No-one could have called Elspeth a teachers' pet, she was too fond of answering back to Miss Hardbroom for that, but her grades were perfect and her record was clean, and she planned to keep it that way. She would explain her plan to Griselda later, after the pair had finished whatever planning they were doing of their own. For now Elspeth would have to content herself with taking her frustrations out on a ball in the courtyard.
It was almost dark by the time Imogen returned from the woods and began to jog the short path back to the castle. Her mood had lifted considerably since she left as she had known it would. The forest around the castle was beautiful with a hundred and one distractions from everyday life. In the dark, however, it could also be deadly and it was this alone that drove Imogen back to the castle each night. Her run tonight had been more productive than most as she turned all her frustration into planning. These plans mostly involved game strategies for her fourth year team but she had also decided to speak to the Headmistress about Miss Hardbroom's actions. It would all be done in private of course, the potions mistress was far too intimidating to be present. She would just have raise that eyebrow of hers at Imogen's suggestions and the netball team would have no hope. No, private was best. Perhaps over a cup of tea and some biscuits. Imogen was sure Amelia would see her point of view that way. This thought lasted only long enough for her to take a few more steps until it was forgotten entirely. Imogen almost stopped in her tracks as she noticed someone walk silently away from her through the shadows.