(A/N)- I'll update my other fic I just need to get this one out, nearly done with it, just need to finish a couple more chapters. Hope you enjoy! Next chapter should be up within the next couple of days.

-Chapter 1 - Alarms and Diversions-

"Why can't we just get an ordinary fire alarm?" Imogen asked as she stared up at the space-consuming eyesore which hung from the ceiling of the assembly hall. Frank Blossom had meant well, but surely there was an easier way to go about this …

"We can't get an ordinary fire alarm, Miss Drill, because this is not an ordinary school," Constance replied simply, walking past the non-witch to head back into the staffroom.

"What about magick then?" Imogen asked, following her out, "Surely there must be some sort of alarm spell you can cast?"

"Yes, but in order to do that we would need to cast the same spell in every room," Constance sighed, "It would be in the air, so any magick cast within the vicinity could risk a Foster's effect. It would be much like a sound-proofing spell."

"Sound-proofing spell?" Imogen asked, raising a brow, intrigued, "I could use one of those."

Constance blushed but said nothing as she stopped to open the door to the staffroom.

Imogen sat in the hospital wing, feeling foolish as she held an ice pack to her head.

"And then she just flung herself into the tornado, can you believe -?"

She blushed as she overheard the girls' telling their witness story to Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom, and pulled the ice pack down further over her eyes to hide from the shame.

The familiar jingle of keys met her ears and got closer as did the tapping of those heels on the stone floor of the castle.

"So you thought you would stop the storm with your body then, did you?" Miss Hardbroom's stern voice met her ears, and she peeked out from under the ice pack to see her kneeling before her, brown eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Did you come here to make fun of me?" Imogen asked irritably with a wince.

Constance just reached up, porcelain fingers grazing over tan hands as she moved the cloth pack from her forehead, placing it on a nearby chair. She reached up again, fingers delicately dancing over the bruise above her eyebrow. It had begun to turn an ugly shade of purple and yellow, and Imogen involuntarily flinched at the touch, for it was still very sore.

The witch pressed her palm to it, causing the non-witch to suck air in through her teeth at the pain, but it was short-lived. Magick coursed through her veins, healing the injury and removing any pain she once felt. The aching in her skull had ceased, and the removal of such agonizing pain in a small amount of time made the blonde feel dizzy and drowsy.

Constance removed her hand and got to her feet, with an accomplished look in her eyes, the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

"Better?" she asked.

Imogen could only stare back at her, the smell of the other woman's perfume still lingering on her skin as well as the feel of that soft pale flesh … she could feel her ears burning as she willed herself to look away, but she couldn't. Constance's smile faded softly, and Imogen's heart raced, worrying that the witch might be able to read the scandalous thoughts that were now running through her mind … like how those hands might feel elsewhere …

"Ah, I see you've fixed her up then!" Miss Cackle exclaimed happily, and Imogen managed to tear her eyes away from the ebony beauty with an awkward smile.

"Very brave of you, Miss Drill, but next time I suggest you wait for Miss Hardbroom to handle the situation."

"Or Mildred Hubble," she reminded with a smile. Constance shifted uncomfortably.

"Indeed," Amelia agreed, smiling warmly as she patted her deputy's arm lightly, "Come along Constance; the girls are waiting for us in the great hall."

Amelia headed off, and Constance made to follow, but Imogen stopped her, reaching to touch her hand but the witch froze before her fingers could make contact, looking expectantly at her.

"Why weren't you there?" Imogen asked quietly, "You're always there when there's trouble …"

Constance scowled, "That's my business. You should take care to mind your own," she replied snippily, and walked off without another word.

Imogen sighed deeply, snatching up her ice pack and following her colleagues out into the great hall.

(A/N)- Please review! Next one up soon!