(A/N)- I should be updating my Magic in the Mirror fic, but I've gotten into a Worst Witch craze, and it had to be done. I'm going to try and continue/finish this whole story. Don't hate on Charlotte, please. I know she's an OC, but ... don't worry, I won't make her angsty annoying, promise. Just give me a chance. And if you like it, review, because reviews fuel me. :) Also, this thing is unbeta'd, so please don't get made if there's mistakes ...
NOTE: Constance may seem a little OOC but I doubt she'd be completely heartless towards her own child. I tried to make it believable. I hope I achieved it.
Chapter 1 : The Calm
If asked, Charlotte would barely remember her very first visit to Cackle's. It was as if it were a far-off dream. Constance, on the other hand, had a very good memory, and she could remember that day as if it were only yesterday.
Charlotte was three at the time. She could talk, in broken sentences, but she barely did, especially when she was around strangers. Her pale blonde hair had been kept at chin length so it was much more manageable: Constance hated to hear her daughter cry whenever she tried to brush out a knot for her, so at least this way it lessened the amount of knots as well as tears.
"Who's this little cutie?" Davina exclaimed, leaning down to the toddler with her hands on her knees. Charlotte smiled shyly, ducking behind Constance as she sat at the desk in the staff room, grading the fourth year students' exams.
"She's mine, back off," Constance muttered, suppressing a grin. As much as having her daughter at Cackle's for the day was stressing her out to no end, she couldn't mask the pride she felt when she was able to say that Charlotte was hers.
"What's your name, dearie?" Davina cooed as Charlotte peeked out from behind her mother's arm.
"What's your name?" Constance asked her daughter quietly, taking a moment from her grading to coax the girl to tell Miss Bat herself. Charlotte grumbled softly and hid her face against Constance's stomach. Constance took her gently by the shoulders, and looked her into her dark brown eyes, "Come on now, tell Auntie Davina your name," she said softly as she brushed her bangs away from her eyes.
"Mm Charlotte," she mumbled, wringing her hands, smiling at Davina.
"What a beautiful name, Charlotte!" Davina gasped. Constance rolled her eyes, suppressing a grin as she turned back to her papers.
Amelia came in the door at that moment, opening it up carefully as she expected Charlotte to still be behind it with her mother, and she was.
"Frightening little girls again, Davina?" Amelia asked as she crossed over to the table.
"She's not frightened!" Davina protested, as Charlotte made a motion in the air with her hands to be picked up, and Davina obliged, "See?" she said, hoisting her up on her hip.
"Drop her and I'll lock you in the cupboard for all eternity." Constance threatened, not looking up from her papers.
"I dare say she'd like that idea, Constance." Amelia chuckled, sipping her tea.
Constance looked around at the clock realizing the time, "Damn," she muttered under her breath, and quickly took up her papers, tapping them against the desk.
"Damn," Charlotte said, loud and clear. Davina laughed.
"That's a bad word, Charlotte," Constance warned, getting to her feet and pointing a finger at her, "Mind your tongue."
Charlotte nodded eagerly.
"And you, Davina," she rounded on her, pointing a finger in her colleague's face, "Don't encourage it."
"Don't curge it." Charlotte repeated.
"That's my girl," Constance said, looking proudly at her before grabbing up her handbag.
"Amelia, could you watch over her while I'm in class?"
"No can do, Constance," Amelia said, "I'm afraid I have an appointment with some of my students." That was a lie, and Constance saw right through it.
"Which students?" Constance asked, trying her.
Amelia simply raised a brow, and said nothing.
"Oh, come on, Amelia!" Constance protested, feeling much like a little girl whining to get her way, "It's only an hour!"
"I can watch her!" Davina announced happily, bouncing the girl on her hip, making her laugh.
"Over my dead body, you will," Constance grumbled. She didn't mind Davina, she just knew that the old witch could be so absentminded that she'd most definitely let Charlotte go astray, "She'll be hanging from the rafters." Constance argued, and carefully took her daughter from the Chanting teacher's arms.
"She will not!" Davina protested, "She'll have loads of fun! And the girls could help me to watch her!"
Constance ignored her, keeping a good grip on Charlotte's waist with one hand as she took up her papers with the other.
"You can't expect to keep her in your Potions class with you-" Davina started.
"What choice have I got?" Constance exclaimed with a frustrated sigh, and turned to her headmistress, "I don't see why you can't compromise, Amelia- she's only going to be here today, and tomorrow she's going back home."
"Why don't you ask Imogen?" Amelia asked.
Constance's eyes widened dangerously. "Miss Drill?" she spat. Miss Drill had only just arrived at the school a month ago, and Constance hated her. It wasn't because she wasn't a witch, it was because Constance couldn't see why the girls should waste their valuable class time learning about exercise when they could be spending that time learning magic. This was, after all, a witch school.
Next thing she knew, Imogen Drill had come into the staff room, "Did you call me, Miss Hardbroom?" she asked, and Constance whipped around, looking dangerously at the woman. Imogen ignored the glare, and instead greeted Charlotte.
"Hello there, little one," she said with a grin, and Charlotte smile, hiding her face behind her mother's shoulder.
"She yours?" Imogen asked, shutting the door behind her and taking a sip of her water bottle.
"Yes, she's mine!" Constance said irritably, feeling suddenly territorial. There was no way she was going to allow this woman to watch over her daughter. But at the same time, she couldn't cancel her classes for the day. The third years had their exams to take, and she was already running late for that.
"Imogen, Constance was wondering if you could watch Charlotte for her while she teaches her last class for the day."
Constance was going to kill Amelia.
"I'd love to," Imogen said brightly, grinning up at the potions mistress. Constance narrowed her eyes at the PE teacher, hugging her daughter closer to her chest.
"If I find the slightest scratch on her-"
"She'll be fine, Miss Hardbroom," Imogen insisted, "I've baby-sat for my brother's kids before. You don't have to worry about a thing."
Constance glanced at the clock. She was running almost ten minutes late. She sighed deeply, and handed her daughter over to the woman, trying to avoid skin contact with her but her warm tan hands accidentally brushed Constance's cold clammy hands, sending a shiver up her spine. Something about that woman rubbed her the wrong way, she couldn't pinpoint it.
"I'll be back to get you once class is done, all right love?" Constance gave her daughter a chaste kiss on her head, and one final warning glare at Imogen before she left. She stormed off down the hallway and shouted at the girls who had taken her lateness as a sign to leave.
"Where do you think you're all going? Get back to class!" she roared as the girls scrambled to get back into the classroom.
.::.::.
Constance was a nervous wreck throughout her entire class. It was only an hour long, but to her, it felt like it was three hours. She was just glad that it was a written exam, and therefore she didn't have to be bothered with making sure the girls weren't fooling around or trying to cheat behind their cauldrons.
Constance didn't sit down once. She constantly paced all around the room, eyeing her students like a hawk. Every time she passed her door, she managed to catch a glimpse out the window across the courtyard at Imogen and Charlotte. Imogen had a class to teach as well, but it was more like a free period. She let the girls play with jump ropes or handballs and other sporting equipment. She didn't seem to mind what they did, just as long as they were doing something other than standing around and chatting with one another.
Constance felt a stab of jealousy as she saw how well her daughter and the non-witch got along. Imogen was entertaining the girl by juggling; 'what a clown' Constance thought distastefully. Charlotte laughed and clapped in delight. She never did that when it was just her and Constance ...
She immediately dropped that thought. After all, it wasn't her place. She was never a very affectionate person. She left all that to Zachariah Wolfsbane, her husband, whom which she wouldn't have married if the marriage had not been arranged since birth.
The man was twelve years her elder. She married him when she was 18, and he, 30. If anyone asked, she'd say she went through with it because she needed her inheritance. But her real reason for marrying him was that little blonde-haired girl whom she doted on constantly whenever she was on holiday.
Constance wanted a daughter so much that she waited ten whole years until Zachariah was finally comfortable with the idea. Despite his reluctance to have any children, he was smitten by Charlotte. And for the first time in the ten years since they married, Constance and Zachariah finally had something in common.
She collected the last of the exams and magicked the room back in order before sweeping out of her classroom, magically closing and locking it as she headed out to the courtyard.
Miss Drill was busy inflating some new volleyballs with a manual pump in the store shed when she saw Miss Hardbroom arrive. Miss Hardbroom eyed the PE teacher dangerously when she did not see her daughter at a quick glance about the room.
"Well?" she asked, "Where is she?"
"Shh!" Miss Drill said with a finger to her lips and a grin, "She fell asleep on the gymnast mat."
Constance stepped forward towards the back of the shed and immediately spotted that mess of wavy blonde hair, "No need to be quiet, Miss Drill," she said, "The girl is just like her father- a bomb could go off and she wouldn't stir at all."
Constance sat down beside her daughter, who was sprawled out on her side, thumb in mouth. Constance gently removed her hand from her mouth, and brushed the hair from her face, and as she did so, she allowed a flow of magic to seep through her.
"What's that you're doing?" Miss Drill asked.
"Nightmares." Constance said simply, "It's the only thing that's bound to wake her. My husband usually forgets to do it for her."
Miss Drill sat down opposite the mat, looking at Charlotte's peaceful form.
"She's beautiful ..." Miss Drill said, and Constance's eyes flickered over to her and they locked eyes for a brief moment.
"I didn't even know you had a husband, let alone ..." Miss Drill stopped when Constance glared at her.
"It's not your place to know," she said simply, turning her attention back to her daughter. She was at ease just watching her sleep. Even Miss Drill wouldn't be able to get a rise out of her as long as Constance was watching Charlotte. Constance envied the girl. She wished she could sleep just as peacefully.
"I know," Miss Drill said quietly, nodding, "Will she be here long?"
Constance was silent a moment, watching her daughter's chest rise and fall with steady breaths, "Her father will be by to fetch her tomorrow."
"Divorced?"
Constance's dark eyes fell upon the PE teacher once more, "No."
Miss Drill nodded awkwardly, wishing she didn't bother to have a word with this witch.
"We're separated, to a degree," Constance said truthfully, allowing the non-magickal woman to know as little as possible, "He teaches at a primary school for witches and wizards," she looked back to Charlotte, "She'll be attending the same school in two years."
"Will she be attending Cackle's then? When she's of age, I mean ..."
Constance never even considered it. Sure, she wanted her to be here, with her, but in order to get a proper education, she'd have to be enrolled in a separate school. She wasn't sure she was ready to have a family member attend Cackle's, and after all, everyone on her husband's side (the girls, anyway) had always attended Salamander Witch School. She knew Charlotte would wind up going there, no matter what she said.
"I have to bring her to bed," Constance said suddenly, her voice wavering a bit. She gathered her daughter up into her arms and vanished, leaving a confused Imogen sitting alone in the store shed.
.::.::.
Constance did not sleep that night. This was, of course, due to her consumption of a wide-awake potion. She didn't want to sleep. She spent all night lying in bed beside her daughter, watching her as she slept, sending a gentle stream of magic through her child's veins whenever she sensed the slightest amount of discomfort.
She had basically given up her daughter after she was born- why did she care what happened to her now?
As much as she wanted a daughter, she found herself hating her at the exact same time. She couldn't choose between Cackle's and her daughter. She had been working for Cackle's since she was seventeen years old. The only thing that had ever kept her from teaching was her pregnancy, and, on Amelia's orders, she was forced to take off for a year.
She was bored out of her mind, having read every book in their library. She had resorted to becoming a tutor for some of her in-law's kids, but it just wasn't the same. She missed Cackle's the entire time. She missed her potions lab, she missed Amelia, and she even missed Davina! Most of all, she missed her students, as much as they never ceased to wreak havoc and get into all sorts of trouble.
She vowed that she would hire a nanny and leave at once for Cackle's Academy as soon as she had given birth. Such a vow wasn't an easy one, nor was it practical, for Charlotte was born in May, and there was no sense in Constance returning to Cackle's with just a month left of teaching.
She loved Charlotte, but she was no good with babies. A nanny was hired, Georgina Bandersnatch, and she was great with babies. Constance couldn't stand babies. All Charlotte ever did was scream and cry, and it only made Constance look forward to her return to Cackle's in the fall.
She felt awful now, having avoided her daughter for the most part in her early years. Eventually, as Charlotte grew older, her tolerance for her mother's constant absence would grow into resentment. Someday, she might lose her forever.
Constance still lay in bed, watching her daughter as the sun began to rise. She sensed her husband's arrival, and soon, she could hear the front door bell ring.
She picked up her daughter, careful not to wake her as she rested Charlotte's head into the crook of her neck. She took the long way down, by foot, letting her husband know through magic that she was on her way. She didn't want him to ring the bell again, lest he wake up the entire school.
She opened the front door with the slightest movement of her pointer and pinky finger, her arms wrapped around her daughter's sleeping form.
Her husband stood there in the early morning light, in his dark green wizarding robes and that itchy prematurely grey beard whose only purpose she felt was to deflect her from him all the more, as if she needed a reason to. He smiled vaguely at her, but his green eyes only seemed to see Charlotte, not Constance.
"Good morning," he said quietly, "I trust she behaved herself?"
Constance nodded, "Yes," she replied, barely audibly as she rested her cheek briefly atop her daughter's soft head. She planted a kiss atop her brow, hoping Charlotte felt it in her dreams.
He moved to take her, and Constance reluctantly handed her over, her words practically jumbling out of her mouth, "Remember to use magic on her before she sleeps or else she'll have nightmares."
He didn't say anything. Stubborn fool. He probably wanted nature to simply have it's way with her. Constance didn't want any harm to come to Charlotte, in each and every way. Perhaps constantly blocking nightmares was overkill, but she didn't care. She wished she had someone around to do it for her, when she was young.
"Zachariah?" Constance asked as he turned to leave, and he looked over in question.
"What school will Charlotte be attending?" She asked, "When she's of age, I mean ..."
"Salamander's, of course," he said with a small smile, "You know that."
Constance nodded lightly, hoping the sadness in her eyes was barely readable, "Yes, of course ..."
She shut the door as he disappeared with their daughter. Her daughter.
And for a moment, she allowed herself to shed a single tear as she stood alone in the entranceway, back against the door.
(A/N)- Review? :)