Fun & Frolics, a worst witch fanfic

Hello all,

This is just a oneshot – yet another "aside" from Bellatoxica.

Although it isn't predominantly a femslash story, there are some strong references. Consider yourselves warned.

Oh and there are some swearwords too... naughty me!

HBF

Fun & Frolics

It was no joke having a teacher like Miss Hardbroom. Not when that penetrating stare singled you out in class, causing you to perspire unpleasantly. Not when a curt reprimand brought the flush of colour to your cheeks, ruining an otherwise perfect day. Even the fragile hearts of girls with closeted crushes on their potions mistress could not help but be shattered when she raised her voice in their direction. And, as Mildred and her friends were about to discover, the "Hardbroom Experience", coupled with a hangover, was definitely no laughing matter.

It had all been Fenella Feverfew's idea.

'It'll be fine,' she assured, glancing from one sceptical face to the next. 'Batty Bat's on dorm duty tonight, and everyone knows she never spot-checks a room. She still stands in the middle of the first-year corridor singing lullabies.'

'God, don't remind me,' Enid rolled her eyes.

'So,' added Griselda, 'We'll come and fetch you at about nine-thirty. Once we've cast the spells, we'll make our way down to the village. So have a think about what sort of look you want to go for. Oh - and leave your broomsticks behind,' she smirked. 'We don't want the locals getting suspicious.'

Mildred looked at Maud, unsurprised to see the expression of trepidation on her friend's face. Indeed, her own better judgement told her that this was all going to end in tears. But it did sound like fun...

'I'm really not sure about this,' whispered Maud, twisting the ends of her loose hair around her fingers. She was curled up on the end of Mildred's bed, watching as the bats unfurled their wings and prepared to leave the castle for the night.

'Well,' said Mildred, brushing Tabby's fur whilst he preened and purred on her pillow. 'It's a bit late to do anything about it now. Still, what's the point of boarding school if you don't bend the rules once in a while?'

'That's just it,' said Maud, exasperated. 'We're always bending the rules, whether to pass a test, impress one of the older girls or just for kicks. And I can't help but think this time we'll be totally overstepping the mark.'

There was a soft knock at the door, which both the girls recognised to be that of Enid. She let herself in, closing the door quietly behind her.

'I just saw Bat,' she whispered, 'She was waltzing down the corridor with that ghost again. At least, I couldn't see her dancing partner...'

The girls giggled.

'Seriously, though,' said Maud. 'We mustn't underestimate her temper. Remember when she lost it with you, Mil, that time Enid was singing Eye of Newt out of tune?'

'Hmmm,' Mildred pondered into the middle distance. 'But she's nothing compared to Hardbroom. Or even Miss Drill – she might be more on a par with the students than any of the others, but she's no pushover.'

'Oh, stop worrying, you two,' said Enid, looking out of the slit window at the night sky. 'We just have to trust Fenny and Gris. They know all the secret routes out of here and they've never been caught yet. Have you thought about the look you're going for?'

'I thought forties glam,' Grinned Mildred. 'And Maud said seventies disco. You?'

'Well,' Enid ducked her head as the bats fluttered out. 'I think something a bit vampish – you know, red lipstick, smoky eyes...'

'Very sexy,' The girls looked around to see Griselda sneaking in to join them, soon afterwards joined by Fenella, who cast one final look along the darkened corridor.

The three younger girls were open-mouthed as their friends stepped into the candlelight. Fenella and Griselda had taken the characteristic risk of preparing themselves for the night ahead before running the gauntlet of corridors to Mildred's room. Fenella was dressed in skin-tight jeans, gladiator sandals (despite the cold weather – "Well, they'll be out of fashion by the time we legitimately get to wear them, won't they?"), and a blouse tied in a knot at the waist. Griselda was wearing Daisy Dukes, black tights and a pair of killer heels, along with a strapless top and military-style jacket. Both were meticulously made up, and looked several years older than they did in the dreary Cackle's uniform.

Griselda flexed her spell-casting fingers.

'Right, who's up first? Mildred?'

All faces turned to her as she clambered to her feet.

'What'll it be?'

'I was thinking...' Mildred narrowed her eyes as if to make her final decision. 'Something along the lines of Dita Von Teese.'

Griselda and Fenella exchanged gleeful glances.

'Cosmeticus quattrus pinnupus!'

With a flash of green light, Mildred was transformed out of her oversized nightgown into a black silk evening dress. Her hair was coiffured into a low forties chignon, and she peered into her mirror at the slick black eyeliner and mascara that adorned her eyes, pressing her newly bright red lips together.

'Blimey, Mil, you look about eighteen!' said Maud, as her friend grinned back at her in the mirror. Enid shot to her feet.

'This is gunna be quality!' she said, barely containing her excitement. 'Gothic vamp for me, please, Gris!'

'Cosmeticus gothico magnifico!'

The same shard of light shot from Griselda's fingers, and the New and Improved Enid Nightshade that stood before them was enveloped black pencil skirt and a red corset. Her lips were a deep shade of crimson and her eyes were professionally made up with smoky grey eyeshadow.

A few moments later, and Maud was clad in bootcut jeans, a neon striped top and glittering makeup. They girls bundled around Mildred's wall-mounded mirror to get a closer look at themselves.

'Wow – thanks you two! I'm not even allowed to wear this much makeup at home!' beamed Maud. 'Enid, you'd better watch the local fellas dressed like that...'

'Right now, listen, you lot,' said Fenella, once the initial excitement died down. 'I've borrowed Mr Blossom's keys so we can get out via the gate. We know the best way across the yard that'll keep us out of view of the teachers' quarters for as long as possible. Stick close to me and Gris, OK?'

'OK,' chorused the girls.

At the opposite end of the castle, on the floor above that of the students' rooms, Constance Hardbroom lay in the darkness of her chamber. Her body shuddered slightly, her breath catching in her throat as she reached above her head, seizing a rattling brass bar of her bedstead... She had tried to ignore a sound that emanated from downstairs, rather like that of students creeping about the corridors, instead focussing on the teetering ecstasy she felt beneath the covers... She moved faster, breathed harder, arched her back and...

'Stop!' she whispered loudly, her feet sliding against the mattress as she forced herself up into a sitting position and magically lit the candle on her bedside cabinet. Her eyes were wide and she listened intently. A brief scuffle with the bedclothes followed and Imogen Drill emerged from about halfway down the mattress, an expression of pure exasperation on her face.

'What is it?' she hissed at the potions mistress, who was suddenly mortified by her own nakedness and clutched a sheet to hide her modesty.

'I heard a noise... I think some of the students are out of bed!' Constance hastened to her feet, tripping over the bedclothes that she had entangled herself in and dashing to the window. Imogen sighed, lying on her front with the heel of her hand propping up her chin, her ankles crossed in the air.

'Oh, leave them be,' she said, her voice only just above a whisper. 'They won't come to any harm. Come back to bed.'

Constance glanced back from the window, aghast.

'And let them run amok? Do you know just how much trouble young witches are capable of getting themselves into, Imogen? This isn't Malory Towers – lives are always in danger when magic is combined with inexperience.'

'You said we were going to spend the night together!'

'Yes, well – I'm afraid that doesn't amount to a whole-hearted dereliction of duty on my part.'

Imogen rolled onto her back, letting her arms flop out to the sides. A brief thought scuttled through her mind as she considered, not for the first time, enlisting psychiatric help for her lover's workaholism.

'Constance. This is the first night since goodness-knows-when that neither you nor I have been on dorm duty.' She sat up, quickly. 'And why the hell are we whispering?'

On receiving no reply, Imogen joined Constance at the window that looked onto the yard and Walker's Gate.

'I'm sure I just saw it close...'

'Don't you think they'd fly over?' Imogen's tone was sardonic, but Constance didn't rise to it.

'It depends where they're going...'

'Assuming they're going anywhere. Look, Constance,' Imogen put her hands on the potions mistress's waist, turning her around to face her. Her eyes roved over Constance's elegant collarbone, down to where she had the sheet clutched tightly about her chest, emphasising her bosom a little more than Constance probably intended.

'You look like a Goddess,' Constance blushed at Imogen's brazen romanticism, as the gym mistress's fingers traced a line where the sheet met her flesh. 'My Goddess.' She slipped a hand behind Constance's neck, coercing her gently until their lips met in a kiss. Constance jerked away, shocked to taste herself on Imogen's lips.

'See?' the gym mistress smiled playfully. 'You're delicious.'

'Imogen, I really think we should –'

The younger woman kissed her again, hungrily, Constance half-heartedly fighting her off.

'Imogen! We can't just leave –'

'Yes, we can.' Imogen was already pushing Constance back towards the bed. As the flesh of her calves collided with it, Constance collapsed onto the mattress, pulling Imogen on top of her. The pair observed each other for several intense moments before Imogen finally spoke.

'Now. Where were we?'

'Proof of age, love?'

'Err...' Mildred felt a nervous writhing in her stomach as the landlord observed her. He looked like anyone's dad: probably in his late forties, with grey hair, a blue chequered shirt that housed the obligatory beer gut and a likely-regretted tattoo on his forearm.

'Oh yeah,' she remembered the slip of paper Fenella had given her as they'd traipsed through the forest, and could only hope it looked legit, given that Mildred herself had been too distracted by the possibility of being caught en-route to have checked it out. As the landlord unfolded it, looking from Mildred to the document, and back again to Mildred, the moments seemed to stretch on endlessly. Mildred's guilt-laden heart pumped in her chest as her head was filled with horrible images of the following morning, when she would likely be standing in Miss Cackle's office, the headmistress solemn with an even less impressed Miss Hardbroom at her left shoulder as they enquired as to where, precisely, she had obtained fake I.D...

'That's fine, love. What'll it be?'

'Sorry – what?'

'To drink?' The landlord spoke to Mildred as he might a foreign tourist, and a barmaid with a dyed black hair and a grossly over-emphasised cleavage let out a giggle.

'Oh – er,' she turned to the others, who were all looking impatient. 'Bottle of house white?'

'Make it two,' added Fenella, slamming a twenty onto the counter.

'Righto. Take a seat and we'll bring it over.'

'Where'd you get the money?' Mildred whispered as the five of them sidled around a table and discreetly drew the aged velvet green curtains, aware they were being observed by the curious locals.

'I'm 'sposed to be saving it for the trip to the magical roadshow later in the term,' Fenella replied. 'But my sister, Florence, went to it when she was here – she said it's a load of old crap and the money's better off spent down the pub.'

It was the usual sort of village watering hole – almost empty apart from a few of the bar-proppers who were probably there every night. A fruit machine flashed wildly to the far end of the bar, and a couple of flat-capped locals were chatting in mumbled yokel-speak at the bar, choking on phlegm as they wheezed in laughter. The resident collie dog appeared from time to time, sniffing the garish carpet for discarded crisps and paying little heed to the clientele. Enid tried to coax it over, and Griselda slid from her seat and made her way to the fruit machine, slotting in a few pound coins so that it started beeping and chirping like it hadn't been played in years.

'I really think this is going to be a waste of time,' Imogen hopped on one leg as she squeezed clumsily back into her shorts. Constance was buttoning the neck of her dress with well-practiced ease, already having scraped her hair back into a high ponytail. She muttered a brief spell and Imogen nearly toppled over in amazement as the plait began to form itself, coiling around the base of the ponytail into Constance's trademark bun.

'Catching mischief in action is never a waste of time, Imogen,' replied the potions mistress, with a look of avid determination.

Mildred was feeling lightheaded from her second glass of wine. Fenella had suggested she water it down with soda, and as the vision of her third glass being poured swam before her eyes, Mildred had a vague suspicion that diluting alcohol was the worst thing she could have done. The ease with which it went down meant she'd probably have been better off drinking it neat.

Still, Maud and Enid seemed to be OK... perhaps the feeling would pass...

Griselda celebrated her fruit machine winnings by treating herself and Fenella to a packet of twenty Silk Cut from the cigarette machine – something they had no intention of sharing with the younger girls. Drink, they had decided, was something they had all probably tried at home already, on occasions such as Christmas, birthdays, weddings et cetera; but cigarettes were a slippery slope, and they justified their stance with the argument that, as they were now sixteen, they were above the age required by law to buy them and therefore old enough to make the decision.

'Well, it makes a change from holding it through a slit window, doesn't it?' said Griselda, leaning causally against the outside wall as the pub's sign swayed in the breeze. Fenella flicked the lighter to ignite her friend's cigarette before her own.

'Yep,' she drew in a lungful of smoke, savouring it for a moment before she exhaled. 'Plus we don't have to bother with fumigation spells out here. How much money have you got left?'

'A tenner.'

'Cool. One more bottle, and then we'll head back. Not even a tee-totaller could get hammered on the plonk they sell in this place. We'll get everyone back by twelve, and no one will be any the wiser – OK?'

'Thassit!' said Ned, the flat-capped local who had taken up residence in both Fen's and Gris's spaces at the table and was teaching the girls beer-mat tricks. He smelt as though his pores exuded alcohol, his complexion was ruddy and he had several teeth missing. 'Now do three in a row like that and I'll buy yers all a drink!'

Maud stacked six beer mats in a neat pile, perching them on the edge of the table. Her friends homed in, watching eagerly and whispering words of encouragement. She poised the back of her fingers beneath the half of the mats that hung over the edge of the table, gearing herself up to make her move at precisely the right moment. With a sudden flick of her wrist, the pile flew into the air, flipped over and she caught the intact pile in one swift movement. Her friends cheered and whooped before settling down to await her next attempt, and some of the other customers gathered around for the spectacle. Without the use of magic, Maud performed the same move twice more, and there was a raucous cheer from everyone in the pub as she blushed, smiling widely.

'Nice one, lass!' came a voice from near the bar. 'It ain't often ol' Ned puts his hand in his wallet!' This truth in this statement was apparent from the dejected expression on the old man's face. Maud put a hand on his shoulder.

'Don't worry, Ned,' she smiled as her friends began to sing a version of the school song, with lyrics that were a little more risqué than the original. 'We've still got wine left. How about another pint for yourself?'

Ned's face brightened.

'That'd be smashin', duck. Pint o' Tribute!'

As Maud whispered the words of an incantation, Ned did a double-take as his empty pint glass filled to the brim with honey-coloured liquid. He raised it to his eyes, and Maud could see them magnified through the other side of the glass, suppressing a giggle. His jaw dropped and he placed the glass back down on its coaster, rubbing his eyes and muttering something about having had "too much of the ol' amber nectar..."

Griselda retched slightly as she stubbed out her fifth cigarette.

'Knew I shouldn't have had that many.'

'What's that?' Fenalla whispered, an urgent tone in her voice.

'I said I shouldn't have had that many fags...'

'No – THAT!' Fenella gripped her friend's waist, hoisting her in front so that they were virtually sharing the same line of vision.

A figure was emerging in the distance, somewhere in the thickness of the dark forest... no, two figures... The girls narrowed their eyes, holding their smoky breath as the sickening realisation flooded them...

'Oh my GOD! It's Hardbroom! And Drill! FUCK!'

Sure enough, the two teachers were marching purposefully towards the pub. (Well, Miss Hardbroom was. Miss Drill looked as though she were a rather reluctant participant in this particular act of sleuthing.)

Slinking back into the shadows, Griselda and Fenella looked to each other with panic-stricken eyes. Glancing along the wall to the blacked-out window where the girls were sitting, they looked again to the ever-nearing staff members, and exchanged a resolute nod as though reading each other's minds.

'Now!'

Enid frowned. There was a definite scuffling at the window. She looked over to Mildred, who was lying awkwardly with her head on Maud's lap, her arms flailing about and singing terribly whilst Maud chatted away to Ned. Unable to ignore the sound much longer, Enid cautiously drew back a fraction of the curtain and peered into the darkness.

It took a moment for her to realise that it was Fenella and Griselda desperately mouthing through the glass, pointing wide-eyed towards the entrance and making throat-slitting motions with their fingers. Enid was horrified as she as she realised the implications of what they were saying, her entire body filling with a weakening sense of fear as she shook Mildred hard and babbled incoherently to Maud, trying to divert her attention from Ned.

'Teachers!' she exclaimed, 'Coming in! Loos – QUICK!'

They scrambled to their feet, Maud pulling Mildred's arm so that she stumbled out from her seat and staggered towards the toilets with them.

'Pssst! Girls – in here!' The barmaid was grinning conspiratorially and indicating a tiny alcove separated from the rest of the pub by a red velvet curtain. 'Get in here – it's the Snug! If anyone comes I'll tell them it's out of bounds – being refurbished!'

The girls piled in, taking their seats around the oblong table. Enid had pulled the cuffs of her jacket over her fists and was breathing heavily into the material as though it might silence her deep breaths, looking desperately to Maud who had clasped a hand over Mildred's mouth and listened, the voices of their bickering teachers now within earshot. Mildred was still humming the school song, oblivious to their potential peril. After a moment the barmaid joined them again, bringing with her a tray of soft drinks.

'Here ya go, girls,' she inclined her gaze at Mildred. 'Looks like you might wanna sober that one up!'

'Are we in trouble?' Maud whispered, her eyes glistening with shame, 'For being underage?'

The barmaid smiled, fondly.

'Not with us, love. We're only a small local boozer – there won't be no word from the old Bill round here, neither - so as far as we're concerned, we'll turn a blind eye and be grateful for the custom. Those yer teachers, are they?'

Maud and Enid nodded.

'They'll kill us if they find out we're here, Miss.'

'Well they won't find out from us, love,' the barmaid winked. 'I'm Shazzer, by the way.'

Constance strode slowly from table to empty table, her eyes narrowed and her senses heightened. Imogen waited by the bar, trying to make small-talk with the landlord but unable to distract his curiosity from the somewhat otherworldly woman who was now pacing his hostelry.

Constance stopped at a table, surveying the two discarded ice-buckets complete with upturned wine bottles and five glasses, some of which were still half-full. The only occupant of the table was an elderly, unshaven man in a tattered tweed jacket, who grinned up at her, exposing the few discoloured teeth he had left.

'All right, duck?' The old man patted his knee. 'Fancy joining ol' Neddie for a drink?'

Constance did her best not to grimace.

'No, I certainly do not,' she said, icily, recoiling as the barmaid's bosom wobbled past her. Shazzer threw a hospitable smile up at Constance as she lifted the bar's hatch and disappeared out the back.

'They're not here, Constance,' Imogen called, giving up her one-sided banter with the landlord. 'Let's have a drink and get back.'

'Why on earth would we choose to drink here?' Constance hissed as she loomed up to the gym mistress, inadvertently brushing her sleeve as though the very air itself was diseased.

'We can't come in and not have a drink!' snapped Imogen, fumbling in her tiny handbag for her purse. 'It's only a village pub and we're probably the only new punters they'll get all week. It'd be rude not to.'

Constance sighed heavily and slid onto a bar stool.

'I am not, and never will be, a "punter"!'

Imogen rolled her eyes as her elbows came to rest on the bar.

'Two large house reds, please.'

'What's happening?'

'I can't tell,' Enid strained to listen at the curtain. Mildred groaned in Maud's lap. Shazzer reappeared to take away the empties.

'Yer all right,' she said, in hushed tones. 'They're havin' a drink.'

Maud and Enid gawped at each other.

'Hardbroom having a drink! It's got to be water!'

'Hardbroom?' said Shazzer, on the verge of laughter. 'What sorta name is that?'

'Shhh!' Enid placed a finger in front of her fading lipstick. 'She's a right dragon – I wouldn't mock, if I were you...'

'She yer headmistress?'

'Err – science teacher,' faltered Maud.

'Who's the other one?'

'Miss Drill, our PE teacher.'

'Right...' said Shazzer, peering out from the curtain towards the bar. 'That figures.'

'What d'you mean?' asked Enid.

'Well, it's true what they say, you know. My ol' PE teacher, she was a lesbian too.'

Maud and Enid exchanged puzzled glances.

'Ay?'

'...and unless I'm very much mistaken,' continued Shazzer as though she hadn't picked up on the confusion, 'Yours is holding yer science teacher's hand right now...'

'WHAT?' Maud's jaw dropped.

'This I have to see...' Enid pushed herself up from her seat, her fear forgotten, peering through the curtain beside Shazzer.

'Oh. My. God!'

'You're not shoving hard enough!' Fenella growled, trying to position her hands so that when she finally did make it through the small window, she did not make a dive for the open toilet. 'And my hips are killing! Get a move on, will you?'

'I'm doing the best I can!' Griselda stopped to glance around in the darkness, her breath illustrating the cold night air. 'Are you sure the cubicle's locked from the inside?'

'Of course it bloody is, I magicked it, didn't I?'

'All right, all right, don't get arsey with me! This was all your idea, anyway!'

Fenella finally slid to the cold tiled floor and landed in an ungainly heap. Hoisting herself to her feet, she cast a quick spell and could only hope that an "Out of Order" sign had appeared on the outside of the door. She turned to the window to reach for Griselda's arms, pulling her awkwardly though.

'Anyone here?' Griselda's whisper reverberated around the walls of the ladies toilets. They stood stock still as they waited for a response which didn't come.

'Where the hell are they, then?'

'Onward, ever striiiiiving onward...' Mildred flung an arm around Maud's neck as her friend listed their somewhat limited options, Enid all the while distracted by what she had seen at the bar.

'Shhh, Millie,' urged Maud, 'Enid, think! They're bound to have searched our rooms already. What are we going to say?'

'I don't know... but... HB and Drill...!'

'Enid, forget about that - '

'You wouldn't if you'd seen it with your own eyes!'

'Yeah, well, I didn't,' said Maud, irritated by her friend's distraction given their grave plight. 'And it was probably nothing.'

'It wasn't nothing, Maud – Drill was holding HB's hand, and HB was looking all starry-eyed at her until she realised where she was and snatched it away,' Enid spoke as if regaling a vague dream. 'But... Drill... and HB...!'

'Whassat?' mumbled Mildred, her head lolling about as she tried to construct a sentence. 'MisssssDrilllovesHB...? aaaaahhhh...'

'It's been ages - do you think they've been caught?'

'Nah,' Fenella said, laid-back as always. 'They'd have come in here looking for us, wouldn't they?'

'Yeah... I spose,' Griselda contemplated the situation. 'Let's give it a few more minutes and we'll check back in.'

Maud listened as chairs scraped across the strip of wooden flooring that surrounded the bar. Miss Drill could be heard exchanging words of thanks with the landlord, and there was a chilly draught as the entrance door was opened.

'I think they're going!' whispered Maud.

Enid waited for the door to close again. Shazzer didn't reappear, as she'd expected her to. With a delicate movement, Enid pulled back the curtain and peered silently round. Ned was draining the dregs of the wine at their previous table, and the two barstools where the teachers had been were deserted.

'They have! Thank fuck for that!'

Maud flopped back against her seat, letting out a relieved puff and smiling for the first time in nearly an hour. Mildred, who was still drunk but now at least able to sit up unaided, was bleary-eyed and yawning and seemingly completely unaware of what had been going on.

'Seriously,' said Maud, 'I thought we were done for. Can you imagine HB's face if she saw Mildred in this state?'

'Would it look a little something like this?'

The girls froze as the icy tones shot through all of them, the curtain sweeping back to reveal their potions mistress surveying them with manic triumph in her eyes.

'Miss!' Mildred beamed, as though there wasn't anyone in the world she would rather have seen at that moment, trampling over Maud as she threw herself at Miss Hardbroom, clasping her arms about her bemused form mistress's waist. 'We're having a paaaartae! Maudie?' Mildred's head wobbled as she squinted somewhere in the direction of Maud, trying to point sternly to her friend. 'Donjussssit there... get Missshardbroomadrink...'

As Mildred slid into an inelegant heap at Miss Hardbroom's feet, Fenella and Griselda stumbled out of the toilets, their giggling brought to an abrupt halt by the sight of their teacher.

'Well well,' Miss Hardbroom looked as though all her birthdays and Christmases had come at once. 'The famous five, all together. And who, may I ask, is going to give me an explanation for this particular charade?'

Lunchtime came and went, and their punishment had barely started.

Griselda was to clean every pane of glass in every window in the school. Fenalla was on floor-scrubbing duty. Maud had been whacking the dust out of the tattered old curtains, Enid polished the school's silverware; and Mildred... well, Mildred had been assigned the role of Strategic Project Manager and was forbidden to sit down even for a second, despite her epic hangover.

'This totally sucks,' spat Enid, as she replaced the lid on the basketball trophy. She looked to Maud, whose face was set in an expression of determination not to speak to her friends. She had known the whole thing was a terrible idea from the word go, and however much fun they'd had in the interim, the punishment was in no way worth it.

'Look guys,' said Fenella, getting stiffly to her feet and slinging her cloth into the bucket of dirty water. 'This is all our fault. We'll make it up to you sometime. Promise.'

'Like how?' Griselda turned from the window she was cleaning, almost toppling off her ladder. 'Take them down the pub? Nice one, Fenella. And might I remind you, yet again, that it was your idea, not mine.'

'I just want to sit down!' Mildred wailed, tears trickling down her cheeks as she clutched her throbbing head. 'And I'm never drinking alcohol ever again!'

Enid walked over to her, putting an arm around her friend's shoulders.

'It's all right, Mil,' she said, brightening, 'I think I might have an idea that'll let us off the hook for the rest of the afternoon. We just have to wait for HB to come along for her next check-up.'

A short time later, Miss Hardbroom appeared out of nowhere, her arms folded as she eyed the group contemptuously.

'Well, girls, once you have finished your cleaning duties you can prepare a play entitled "The Dangers of Drink and Disobedience", to be performed during tomorrow morning's assembly. Understand?'

'Please Miss,' sobbed Mildred, helplessly, putting her hands to her ears, 'Not so loud!'

'Miss Hardbroom,' Enid stepped forward, squaring up to her form mistress. 'We've been cleaning for five hours solid and I can assure you we've all learnt out lesson. So how about we come to a compromise?'

The potion mistress wordlessly dared the girl to continue.

'How about, after we finish in here, we just give the yard a quick sweep – just to rid it of the fallen leaves – and then call it a day?'

'Call it a day?' Miss Hardbroom repeated. Enid nodded, a vacuous smile forming on her lips.

'Mhm. And... if you're in agreement... we'll see to it that no rumours are spread about your relationship with Miss Drill.'

The rest of the girls froze, watching as the colour drained out of Miss Hardbroom's face. Enid raised her eyebrows, smugly.

After several seconds during which Miss Hardbroom seemed to reign in a terrible rage, she took a step closer to Enid and spoke dangerously under her breath.

'For your blatant cheek, Enid Nightshade, you have been awarded the privilege of writing and directing the play. And I expect it to be of a standard that would sweep the board at the Oscars. And whilst you're at it you can write out, one thousand times, I must not attempt to blackmail my potions mistress.'

Enid gulped as Miss Hardbroom vanished.

She turned to the rest of her friends in outrage, about to suggest a rebellion by way of rumour-spreading when Miss Hardbroom's steely voice rang out around them.

'And if I hear any scurrilous stories doing the rounds, girls - it's the chop.'

The girls returned silently to the duties of their punishment, unable to help themselves admiring their potions mistress for her unshakable supremacy.

The End

Yes, I know you have to be 18 to buy cigarettes in the UK now... but can we just pretend this was set before the law change came along and buggered up my plot!Hope you enjoyed – please review!