A/N Chapter two of three... Maaaaayybee, that is if I do decide to leave it as a trilogy... Anyway more of constance and Imogens past... Next chapter... Lots of love, a cruel head teacher and a hard goodbye... And a new hello.

Both girls had cried themselves to a troubled sleep that night, both in pain, curled up tight, with identical scars. The open scratches down the young girls back were ablaze and stinging, as innocent blood stained the chalk white covers, as innocent tears stained her chalk white cheeks. Imogen didn't have the strength to take her short golden hair from her bobble, at each attempt of lifting her hers, the bruises prevented her with a sharp shock of unique pain. She just lay, half clothed till sleep beckoned her to a safer much nicer place, where there was no Hecketty Broomhead, not yet...

Constance on the other hand simply could not catch a wink of sleep that had generously been bestowed upon the weak first year, she doubted she could ever sleep again, not with the stone cold eyes that plagued her dreams. The nail marked had scarred over, but with her hair down, it was almost as if they were nonexistent. And with her long school dress, she could pass as any ordinary student. Her conscience weighed heavily on her bruised shoulders as it continued to sink in that she had condemned the talented witch to damnation. It was her burden, hers, and she had never wanted the same outcome for anybody, nobody deserved the punishment. She didn't know just how long she had been up, laying in the deadly silence, thinking, sobbing, staring at nothing in particular. Silent tears streamed from her dark eyes, leaking into her already damp pillowcase. She had never felt so guilty, never before in her whole life.

Constance swung her legs over the side of her bed, slipping back into her socks, not too fond in the idea of walking barefoot along the cold halls, and her shoes would make too much noise. But she couldn't force the blonde out of her head no matter how hard she tried. She was permanent. And so was Hecketty Broomhead. The young girl slipped away into the derelict night, creeping through the cold, abandoned hallways.

The sleeping blonde didn't stir when the witch sneaked into her chambers to check on her. The tied back hair held most the strands away, exposing her perfect, tanned face. She was so serene and peaceful, for all Constance knew, she could have been dreaming blissfully, and she suddenly felt like an intruder, and was about to go back to the safety of her own quarters, that was until she saw the blood that stained her bedsheets. The first time she had been a victim of Hecketty Broomheads wickedness, the blood terrified her, making her feel decrepit and damaged like a fragile spider web, destroyed. She had been very scared, before she had learnt them, but now being in her fifth year, she had spent many sessions in the library learning for such occasions. Imogen was in such a deep sleep, that Constance thought very little of entering her room. Her pinafore tights and shirt were strawn to the end of the room and she was surprised she had managed that, as she herself had to sleep fully clothed. A pang of guilt blanketed her stomachs and the witch sat silently on the side of her bed. Imogen still didn't stir, not even when Constance brushed the fringe back, from her forehead behind her ear. She started to chant in a low whisper, although she was not the best at chanting, that particular spell had been used too many times into perfection. The wound closed, but the scar was clearly visible. It wouldn't go. They would serve as a reminder to a very long time.

The younger witch shuffled slightly, slightly more relaxed without an open cut.

(She should've left then, right then and everything would've been different. Constance would often reflect to herself when she was alone in the staffroom at Cackles. If she hadn't stayed... They might've been together still.)

But Constance didn't leave the room of the first year, and watched her sleep peacefully, knowing it must have been a very odd thing to do. After a long moment of hesitation, the witch slowly slipped her place hand into Imogens soft, delicate hand, trying not to wake her, but she wanted to do it, and even then she wondered why she had done it, but it wasn't enough to cause her to take her hand away. The owed the blonde her gratitude and Constance smiled slightly, sweeping her thumb tentatively across the back of her warm hand.

The smallest action was enough to wake Imogen, but the girl still laid there without opening her eyes, dumbfounded, yet marvelling at how her hand fit sweetly into the Constances, a girl she had never even spoken to... She tightened her fingers slightly much to both the witches surprise, forcing herself awake.

A small gasp was emitted from the pale lips, and it hung deadly in the air as the blonde witch roused herself, aching as she sat up, rubbing her eyes with her free hand, still looking vaguely surprised.

"C-constance..." Their emerald, startled eyes found the murky brown ones that had been laced in apprehension.

" I... I wondered if you were okay... After Broomhead" the young brunette whispered, slowly swinging her legs as she sat on the edge of the bed and Imogen looked up at her. "Why did you do it? What did she do?" The younger witch didn't seem keen on answering, as she relit the candle, to see better.

"I can't explain it properly... I could sense, sort of, an aura about you, something sensual about you. I can't describe it, but you are... Special of some ways." The girl simply shrugged it off like it had been no big deal, but it was a large deal for the girl who often coped with the headmistress brutality.

"What did she do to you Imogen?" Still she hadn't let go off the girls hand, not even noticing. The dark circles around her eyes almost vanished in the dim candlelight.

" It was those terrible nails... And that corrosive potion, her fingers hurt though " constance winced slightly twice she had been forced to kneel in the acidic potion that burnt her knees, seated her skin. " I feel like a walking piƱata... " Imogen drill whispered, before giggling at the others confused reaction. " it's a normal child's game, where you hit a paper model with a rod till it breaks..." Constance didn't find the game very funny it could easily sound insulting. " my mother's a witch, but my father isn't, it's a rather odd thing really." Now the dark haired student sat crossed legged at the bottom of Imogene bed and listened curiously.

"Broomhead is scary though, and you stood up to her because of an aura you claim I have?" She questioned.

" oh, I said it sounds crazy... "

The candle wax had melted a good inch and a half as the two girls talked, without any worry for one that Hecketty Broomhead could walk in at any moment. It was only until Imogen and constance were laughing at Constance's story of the time she had accidentally turned her sister into a goldfish, that the brunette had softly rest her hand over her new friends mouth to silence her giggles just in case. Both bruised girls now laid on their backs, with their heads half hanging over the longer side of the bed, as they whispered and giggled as they began to actually get to know each other.

"Where did you learn to do that spell?" The young witch asked Imogen upon remembering the event from the previous day.

"I practised every single spell from gilded herbals book of useful spells while I was at home... I always wanted to do magic as long as I can remember, my mother taught me early. My father always loved to watch..." A moment of silence passed the two friends. "What about your family?" Constance had been trying to avoid the certain topic.

" my mother works at broomers repair shop, and my sister, Penelope, she goes to pentangles... My father died unexplained causes." Even to that day constance had no idea how her fathers death came about.

" oh," it sounded more like a whimper, as Imogen truly felt sorry for constance. It felt truly amazing to constance, to have somebody to rely on, Lavender and Priscilla didn't know as much. That night, Constance let imogen plait her hair in one long braid down her back. She felt so relaxed feeling the blondes fingers toy with her hair. And then she put it up, in a tight smart bun at the top of her head, a style that Constance loved and suited, deciding she would start seeing her hair like that more often. And every night roughly half an hour after lights out, Constance would sneak to Imogene room or vice versa.

"She's in my dreams sometimes" neither of them stiffened at this sort of talk, anymore, not around each other, and once or twice mistress Broomhead would enter the girl' conversations. " its really scary how she manipulates me with so much fear, that I even dream about her" Imogen admitted two weeks later fiddling with Constance's fingers, laying side by side on Constance's bed. Neither knew why they would do that, but it was always comforting, and sometimes even after they had returned to their own rooms, they would hold their own hands, so they could still be comforted and pretend the other was still there. Constance was smiling softly and closed her eyes.

"She gives me nightmares every night... I can't escape her during the day, and I can't escape her in the night. She is constantly haunting me. And each bruise that aches throughout the day reminds me just how hopeless life is sometimes, and each scar reminds me of my superiors and how stuck I am in this cruel prison, where I'm all alone" As she spoke a rogue tear spilled from the corner of her right eye, slipping down the side of her face, as she stared up at the ceiling. It was true, she was imprisoned in a world that was so harsh she once thought about ending it all together, but of course she couldn't.

" You've got me Constance..." the tanned girl whispered and wiped the salty tear away. Constance only nodded.

What happened then made no sense whatsoever, and it was so quick the young brunette wasn't sure if she had really felt Imogene's soft lips upon hers. Her eyes flew open in shock and the blonde witches cheeks were tinted an endearing shade of pink that answered Constance's unasked question. In truth she didn't know how to act. She had never been kissed before, unless it was by her family. Dark brown met dazzling green a moment before the blonde began to apologise.

" I'm sorry Constance, I don't know what came over me." The girl was flustered, and embarrassed, and closed her eyes to groan at herself. But Constance loved being loved, nobody loved her in this place, well she had her friends of course, but still... She had come across a love potion recipe and laughed to herself who she could bewitch, but of course she never would. She had even read those childhood classics that gave her an essential escape route from reality. She loved the happy endings, and could almost pretend such things did exist, but deep inside she knew they were made for fairy tales. Constance eyed the girl curiously a smile slipped upon her pale lips as the young girl pushed her dark hair behind her shoulders, as she half sat up, turning to the blonde and placing a soft full kiss on her warm lips. She could feel Imogen gasp beneath her lips as the young girl was very shocked. But the girl was the brightest girl at charms, surely she was used to a little magic. It wasn't long at all before the tanned girl was indeed reciprocating the kiss back. Imogen had been kissed before, a stupid, arrogant boy in her old first school had played out a dare, but that had been a joke and complete unwanted experience. This however was perfect... It wasn't a joke, she could detect the hint of want in her best friends kiss, a hint of desperation for someone, a hint of loneliness, and she returned it all with the feeling that the was indeed something about the dark haired girl, something that greatly allured her. She couldn't help feeling the adrenaline push around her body. Constances heart skipped a beat and all the nervousness she had felt before suddenly disappeared. They slowly stopped and parted their lips briefly. Sparkling dark chocolate met sweet emerald green eyes and they smile, and at that moment Imogen could see forever was in her beautiful eyes. The blonde sat up on her knees to match the others height better, as she gently caressed her fingertips lightly across her pale chalk white cheek, causing them both to slightly shiver, a smile painting their freshly kissed lips. Both looked undoubtedly shocked, and constance, with her hair up in a plaited bun ( thanks to Imogen) looked much older with her pale skin and contrasting dark eyes. Still the surprise was reflected in their eyes, not knowing why or what happened exactly. But the talented charms student was softly stroking her jaw, almost mesmerized by the soft porcelain. They had reached for each other lips at the same time, colliding with a heated passion, much more force than either had expected, but that didn't pull them away. Imogens hand trailed to the back of her neck, her fingers entwining up into the few loose strands of hair that hadn't been gripped back, that made the older witch shudder in delight. Although her lithe fingers had unintentionally ran over the fingernail shaped cuts in her neck, Constance had neither flinched nor noticed as she snaked her arm around her waist pulling the blonde closer to her as she also tugged her hair from its restraint, letting the short golden locks fall, and tickle her shoulders. Imogen cupped her cheeks, pressing her lips devotedly upon hers, until they were both short of breath. Even then, they shared short, fevers kisses the hot and fragrant breaths intermixing, chills shooting up her spine. Wasn't this how it was done in the books? A poor girl suffering from her evils stepmother, saved by a knight in shining armour. Well her story had been tweaked a bit, but to Constance, the younger student was just as good, maybe even better, who needed shining armour anyway? The dark haired beauty slowly pushed the girl back into her bed, searing their lips firmly as Imogen brought her down with her, keeping their lips locked that no key could fit to undo them.

" You're so beautiful Constance " the girl whispered almost giggling watching her friend maybe lover turn pink, a smile that she adored slipping onto her lips before planting a soft kiss on her nose.

" Imogen, you are in no place to make such statements" the girl laughed quietly, trapping the beauteous blonde beneath her, pinning her to the sheets as she kissed her way lovingly up her neck. The brunette half wondered where this was coming from, she had never felt so much passion course through her veins. The younger girl lowly moaned, finding much affection enchanting and powerful, tilting her head to give her more, much desired access.

"Objectus Simplistus, Lentus Shiftus" it was just a simple moving spell, but it had moved all Constances grips and hair items till her hair was loose in a cascading river flowing down her back, and soon as it was, Imogens fingers were tangled softly in the dark entrancing hair. A gentle sigh left her content lips at the miraculous feeling, bringing her lips heatedly down upon the girl, trapped rather willingly beneath body. Their lips collided fiercely as Constance poured as much passion to the girl, as she could. Imogen caught her lower lip between her teeth softly, eliciting a delicate moan from the brunette, as her tongue slid across the pale barriers.

/ Constance sat in the staff room, too late at night as hot, silent tears streamed burning paths down her cheeks. She didn't know if she ought to be happy or sad that her ex-lover was joining Cackles academy as she remembered that night many years ago.

She had been given a choice, let her go, or lose her forever.