AN: Thanks for the reviews and support :) Super special thanks go to DissectingPomegranates for playing idea ping-pong and to NCD :) This is the last week I have to work solidly on my writing *sobs* because its back to study. I'm not sure how this chapter turned out but hope its okay. As always please enjoy.

Chapter 4

Internal Turmoil

The day that had started so well and looked so bright, dimmed when Miss Hardbroom placed Mildred's test result on the table. She had her eyes closed at the time, not daring to look down and see what red mark she had cursed her with for this terms results, but she needed to see it all the same. Opening her eyes slowly she saw the red C, circled in the top corner with the word 'disappointing' written below. Of all the words she could have used to describe her test she had to choose 'disappointing'. There was only one thing that used to make her worry when she was a child and had done something wrong and it wasn't the punishment at the end of the act but her parents distant gazes as they said they were very disappointed in her. And it was here too, in red and white.

"How did you go?" Maud asked, leaning to her friend's right and peering at the mark. A C wasn't the worst mark the labelled worst witch had received in her two short years at the academy but it wasn't the best either. The bell rang as Miss Hardbroom shouted reminders about the homework she had assigned them and the girls all shuffled through the door.

Mildred held her paper in her hand as she walked sluggishly into the corridor with her bag over her shoulder. "I told you I'd fail."

"You didn't fail," Maud replied. "You passed; a C is still a pass. It could have been worse." She was trying to be encouraging, to bring a smile to her friend's dejected and disappointed face, but it was shut down the moment Ethel walked towards them and opened her mouth.

"Not by much," she scoffed, happily flashing her A like it was a police badge and standing with Drusilla beside her. "With results like that it's obvious who Miss Hardbroom will choose to be the Fire Bearer at the Festival. And it won't be you."

"It will be someone capable like Ethel," Drusilla returned, like a trained dog that's sole purpose was to protect its owner.

"After all," the insufferable Hallow continued as Enid passed behind, pausing for just a moment, long enough to make eye contact with Maud and Mildred, before leaving. Both girls had expected her to say something to back them up, some witty remark to end the conversation and tell the two biggest irritations in Mildred's life to take a hike. But she didn't and now Mildred was the one who felt disappointed, in more than just herself.

"You know it's not all about grades," Maud defied. "It's about having the right attitude and your little argument with Enid didn't show that, did it?"

"Don't act like I attacked her, she was the one who started it," she smiled. "And I am sure that this will make up for it." The papers came so close to Mildred's face she was afraid that she'd go blind and quickly she took a hold of her nemesis' hand and pushed it away from her.

"Ouch," Ethel shrieked, overdramatically as the trademark sound of high heel boots echoed behind Mildred's head. "Miss Hardbroom," she cried, holding her wrist as Mildred rolled her eyes. "Did you see what just happened?"

"Yes…" she answered curtly and noticed how Mildred's back muscles involuntarily tensed in preparation for another verbal lashing from her potion mistress, "if you mean your far from humble approach to receiving a high achievement and parading it about in another students face?" Ethel's mouth dropped while Mildred's curled into a smile.

"The only thing worse than arrogance, Miss Hallow, is self glorification and spinning the truth." It felt a little odd for the deputy headmistress. She reprimanded students so easily for lying when she did the very same thing every day of her life, whether it was a little white lie of 'I'm fine' to appease Miss Cackle's worried eyes or withholding her past to protect others. But her purposes were never to harm another being. She wanted to protect them from the darkest corners of her past and to save herself from having to relieve those memories through the pity and sorrow written in the eyes of whoever learnt the truth. "Mildred's reaction, in my opinion, is entirely understandable."

The girls had remained silent and the slow thud as the back of her skull flared up once again and she tried to will it away by closing her eyes for a moment. Ethel noticed it instantly, after all, Constance Hardbroom didn't show weakness, she didn't faulter, her gaze never deterred from its target. "To your room, Ethel…now," she commanded, opening her eyes as she did so and the girl left without another word.

Ethel slammed the door to her room before sitting on the bed with a scowl. She hated solitary confinement and being locked up inside while Mildred Hubble was still prowling the corridors. She hated that girl with every fibre of her being. It didn't seem to matter how many times she had tried to get her expelled, to get her into trouble, it had always backfired in one way or another. She wanted her gone and if Hubble Bubble had been right and she was no longer in the running for the Flame Bearer's honour then there was no way in hell that she was going to let Mildred get the opportunity.

She was sure that Miss Hardbroom would never allow it, but with Miss Cackle making the final decision and her usual kind nature towards her hopeless nemesis she couldn't be sure. The latch on her door lifted as the door swung open. "I hate that Hubble," she sneered her hands balled into fists.

"But there's nothing we can do about it," Drusilla reasoned, understanding that Miss Hardbroom's comments would have cut deep. After all no one really knew just how hard she had worked, how much she studied, the kind of expectations that were placed on her shoulders in order to keep the Hallow name written in gold. She had to achieve the best, be the best, and destroy anyone who got in her path but Mildred had no expectations. She was from a non-witch background, no lineage, no one who went before her to live up to. Enid's comments about the Hallow name being a free ticket for fortune and prosperity was only just the start, but the combination of the warmer weather, Miss Hardbroom's observations, her confinement and Mildred's ability to escape from her grasp once again had all driven her into a state Drusilla had never seen before. "We've tried to get her kicked out before and it didn't work."

"It will this time," Ethel turned, standing to her feet.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Something to deal with Hubble and her silly little blockade, Maud. We'll take out two birds with one stone."

"But-how?" Drusilla questioned. "You've been confined to your room."

"Exactly, that's why I need your help," she smirked, her plan spiralling out of control and mind ablaze with endless possibilities. She could already see Mildred being kicked out of Walkers Gate and into the dust. She sauntered over to her night table and opened a book, retrieving something from within the cover. "Come and see me after HB does her rounds tonight, I have a plan, and memorise this." Drusilla took the folded paper in her hands before unfolding it and reading the contents. "But why do I need this?"

"You have so little faith, Drusilla."

"What if I get in trouble," she debated. "I'll lose my chance to be the Flame Bearer if I get caught." Ethel shook her head, walking away and taking a seat on the creaky old bed once more, staring at the wooden floor below. "Drusilla forget that stupid festival thing, it's only going to happen once and this is bigger than that. If we do this right no more Hubble for good."

Her red headed friend read over the paper again, two more times after that mouthing the words quietly to herself before looking back at Ethel and nodding her head.

Constance rounded the corner with her third year homework essays in hand, heading to the staffroom to begin the task of marking them through her lunch break before teaching the fourth years later that afternoon. The decision of Flame Bearer was due at the end of the week and she was happy to see that the students, although not exactly excited about the extra homework assignments, hadn't complained as much as they usually did. The prospect of being the leader for one nights worth of ceremony was highly strived for by all and Miss Hardbroom decided to use the opportunity to her advantage. If a student wanted her vote she'd have to work for it.

Reaching for the staffroom handle her right hand uncharacteristically shook as a chill, as cold as ice water, dripped down her spine, making her drop the essays to the floor as she steadied herself against the door. Closing her eyes when the pain in her skull intensified.

"Constance," Miss Cackle sighed, moving to her aid. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she replied as the sudden surge eased to a dull roar. Bending down she picked up Fenella Feverfew's handwritten essay before Amelia picked another from the stone below. "You're not fine," she noted and the potion mistress remained silent, before straightening the pile and standing to her feet again. She placed her hand on the door only for Amelia to stop her.

"Tell me, what's going on?" Her eyes begged for an answer that she just couldn't give and for something that she herself had never fully understood. Her usual sixth sense had only activated itself whenever danger was imminent, it had allowed her the ability to identify the moment the girls were stepping out of line in order to stop their shenanigans. But now it was becoming a hindrance, flaring up in times of normality rather than stress. "Constance."

"I have marking-"

"I don't care," Amelia snapped, making Constance's eyes widen in surprise slightly. "Whatever you're marking can wait, something isn't right and I want to know what it is." Constance bit on her back teeth before parting her lips when a scream echoed from beyond the door. Miss Cackle pushed it open to see Davina hugging something with glee.

"What on earth-"

"It's the torch for the festival," Imogen interrupted, joining Constance's eye roll. After all it was just a long silver horn covered in ancient inscriptions that Imogen couldn't even begin to decipher. It wasn't something luxurious or gold, or something worth so much affection.

"It's beautiful! Perfect! Oh I can't wait until she's lit and sailing through the night."

"Yes," Constance spun on her heel and exited the room as quickly as her feet could carry her, robbing Amelia time to react to her sudden departure. She watched her deputy disappear down the corridor longingly before closing the door. "Something wrong, Amelia?" Imogen asked as the Headmistress took a seat inside a nearby chair and used a fan to cool her face, her eyes distantly looking to the hot water urn, remembering her colleague's peculiar behaviour. She had known Constance longer than she could remember and day after day, year after year, she had always been defensive, perfect, straight backed and seemingly unstoppable. Everything she said or did had purpose, nothing was out of place, but these little attention deficits that Amelia had seen firsthand all screamed for help. And she was going to give it, whether Constance wanted it or not.

Imogen's head tilted to her left inquisitively. "Amelia?"

"What?"

"Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," she sighed, getting to her feet and walking out the staffroom door, scolding herself for using the exact same word that she had reprimanded Constance for just moments ago.

Drusilla kept her eyes closed as the door swung open and the familiar glow of Miss Hardbroom's lantern illuminated her face. She remained asleep, breathing regularly, hoping to fool the deputy who closed the door and started down the walk way, her boots clicking as she went. Carefully flinging off her sheets she took the piece of paper into her hands and read it over another three times, checking that she had the pronunciation correct before carefully exiting her room and walking through the dark corridor to Ethel's room and opening the door.

"Have you memorised it?" Ethel asked and she nodded before the paper was snatched from her hand. "What are you going to do with it?"

"We'll need it later," she explained simply. "Now, listen carefully."