Thank you for my first ever review! As promised next chapter up quickly, but there is a warning with this one. As the title suggests, this is not a fluffy chapter and there are concepts in the final paragraphs that are rather graphic. I didn't know whether to put this chapter in or make it a bit less shocking, but it makes the rest of the plotline make sense.
Thanks for reading
Chapter 7 – The death of dreams
The days dragged on unbearably slowly as Miss Hardbroom waited for Thursday to arrive. It seemed as though the students had sensed her happiness, though she was careful to keep up her normal demeanour during school hours, for they all seemed more badly behaved and less enthusiastic than ever before. As she marched into the staffroom, the other teachers felt the menacing vibe emanating from their colleague and watched her go over to make a cup of tea, not daring to utter a single word.
'Really!' she muttered to herself, trying to control the anger which was causing her blood to boil.
'What is it Miss Hardbroom?' Miss Bat asked bravely, her eyes flitting between Constance and the stationary cupboard.
'The third years handed their homework in today, without one correct answer to the question I set and during the practical task three cauldrons blew up, four people were sent to the sickbay to be treated for minor burns and not one had managed to turn a frog invisible in an hour and a half! It is as though they are all trying to be incompetent,' she explained, her frustration clear in her tone. Having made the tea, she sat at the head of the table, as far away from the Miss Bat and Miss Drill as possible without being rude. Davina could have sworn a little steam was coming out of Miss Hardbroom's ears.
'I'm sure they didn't mean it,' started Miss Bat, but after Constance shot her a look that could have paralysed a butterfly mid-flight, she whimpered and grabbed a flower from the vase on the coffee table, storming into the stationary cupboard.
'Miss Hardbroom,' Miss Drill started.
'No, Miss Drill, for once it is not my fault that Davina has taken up residence in the cupboard. You cannot say that I attacked or even shouted at her this time.' Imogen decided against pursuing the matter, sensing that she would lose a fight against the deputy headmistress rather quickly and painfully. Leaving her tea untouched on the table, Miss Hardbroom rose from her seat and strode back out through the staffroom door and Miss Drill felt sorry for the girl bound to end up in her colleague's way.
Moments later, Miss Cackle came into the staffroom holding a small pink bag.
'Is something the matter with Constance?' she asked sitting across from Miss Drill and conjuring a plate for the cream cake which she removed from the bag.
'Does there need to be? Though I could swear her mood's been all over the place lately,' remarked Imogen pensively.
'One minute she gives a whole year detention and the next, she is complimenting the first years on their broomstick flying which I have to say is not the best,' added Miss Bat, opening the cupboard door a crack to be heard.
'Oh there is something different' said Miss Cackle knowingly, trying to stop a smile spreading across her face.
'You know something,' exclaimed Miss Bat, leaving the confines of the cupboard to join in the gossip.
'Oh alright I do,' replied Miss Cackle, on the verge of laughter, 'but I couldn't tell you if I wanted to; I shouldn't even know.'
'What did you find out?' enquired Imogen.
'Let's just say that Constance is not as inconspicuous as she thinks and a well-placed friend at a café sheds some very interesting light on the situation!' She wasn't proud of the fact that she had done some of her own investigation into the deputy's whereabouts when she claimed to be teaching elsewhere, but she did not appreciate being lied to. As soon as she had heard that Constance, of all people, was meeting with someone – a man nonetheless at a secret location, however, she had become more understanding. How could she ask Constance to give her the truth when she knew that her friend would not be comfortable with it herself? She had never been one for socialising at all let alone having relationships and she had been more than a little surprised at the revelation.
'Couldn't you even give us a hint?' wheedled Imogen, desperate to know.
'Normally I would, Imogen, but in this case I think it is better that nobody knows but I; for starters, I am not even supposed to know and I have a feeling that Constance would not be too happy if I shared it with the world.' Defeated, Imogen wished that for once Miss Hardbroom could be exposed as a real person, behind the perfect and impenetrable shell that she lived in. But one thing was for certain: Constance had a secret.
Thursday came as a blessing for Miss Hardbroom. The week had been the longest of her life and she wondered how she had coped at all. A glass of red wine or two always helped, but the fact was that she missed him. It pained her to admit that she could not go five minutes without thinking of him, but it was the truth. Retiring to her room at half past 8, she watched the clock tick slowly for the most difficult hour of her life before she started off under the cover of darkness. Not wanting to risk discovery, she disappeared from her room to re-emerge on the edge of the woods, avoiding the shameful walk from the castle which always made her feel guilty. The adrenalin, however, was taking over as she walked at a pace to Cosie's tearooms and her heart was beating like a drum in her chest. The night was silent and unfathomable, but Constance couldn't even stop as she usually would have done to check if anyone was around, as the thought that he was only moments away drove her onwards.
Arriving at the door, she stopped momentarily to catch her breath. The hills had tired her and she did not want to appear weak and flustered before William. Pushing open the doors, she gasped at the beauty which lay before her. One hundred candles at least lit the darkened room, with rose petals scattered across the floor. William had been pacing, waiting for her to arrive as she could tell next to a series of cushions laid out besides a meal and wine she could tell he had prepared himself. She wanted to cry, to hold him and run into his arms just to say how much she loved him; but no matter how hard she tried she could not bring herself to do this.
'William it's...'
'A bit rubbish, I know, but there wasn't much I could do with the space.'
'No, it's wonderful.' Her eyes met his and he knew that she meant it. They sat together at the centre of the room, his arm around her waist as they laughed and drank the night away, not a care in the world.
They laid back, Constance resting her head against William's chest and feeling every breath he took, thanking anyone who could listen that she was there with him.
'I'm going to tell Amelia,' she whispered and she felt him stir beneath her.
'Are you sure? I mean, you said...'
'I know what I said and, not for the first time it will surprise you to hear, I was wrong. I just don't know how to begin to tell her. I think she will understand why I was...economical with the truth, but as long as it doesn't affect my job why should I hide you?' Looking down at her, William knew that he loved her so much he couldn't bear to be apart from her. The lump in his pocket shifted uncomfortably as he wrapped both of his arms around her, his right hand untying the bun on the back of her head subconsciously. It was as though it was nudging him, encouraging him to ask the question that could change both of their lives forever.
'Oh!' Constance exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.
'What is it sweetheart?'
'I've just remembered something, oh Lord. I was supposed to set the fourth years a test tomorrow!'
'Can you not forget work for once? You don't need to be on duty 24/7,' William assured her, playing with a loose strand of her hair.
'Normally, I would say you were right,' she admitted sighing, 'but the fourth year exams are next week and they are bad enough at potions without their teacher forgetting to set them revision work. I am so sorry, I have to go.' She got to her feet and tied her hair back into its bun.
'Don't go,' he pleaded childishly, not sure if he could wait the extra two days to see her again.
'I really am sorry William. This was so beautiful; you won't ever know what it means to me.'
'Then promise me something,' he asked, taking her hands in his own.
'Promise me, you will come away with me during the half term break. We could go anywhere, do anything.'
'You know I can't promise that yet, but I promise you I will ask and try to make myself available.' Looking into her eyes he could tell that she was not lying to him.
'A whole week to ourselves,' William pictured and a smile spread across his face.
'Can I walk you back?' he asked, his protective nature not wanting to allow her to leave.
'I am perfectly capable of walking back myself; I have done it many times. Do you think I cannot protect myself?' she asked with a touch of humour colouring her tone.
'I am sure you can.' He smiled, taking her face in his hands and kissing her gently, wanting more than anything to take the ring from his pocket right there. No. It wasn't the right moment, not yet. He would just have to wait.
Leaving the cabin, Constance had never felt more alive. Her heart ached from having to leave William but she knew that she could persuade Amelia to give her time off; after all, she had never taken leave in her twenty years at Cackle's. Walking briskly through the trees, however, Constance got the uncomfortable feeling that someone was watching her. Cosie's was out of sight now, and she was alone at the heart of the woods. Fear was not a word which featured in Miss Hardbroom's vocabulary, but unease was something she had learnt not to take lightly. She stopped, listening for any movement. Dismissing her concerns, she continued forwards, but only managed a few paces before hearing the unmistakeable sound of footsteps. She was for any attacker, her spell-casting fingers poised and ready. She turned to examine her surroundings, wondering whether to call out and challenge the person skulking menacingly in the shadows.
After waiting a moment, she decided to transport herself back to the castle, but found she was unable to. She put it down to fatigue at first, but realised the something was not right. A cold, gloved hand grabbed violently at her wrist from behind, causing her to stumble and gasp with surprise. Spinning around, the masked man let her go and watched with a despicable grin as she tried to cast a spell to contain him. Her fingers channelled the magic, but it was blocked and doubled back into her system, giving Constance a shock of a pain so fierce it felt as though for a second her body was on fire. A magical block had weakened her but worse, it had rendered her defenceless. Although reasonably strong, she would not be able to fight the large man now heading towards her and momentary panic set in. He sent a bolt of energy at her, which hit her in the chest. She felt her heart skip a beat and searing pain envelope her body, but she had to stay standing to fight.
He grabbed her wrists again, the grip unbelievably strong. She beat at his chest pathetically to no effect, but distracting him long enough to kick him in the shins, catching him off balance. His grip too strong, they stumbled and he fell down the side of the leafy hill where they had been standing, dragging her along until her head hit a tree and they stopped. Dazed and confused, she tried to stand, but she could not co-ordinate herself. Suddenly, he was looming over her once more. She pushed herself up, trying to at least sit straight but he sent a spell at her which she had never seen. Constance felt the energy white and hot form a deep gash in the side of her cheek and she tried her best not to cry out. She tried again in vain to stand, but the man laughed as he sent another wave at her, this time cutting into her stomach. She could feel warm blood beginning to soak her tattered dress and wondered why. Why had she walked home? Why her and why now? But little did she know that the worst was yet to come. Groaning, she slumped against the tree until she felt her throat tighten: a silencing spell. Fear coursed through her veins and her slow heart as she looked into his eyes, black and lifeless as a predator's. He cast another enchantment, binding her arms harshly behind her back and he knelt down next to her, a disgusting grin forcing its way across his face.
What he did next was more than too horrible to describe. He forced himself onto her, his mouth against hers in a way that made her want to die and his hands moving uninvited across her body. The horror and realisation of what was happening struck her all too late and she just wanted the release of death to take her. He ripped her dress and chuckled as he took away the pride and dignity Constance Hardbroom lived for, that made her who she was. He took pleasure in the fact that she closed her eyes in shame and that if he sent the energy he could conjure without a second's though through her body, she writhed and tried to scream in pain, though the words would never come. As dawn began to break, he rose from the ground, removing her bindings with the flick of his wrist. She was awake, he could tell by her breathing, and he was astounded that she had lasted this long without breaking into tears or falling into a blissful unconsciousness. As he leaned back close, she opened her eyes so that he could see she had not beaten her and felt a jolt of fresh pain as he took her arm in his and twisted, the bones snapping under his power. She wouldn't allow tears to form in her eyes as she knew that would give him more satisfaction. She could barely make out his face as he straightened to his full height; his features were hazy as his face swam before her eyes. Deciding that it was not wise to leave her there conscious until he was safely gone, the man raised both of his hands, magic building up at his fingertips, and he conjured a ball of energy which cracked and fizzled before him. A smirk, as he saw her eyes widen, and sent the raging ball straight at the fallen woman before him. She convulsed for almost a minute before letting the energy take her over, engulfing her and putting her painfully into a dreamless sleep. Knowing his job was done, the man disappeared and left Constance battered and alone as day broke above her.
