OK, now I am fully aware of the more than 2 month delay hanging over this story and for that I apologise greatly, in every way and with edible treats! After the summer ended, work started and my other fic screamed for my attention this story did get a little lost in the mix but I would never ever abandon something halfway through so fear not! It may be years in the making but this story will achieve another chapter! And then another etc. until there is some sort of ending :)

Thanks to everyone who reads, and if you get a bit lost then I advise reading the last few chapters if you have time as I had to! If you will all bear with me, this fic does have further to go and I will get there (promise :) ) even if it takes a while. Not sure when the next chapter will be up, as this one took a while to ponder though only 2 days to write, but it will be up at some point.

Thank you for bearing with me and I hope you enjoy this chapter! The body of it is exactly 8000 words which is today's triumph :) Big thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far and I would really love to know what you think as this chapter has been a refreshing pleasure to write but I am not sure how it turned out.

Enjoy and happy reading!


Chapter 7

'Adelina,' the woman said brightly, beaming at Constance, 'Adelina Hardbroom.'

The world, to Constance, had always seemed unjust. It was not just the selfish desires of a woman whose life had suffered much misery, but the wise observation of someone who could see the world for what it really was. More often than not, good people who had given nothing but kindness and love in their lives were cursed with death, illness or bereavement whilst the soulless shadows of what humans are truly capable of lived without a care in the world.

No-one knew everything. There wasn't a person on the planet who could answer every question, who could solve every problem and put the minds of those scared of what they didn't know at ease. Some things were not meant to be known. They were secrets better left unsaid, for the damage and heartbreak they would induce would cause nothing short of a catastrophe. To open Pandora's Box was to unleash a world of evils with only the hope of gaining something better; a gamble most thought was not worth the risk.

The secrets that Constance had buried in her distant past had haunted her every day for more than twenty years. The guilt that she had harboured since she was 15, perhaps even before then, had lived with her and been a part of her life; with every beat of her heart, with every breath she took, she was reminded of why she was still living when her sister could not. There had been days when the slightest thing had reminded her of what she had lost, days when she had found it nearly impossible to control a grief which had never found closure. Those were the times when Constance had wished, almost begged, that it had been her life taken instead of Adelina's but to no avail.

Yet somehow, she was there. She was there beyond a shadow of a doubt, living and breathing and smiling such an impossible smile. Adelina was quite tall though still fell short of Constance by a few inches, her frame slender with a dark coat not quite covering a white blouse and striking electric blue skirt. Her eyes were the same deep brown as hers, the sparkle the same as Constance could remember from what was now a lifetime ago, and her rich brown hair sat in playfully tangled curls bobbing up and down on her shoulders. Her face, with the perfect complexion and high cheek bones, shone in the light of the candles illuminating the room; for a dead woman, she seemed extremely well.

As much as her eyes told her that it was really Adelina, with the same eyes and same hair of the face which had rested in her lap as the sun rose a hundred times, her mind couldn't believe it. For twenty years, Constance had accepted that her younger sister had died, that she had taken her own life on a whimsical impulse originating in desperation and anger she couldn't control. Even if she had never quite managed to come to terms with Adelina's death, the part that she played and the reasons for it, what had allowed her to get through every waking hour was the belief that there was nothing more to be done. She was gone, and there had been nothing she could do about it.

Now everything had changed.

Xxx

Her foggy mind was cast back into a memory she had dreamt about a hundred times. It was a cold winter's morning, the first flakes of December snow beginning to fall from a sky of the purest white to grace the land with its frosted touch. Constance had dressed in one of her typical black dresses, a gown of silk which flowed like water across her thin and fragile frame.

She had never been of a particularly curvy stature, but after four months at Witch Training College she couldn't deny that it had taken its toll on her physique. Looking at herself in the mirror, her hair loose across her shoulders as was the custom for a witch's funeral and her posture as straight-laced as it was possible to be, Constance couldn't help but despise what she saw.

Not more than 8 months ago, she had been sat on the low branch of a vast oak tree with a book in her lap and her hair free to be tangled in the wind. She had watched Adelina running through the cornfields, chasing happily after a butterfly which seemed to be humouring her by dancing just an inch from her reach. Her laughter had been so powerful, so bright and full of energy that it could have lit a darkened sky.

They had seemed like the only two people in the world. The vast surrounding countryside was enough to separate them from everyone else, from the problems that the rest of the world was troubled with, so that it was just them in their little bubble of seclusion. They didn't need anyone else but each other, though little had they known that everything would soon change.

It had been that very afternoon, with the sun beating down on the golden corn as her little sister had played, blissfully ignorant to what was going on around her, when Constance had received the news that would change her life. A letter appeared from nowhere, hovering just beside her head until she plucked it from the air and read it. The letters, written in perfect calligraphy, seemed to be no more than a blur on the page. Constance knew what they meant. She had been accepted into the Witch Training College to be tutored under Hecketty Broomhead, an honour many would have jumped at the chance to receive; but she knew too much to know that this was anything but a curse.

Folding the letter away, she watched Adelina for a few more minutes. Constance had made her choice. It had been the only choice she could make, something her father had begged her to reconsider though his efforts were in vain. She wished at that moment more than anything that she could feel his gentle touch once more, a reassuring hand on her shoulder that she needed now more than ever; it was a comfort she would never know again.

Now she had to tell her sister, someone who depended on her for almost everything, that she would have to leave. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do.

Biting back tears, Constance brushed the memory from her mind and forced herself to look into the mirror once more. She was surprised at how much she loathed her own image, despising the person that she had become since she had left her sister four months previously. Constance had always been a reserved and stoic person, yet something about Adelina had brought out part of her that would otherwise have stayed dormant. Yes, she had to be like a mother figure towards her younger sibling, but she had also allowed herself, every once in a while, to be engulfed by the wonderous creativity of childhood. That part of her had died with Adelina, and now she dreaded to think what she would become.

Walking across the still graveyard, the only sound was the unrelenting crunch of thickening snow beneath her boots. Constance could see her mother leaning on a friend with a handkerchief covering her face; she barely even acknowledged the arrival of her other daughter. The gathering was few, but the degree of sadness which emanated from every person stood in the cold that day was overwhelming. Constance didn't cry. She couldn't. It was too heartbreaking to believe, her mind unable even now to register the fact that she had become an only child. She had lost her father, the one person who had bothered to understand her, and now the sister with whom she had always shared such a tight bond. It was like losing part of herself.

As the snow continued to fall across the dull grey headstone, the crowd began to disperse until only Constance was left. The silence was golden, a perfect chance to reflect on what the future would hold. The grave was empty as no body had ever been recovered, but the headstone would always stand in her memory in a spot on the gentle hill overlooking the wildflowers which were now dusted with white powder. Before she left, leaving that part of her life behind forever though never ever forgetting it, Constance waved her right hand in the air to conjure a single perfect rose. This rose stood out blood red against the virgin white of the snow and rested against the stone, its perfect petals wavering slightly in the gentle breeze. It was a rose of everlasting life, one which would never wither or die; a final goodbye.

Xxx

In what couldn't have been more than a second, Constance felt these memories rushing back to her and flooding her already saturated mind with images of an unforgettable past. Staring at Adelina, her mouth slightly open in shock, words failed her.

'Not really much of a welcome I have to say,' Adelina jested cheerfully, 'but I can imagine that my presence may come as...somewhat of a surprise.' She reached across the table to her small black satchel and pulled out two thin brown files which she held in her arms.

'I got a job quite a while ago at the Guild, and when they mentioned sending someone here...well I couldn't resist. I had to see you again Connie.'

'Don't,' Constance croaked, 'don't call me that.'

'Why not? You never minded when you were younger,' laughed Adelina.

'That was then,' Constance said simply. It wasn't just that it was a nickname from her youth, not even that it was an embarrassment before her colleagues. No, it was more the fact that the girl that had called her Connie before she had known and trusted with her life. Truth be told, she didn't know a thing about the woman standing before her.

'Anyway Miss Cackle,' Adelina addressed the headmistress with a quick and flashing smile, 'these files will need to be filled out and signed in as soon as possible. The Guild is re-evaluating the schools GAS, or Guild Approved Status, due to the fact that an excess of unusual magical energy has been detected in the castle. An evaluation will be needed to ascertain the safety of the school as well as the usual standard of teaching and progress.'

'Magical energy?' Miss Cackle inquired, looking puzzled. 'Could that be anything to do with this unusual weather? It is rather uncustomary for this time of year and has been rather unpredictable to say the least.'

'Anything is possible,' explained Adelina, 'but I'm just here as the messenger.' She turned from the headmistress back to Constance, who despite herself had turned a deadly shade of white.

'I think we need to talk,' she said seriously. Constance shook her head with the attitude of a stubborn child.

'Not now.'

'But Conn-'

'Perhaps it would be best,' Miss Cackle interjected quickly, 'if Miss Bat and Miss Drill take you on a tour of the school. I'm sure you'd like to see the place, given that you will probably be taking an active role in overseeing the evaluation.' Adelina nodded with an expression of understanding and walked up to her sister until they were mere inches apart

'It's good to see you Con,' she whispered, 'I'll explain everything, I promise.' With that she left, hanging her coat on a hook as she departed and disappearing beyond the door of the staffroom with the two other teachers. Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom were left alone.

'Constance...' Miss Cackle started, but she didn't know how to continue. There was not protocol in this sort of situation, no right thing to say in comfort or reassurance. Her heart and mind were being pulled in different directions. Her heart wanted to comfort a woman who she knew would be confused and in pain, with grief and emotion resurfacing from decades past and everything she had known to be true being called into question.

Yet her mind knew that Constance would not be mollycoddled, would never accept a kind embrace no matter how much she needed it. Amelia's eyes filled with tears which she had to hold back as she realised that she could feel the lost little girl within Constance Hardbroom crying, begging for someone to care of her and tell her that everything would be all right; but it was only herself that stood, blocking her own path through pride.

Amelia cleared her throat quietly.

'Constance are you all right?'

In truth the question was ridiculous, and would only incur the pantomime of deceit which played out every time the headmistress asked such a thing. Both women knew what Constance was going to say before she did.

'Fine, headmistress. I'm fine,' Constance replied. Of course it was a lie, but unlike her usual dishonesty this lie had no substance. The tone of her voice as the words escaped her lips was unquestionably sad, something Amelia had never heard in her tone before in such a way. It was as if she hadn't the energy to lie convincingly, repeating the words she was expected to say out of duty; but duty to whom? To herself? Or the headmistress? In all honesty Constance was lost, unsure of anything anymore and not quite able to adjust to the new world which seemed to have just formed around her.

The headmistress wanted to say the right thing, to offer some form of help to the younger woman who was so obviously suffering, but her thoughts were blocked by questions that only Constance, or Adelina, could answer.

'But how,' she started in a puzzled voice, 'how can she be here? I mean, you said-'

'I know what I said,' Constance interrupted. Amelia had expected her to snap, but was saddened further to hear that the usually so commanding voice sounded no more than tired.

Constance tried to think clearly, but the image of her sister's face as she had walked into the staffroom moments ago seemed to haunt her like a ghost roaming freely in her mind. Her life had been turned upside down in a matter of seconds and now she had nowhere to turn. Despite every question she had, every emotion which was coursing through her veins at a hundred miles an hour, only one thing seemed to be clear to her.

She wanted to be angry, to shout and scream at the lies and injustice which had plagued the better part of her life. She wanted to be relieved that the sister she had thought dead was back, was alive and well; she even wanted to be happy about it. But her entire body just felt empty. Adelina had tried at least, if not succeeded, to kill herself because of her. She had jumped with the knowledge that her sister had abandoned her, that she had nothing left to live for because of that; it was all because of her.

But Adelina had lived. Something had told her that when she had failed to extinguish her life's flame, there was something worth living for; and she had hated Constance too much even to tell her that she was alive. She had allowed her family to bury her, whilst living out her life in secret and taken her own path swathed in shadow and mystery. Constance had every right to be angry; Adelina had been selfish, allowing her own flesh and blood to think that she had died and never trying to find her until now.

Yet all she could feel was the overwhelming sensation that, somehow, it was all her fault; and she could swear that, despite whatever illness that was trying its best to do so, it was this that would kill her.

In the seconds that she tried to gather her thoughts, Constance felt the pain which cursed her temple return to her. It was sharp, stabbing and radiating throughout her skull with such force that her eyes were forced to flinch and give away what she wanted nobody else to know. Feeling the colour drain from her face, she raised a hand to her head and touched her throbbing temple gently. Even with the power of the spell she had cast over herself, one which forced her body to ignore the pain and carry on normally so that no-one else would suspect a thing, there was something about that sharp agony which forced her to react.

'Constance?' Amelia said gently. 'Constance are you-'

'Yes, yes I'm fine! For goodness sake, there are for more important things happening here than a headache,' she snapped with the defensive venom she always released when she was hiding that she was in trouble. Moving swiftly and confidently so as not to admit defeat, she sat at her usual place at the dining table and was less than surprised when Miss Cackle joined her.

'Look,' Constance conceded after a time of uncomfortable silence, 'I don't know what happened. I don't know how she can be here; all I know is that she is. They never...they never found a body, so I assume that she just allowed herself to disappear until she felt the time was right.' She didn't realise how hard it was to talk about it now, the time when she had lost everything in a matter of months; it still turned her stomach even now that she knew it had all been a lie.

'Why do you think she came back now?' asked Amelia. 'I mean...can you trust her?'

'She was always trustworthy,' Constance replied, not quite answering the question. She wanted to trust Adelina, but there seemed to be an invisible barrier compromising that trust. The simple answer was that she had waited all this time to return; anything could have happened in the years that she had been away. Or perhaps it was that sparkle in her eye. It was something she knew from childhood, but now it seemed changed. If the eyes were the gateway to the soul, were Adelina's the passage to the truth?

Constance felt something running down her face, something which stemmed from her nose. Reaching a finger of the hand which had been massaging her temple, she wiped the area above her upper lip and looked down to see glistening red blood shining back at her. It looked too dark with too much of a shine to be the blood of a simple nosebleed and she was not ignorant enough to think it was.

'Constance?' Looking up at the headmistress, Constance felt far too tired to explain.

'What's wrong?'

It was then that she realised that Miss Cackle couldn't see the blood now gently flowing across her face and she let a sigh of relief pass briefly across her lips.

'Nothing,' she said hurriedly, stumbling a little as she stood up, 'I have to go.'

'What are you going to do about Adelina?' inquired Amelia with a look of the deepest concern.

'Listen,' answered Constance wisely, with a stare which seemed too vacant, 'and hope that she can forgive me.'

Folding her arms across her chest, she disappeared from view and Amelia was left with a very familiar feeling that something was wrong, very wrong; something that she couldn't see yet was there all the same. She wondered what secrets her deputy was hiding behind that blank expression.

Xxx

Constance appeared in her room and let out a deep, long breath. She was aware that Amelia had sensed something, and knew that it wouldn't take her long to work out what was going on. The spell which concealed the truth of her plight was powerful and effective, but witches could often quickly grasp a concealment spell if they suspected one to be in place. It was like a sixth sense magical people possessed, the ability not only to use magic but to sense it. Until then, the headmistress had no reason to suspect a thing so would not even have guessed that such a spell could be being used, but now it was only a matter of time.

As lightning flashed outside, Constance caught a glimmer of something shimmering on her desk. Even the few steps across the room sent shooting pains down her tender spine, but she bit her lip to stop herself from moaning; now wasn't the time for useless displays of weakness. Reaching out she felt the cold metal of the locket against her fingertips and lifted it, entwining the gold chain around her fingers.

The meagre light from the window shone and reflected off the gold casing, the letters AH staring cruelly at her, mocking her. She wondered what it meant, the object itself, but feared most of all that it had been sent by someone who knew far more than she did about her own life and wanted to make her feel as if she was no longer in control. She rested the golden heart in the palm of her hand and felt its warmth spreading through her fingers. Constance placed the object down on the desk and thought for a moment about what it represented, a gift meant for love which had brought her such sadness.

After a while and forcing her aching limbs to move, Constance half staggered into the bathroom where she caught sight of her face in the mirror. As the one who had cast the spell, she could see her real image reflected in the truthful glass and was appalled by what she saw. Her eyes were dark, set deep in skin too pale pulled tightly across her bones. Her nose was bloody, the deep red liquid still trickling across her cracked lips and down her hollow cheeks.

She splashed water on her face, the almost icy coolness of it shocking and refreshing. Using a towel she cleaned her face, watching the pale red water swirl like a whirlpool in the marble basin and disappear down the plughole. As she straightened, she was forced to confront her own image once more. She needed to see.

With a wave of her hand, the basin vanished and the mirror extended until it reached the floor and showed her entire body as it was. Constance flexed her fingers once more and the jet black dress fell gracefully to the floor; it had barely been able to keep clinging to what seemed to be no more than bones. Allowing her hair to be free of its taught braided bun, Constance saw the sight of a broken woman.

It was all wrong. Hugging her elbows, Constance found her body almost shivering with disgust. Her arms and legs were no more than twigs which looked set to snap, her stomach concave where she hadn't eaten in almost two weeks. It couldn't be her, it just couldn't be. She looked old, her face that of a woman far passed her prime and entering the last stage before a lonely death, her body more frail and pathetic than it was possible to be. She should have been dead. That much she had worked out a long time ago. The only thing keeping her going was potions, a concoction of different brews which she took when she was sure that she couldn't carry on anymore.

The mirror shattered. Millions of glass fragments flew across the room, covering the floor in a sea of jagged diamonds as a solitary tear escaped from the corner of Constance's eye. She waved her hand once more and the basin was back, though the smaller mirror was not replaced on the wall. A sudden overwhelming sense of nausea overcame her and she ran across the broken glass to the sink, bending over and retching until her stomach expelled its contents across the white marble. She was surprised that anything would come, but for ten unthinkably long minutes she choked until her throat burned. She saw flecks of blood splash every now and again, but her eyes were mostly closed as tears escaped and flowed down her cheeks, falling helplessly to the floor. She couldn't help it. Her life had spiralled out of her control and all she could do was watch.

Xxx

Miss Cackle took the steaming mug of coffee into her freezing hands and passed it over to Adelina, who was now sitting in a chair close to the fire. She accepted it gratefully, blowing lightly on the steaming liquid before she took a sip. Amelia couldn't fault her positive pleasant demeanour, nor the way she seemed to instantly get on with both of the other teachers; yet something still didn't sit right. It was probably part of her nature, the instinct within her which wanted to protect Constance and saw Adelina only as a source of her deputy's pain. She couldn't trust Adelina.

'I didn't even know that Constance had a sister,' Miss Bat said as she sat down opposite the younger Hardbroom.

'No,' Adelina admitted sheepishly,' it's a very long story, but she didn't quite know that she still had one until today.'

'Oh,' whispered Davina, seeing at once a delicate matter which although she didn't understand, she knew she should not press into further. Not just yet anyway.

'I'm sure she will come around eventually,' Miss Drill interjected from where she stood beside Miss Cackle, 'she always does. She's always been...rather stubborn.' Adelina let a smile pass across her face, one which burned brightly in the fire's light.

'Yes I suppose she has,' she agreed, the smile still dancing in her eyes.

Curiosity got the better of Davina more quickly than she had anticipated it to. She felt that she had to ask the question at the back of all of their minds.

'What was she like?' she asked eagerly

'What do you mean?' replied Adelina gently.

'Really Davi-' Miss Cackle tried, but Miss Bat beat her to it.

'When she was little I mean, what was Constance like?' Adelina couldn't help but laugh, the sound fresh and intoxicating, almost infectious.

'I am sorry Adelina,' Amelia apologised on behalf of Miss Bat whose cheeks were flushing red with embarrassment and her eyes darted towards her cupboard.

'Oh it's fine, I don't mind,' chuckled Adelina. 'Well, she always wore black. I never really knew why, but all I can ever remember her wearing is black dresses. She was always working whenever she had the time. I think that she thought I didn't know, but late at night after I had gone to bed she would sit at her desk reading until all hours of the morning.'

'She was very patient. I wasn't the easiest of sisters to cope with; I had a horrible temper, but she always waited for me to calm down and read to me until I went to sleep. I suppose she was like a mother to me rather than a sister. She did everything for me, even if I didn't want her to and I made her life quite difficult. I think that's what I regret the most.' She finished her monologue in a wistful tone, lost in thought rather than in sadness and a small smile still lingering across her mouth.

'Very touching,' came a cool, unimpressed voice which seemed to ring from nowhere. Adelina jumped as Constance appeared before her with her arms folded and wearing that velvet black dress she had missed most of all in the years that she had been away.

'Constance,' Miss Cackle said in way of a greeting, 'would you like some coffee?'

'No thank you headmistress,' she replied quickly. Adelina opened her mouth as if to say something to her sister, but she was stopped just by Constance's unyielding glare.

'Not here,' Constance cut her off curtly. Adelina closed her mouth and rose from the chair, though before she could ask where they were going they had both vanished into nothingness.

'I can't ever imagine Constance being like that,' Imogen announced as she moved over to where Adelina had been sitting.

'Like what?' asked Amelia vaguely, though her mind was clearly elsewhere.

'Nice,' replied Imogen simply, stirring her tea as she settled by the warmth of the fire.

Xxx

Constance and Adelina appeared as if from nowhere in the cold and dripping dungeons, the floor still wet from where the storm water had found its way into the castle. Unused to travelling in this way, Adelina stumbled back a few steps and had to steady herself, watching in amazement as Constance remained in a perfect upright position as if it had been the most natural thing in the world. She couldn't know that within her own mind, waves of sickening dizziness were threatening to compromise Constance's ever stoic demeanour.

'Gracious Con, do you do that all the time? I'm surprised that everyone isn't terrified of you,' she said half jokingly, trying to catch her breath. Constance simply continued to stare at her, offering no reply and not even a flicker of emotion. Adelina sighed. She had been building up to this moment for months, years even, and she had never been able to think of quite the right words.

'I'm sorry,' Adelina whispered, her bottom lip quivering slightly as it always had done before she cried when she was a little girl.

'I shouldn't have...I didn't...I'm so sorry Connie.'

'Don't call me that,' insisted Constance with a monotonous tone which offered no sense of forgiveness. Adelina was at a loss. She didn't know how to react to a woman who gave her nothing, no hint of emotion even though she knew this had to be as hard, if not more so, for her sister as it was for her.

'What do you want me to say?' she begged, her voice starting to crack with emotion. 'I wasn't thinking straight, I shouldn't have left and I'm sorry. What more do you want from me?'

'I want nothing from you,' Constance replied dryly. Adelina let out a long frustrated sigh and ran her fingers through her thick brown hair.

'I wasn't in a very good place back then,' Adelina explained almost desperately, 'I wasn't well. You left for Witch Training College and...and I couldn't handle it.'

'So you tried to kill yourself,' Constance continued. Her voice held such power. It passed no judgement, held no emotion and that was the most painful thing for Adelina to hear. Constance was wise; she knew how to allow Adelina to tell her what she needed to know without asking, gaining the upper hand by saying next to nothing.

'I didn't know what else to do! I thought it would be better if I just...disappeared.'

Constance's blank, expressionless face turned in an instant to one of rage.

'You thought that it would be better,' she repeated, as if it was too beyond belief to be true, 'if you just disappeared?'

'Y-Yes,' Adelina replied, her voice shaking slightly. She felt like a pupil again, with Constance as her teacher disciplining her for her mistakes.

'You planned it. You never meant to kill yourself, you just wanted to run away and if everyone thought you were dead...'

'Then they wouldn't look for me,' Adelina confirmed, nodding sadly. Constance turned away from her sister with a hand to her mouth in disbelief. Realising that her fingers were beginning to tremble, she curled her hand into a fist and rested her chin upon it.

'I'm sorry, I really am. I never meant to hurt you-' Constance scoffed audibly, moving across to the bench where she sat looking down at the table's wooden surface.

'You never meant to hurt me,' Constance said quietly, 'but you allowed me to bury you, or at least your memory. I went to your funeral Adelina; I laid roses on your grave every Christmas because that was your favourite time of year. What did I ever do to you that was so awful that you wanted to forget me completely?'

'Nothing,' Adelina assured her, tears flowing freely down her pink cheeks, 'I told you, I wasn't well. You had left and there was nothing for me at home; I didn't know what to do. I thought that if I left and made it look like I...well then you could all get on with your lives and I could find my own way. I'd tried to jump before, that night when I found out you were leaving, so I thought it would be more believable that way.'

'Mother died thinking she'd lost a daughter,' Constance thought aloud, remembering the third funeral of that awful 18 months. She had lost everything, her entire family in the blink of an eye, and was left in the care of a witch who laughed when she dared to let a tear slip down her face.

'I know,' admitted Adelina sadly, 'but I was still young, young and naive, and I wasn't ready to face the world quite yet.'

'Where did you go? You were twelve years old with no other family and no money,' Constance asked.

'I just wandered for quite a bit, finding shelter wherever I could. After a few months, I ended up in hospital with a broken leg and I had an outburst. With everything that was going on, I couldn't control myself and I ended up in a specialist witch's psychiatric unit. They were some of the hardest days of my life, but I got through it.'

'When I was 16 they found me a job as a secretary at the Witch's Guild, and I got somewhere to live. From then on I had a pretty ordinary life, though I had to change my name of course. You were more famous in the Guild than Amanda Honeydew or any of the celebrity witches; your name was everywhere. I can't count how many letters asking you to join the Guild I must have processed in my time, or how many articles were written about the academy; that's how I found you in the end.'

'Why now?' It had been the only real question on Constance's mind. 'After all this time, after 20 years of thinking my sister had died, why did you come back?'

'I've been trying to build up the courage for so long. I have nearly flown down here so many times; I even made it halfway to the front gates once. I just didn't think I could face you after what I did, and I wanted to make sure I was well enough before I saw you. It hasn't been easy...'

'No,' Constance said with a note of finality, 'no it hasn't. It hasn't been easy with the guilt of thinking you caused your sister to kill herself weighing on your shoulders, wondering how old she would have been every time her birthday came around and wishing that it could have been me...I don't know why you decided to come here Adelina. Do you think I haven't suffered enough? Did you want to punish me even more?'

'Of course not! I just wanted to see you, to let you know that I was all right,' Adelina said, pleading for her trust.

'If you had wanted that, then you could have come here five or even ten years ago. I used to know you, Adelina, and now I don't; you made sure of that. You've changed.'

'And you haven't?' Adelina cried, her sadness turning quickly into rage. 'You won't even look at me.' It was true. Ever since she had sat at the bench, her eyes had not lifted to her sister's face but rested on where her hands lay before her. Looking up now, Adelina saw the ghost of tears swimming in Constance's eyes.

'I can't look at you because I cannot forgive you,' Constance said calmly, as if it was the simplest fact in the world.

'I can barely recognise you,' Adelina told her. 'You're so different. You were always hard working, always focused on what you wanted to do but you were never so...so cold.'

It hurt like she never thought it would, like a dagger through her fast paced heart and she was silenced. Constance knew who she was, how she had changed since her circumstances had become so desperate. In truth, ever since her father had died she had lost something, part of herself, which she had never quite been able to claw back.

'Even the other teachers, the people who are supposed to be your friends,' she continued, 'they think you're heartless. They laugh at you sometimes, did you know that? The way you are, the way you act; they find it funny. They say no wonder you haven't got a husband, because nobody could ever lo-'

'Stop it!' Constance shouted with the authority and power she was forced to yield over an incompetent class, her eyes fiery with anger as she looked deep into Adelina's eyes.

'They wouldn't say that,' she said certainly, though found herself speaking with the forced conviction of a naive child.

'Why would I lie?'

'It seems to be rather a force of habit with you,' Constance spat defensively.

'Oh Connie, you really have no idea do you? You don't know what people really think of you...or maybe you do, and you just don't want to admit it. It isn't hard to overhear what people really think when you're an innocent bystander.' Constance had known her sister to be many things, but her tone seemed to be more malicious as she went on, something she had never seen within her. Yes, they had both changed, but what had they become?

'I think that you should go,' Constance informed her finally, standing up after a long and uncomfortable silence. Adelina's face changed in an instant. Her expression had been distorted by twisted anger, but now it seemed sad and childlike.

'Oh God,' she muttered, putting her face in her hands, 'I knew I would do this, I knew that I would ruin everything.' Constance was startled, not sure how to handle such an unprecedented and delicate situation.

'What do you mean?' Adelina looked at her with her tear streaked face; somehow she still managed to seem beautiful despite her misery.

'I panic,' she explained, 'whenever I'm in a situation where I don't know what to do. I just knew that it would happen when I finally got to meet you, because I had no idea what I was going to say. It's like a curse really, but I shouldn't make excuses. Connie, I did a terrible thing and I can never apologise enough. I don't know how to make it up to you, I probably never will, but I didn't want to come here just to insult you; that was wrong of me. I just want you to know how much you mean to me, and how much the time we spent together before...before everything, made me a better person. I missed you.'

'I told you,' Constance started, 'not to call me Connie.' Adelina managed a small smile.

'Sorry,' she replied.

'Well, now you've said your piece I think it's time for you to leave,' Constance announced abruptly, walking past her sister to the stairway which led away from the dungeons. Adelina's face fell once more.

'Wait,' she half pleaded running after her, 'don't you think that we should talk? I mean, I've been 'dead' for twenty years and our first conversation after so long didn't go very well.' Constance turned on her heel to face Adelina.

'No, it did not,' she agreed. 'I don't think it would be advisable to continue with this now.'

Constance walked swiftly up the stairs, ignoring the dizziness as she walked by closing her eyes for the last few steps; Adelina had to run to keep up.

'Can I see you again?' she called after Constance who didn't even falter in her step despite her aching joints.

'Perhaps,' replied Constance vaguely, not giving anything else away in her tone.

'Please Con, don't shut me out,' begged Adelina. Constance stopped suddenly, so much so that Adelina almost bumped into her. She turned to Adelina with a serious expression, though the younger woman could see that in her eyes lay pain which had been forced to resurface. It was then that she started to appreciate exactly what she was putting Constance through just by being there.

'I can't,' Constance said sadly, 'I can't deal with all of this right now. I woke up this morning thinking that it was my fault, my burden to bear that you weren't here and now...It's a lot to take in and I need time. I can't promise that I can forgive you, but I can promise that I will try.'

A moment passed between them, the first warm moment in more than two decades, and it was as though for a second everything was forgotten. The weight of memories, of years alone and with nobody to turn to, would always obscure the bond which had once held them so tightly together but they could try if nothing more. Before Adelina could say anything else, Constance had folded her arms and vanished before her eyes.

Xxx

Appearing back in the staffroom, Constance felt the mood change quicker than the winds of a tumultuous storm. Everyone fell silent, only Miss Cackle able to hold her gaze and she had to consider whether what Adelina had been saying was true. She had never been particularly self conscious before, but now surrounded by the people she had always worked with, she had to wonder what they really thought of her.

Amelia started to ask how it had gone, but thought better of it and closed her mouth. She watched Constance move to the urn and begin to make a cup of tea, unable to take her gaze elsewhere. Constance filled her black mug with deep brown liquid, her ears sensing the words being muttered between Imogen and Davina as she did so in a tone too hushed even for her tuned hearing to gauge. It was a feeling, so strong and unnerving, that they were talking about her. She tried to shake away such thoughts; the last thing she needed now was the burden of paranoia to bear.

Stirring the tea, Constance smelt the sweet waves of smoke rising from the mug and allowed them to envelop her senses. At first, the gentle heat was soothing, like the gentle touch of someone who cared against her cheek; then everything changed. She felt the familiar trickle of something beneath her nose and, placing her mug on the table, Constance reached up to confirm what she almost already knew to be true. Seeing the blood once more on her fingertips filled her with something; it was not quite fear, not pain or dread, but something far deeper. It was an emotion which stemmed from her soul and took charge of her entire body without a second's thought.

Nausea gripped her like the unyielding hand of an abusive lover, churning her stomach until it seemed to flip over within her. Her face drained to a sickening pallor, one as grey as the unquiet dead and she moved swiftly and desperately to grab onto the table which was the only thing that kept her from falling shamelessly to the ground.

Miss Cackle saw it at once. She had sensed the concealment spell the day before, and now though she couldn't quite see through it she was aware of what it was trying to hide. Trying not to draw the attention of the other teachers, Amelia moved across the room to where Constance was leaning heavily.

'I'm-'

'No,' Amelia interrupted in a stern but quiet whisper before Constance could even begin her symphony of lies, 'no you really aren't.' Constance refused to look at her for a moment, not able to find any words that the headmistress would believe. A drop of blood fell from her nose and hit the table, splashing like the raindrops which pounded against the windows as the true rage of the storm outside began to reveal itself. Amelia saw it in an instance. Though she could not see what Constance truly looked like, once the droplet of blood had passed beyond the realms of the charm it became real and visible, as clear as day on the scrubbed wooden table. She could barely hear her own thoughts against the pounding of blood in her ears.

'I know you're using a spell,' she whispered hurriedly, 'I've suspected for days. You can't lie to me any more Constance I won't have it.' Constance turned her head so that her deep brown pools were looking right into Amelia's old grey eyes.

The look was so sad, so unbelievably sad, that Miss Cackle felt tears rising in her eyes just to see someone look so lost and helpless. It seemed as though, for the first time since she had known Miss Hardbroom, she was on the verge of tears with the whites of her eyes glistening brightly and the spark of wit and authority which was usually set permanently in her pupils faded to nothing.

'Please,' breathed Constance, 'please just...not now. I can't...' her plea was cut off as she closed her eyes, bending over slightly further and placing a hand over her abdomen which felt as if it was about to explode. When her eyes opened once more, the tears had formed in the corners of her eyes and were threatening to fall.

'Please Amelia,' she rasped, 'help m-' It was the first time she had such a thing in her entire life, and her words were cut off as the door swung open. Constance turned and straightened at once as Adelina entered the room, her hands behind her back clinging onto the table for dear life. Amelia swivelled around so that she was slightly in front of her deputy and greeted their guest with a reluctant smile. One of her soft, wrinkled hands reached back and touched Constance's in reassurance, a silent gesture which meant more than either would ever know.

'Sorry for inconveniencing you Miss Cackle,' Adelina apologised gently. 'The papers will need to be sent off within the next few days and I will take my leave now.' Unhooking her coat from a peg on the wall, she began buttoning it over her clothes when Miss Drill moved in her chair to look out of the window.

'But you can't leave now,' Imogen stated.

'Why not?' Amelia inquired a little more harshly than she had intended.

'Look at the weather! The heavens have opened it seems, and there's thunder and lightning every few seconds. I'm not an expert, but those aren't walking conditions let alone the sort of weather for flying in.'

Amelia had to agree. The weather was atrocious, turning more and more violent by the second and raging louder than a wounded lion.

'It seems you will be staying with us a little longer than expected, Adelina,' Miss Cackle said brightly, though that nagging thought was still with her in the very back of her mind telling her that this endeavour would only end in misery. She felt Constance's hand tense beneath hers.

The wind howled and raged, pummelling the trees until they begged for mercy. The sun was gone, cruelly taken from the world it so loved and locked behind an unyielding wall of cloud which would become its tomb. Someone, somewhere, looked out at the purple storm clouds and smiled a sickening smile which made even the insects run in fear. The birds were grounded, unable to fly through the relentless storm and the pupils of Cackle's Academy were trapped too. It didn't feel like it quite yet, but the castle would soon seem like their prison.

The worst was still to come.


Thoughts anyone? Was it awful? Too long? Not long enough? Rather random nonsense?

Any comments are much appreciated, and I must get out of the habit of early hour proof reading! Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it.

HBR x