A/N: Music more or less helped with this latest instalment and also hats off to GloriaNewt, who more or less heard about my bitching, restored my confidence when it was sorely lacking and great games of ping pong with ideas, etc

In music terms, I've become obsessed with the Black Swan soundtrack, phantom of the opera, love never dies and Beethoven which were constantly blaring from my headphones and providing me with a muse. Funny, the power of music has over people! I can turn my hand to any music and hopefully be transported into another world, conjure up memories of good and bad times or to simply get the creative juices flowing.

Enjoy x

Chapter Nine: Losing Autonomy

Zelda abandoned her notes without hesitation and raced down the winding stairwell as fast as possible, already the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her heart pumping furiously to maintain the steady demand for oxygen and energy. The hysteria amplified, her voice pierced the still air of the evening.

Her mind, always thinking ahead, rapidly trying to decipher the mystery as to what had caused Amelia's fresh panicked plea for assistance.

Relief reduced her worrisome features but failed to calm the distress, evident in her voice "I don't know what happened...she feels feverish to touch."

Her hearing was temporally dulled as blood pulsated angrily with each hammering heartbeat, Amelia's voice almost inaudible, nothing but a muffled noise. Zelda bit the inside of her lip, still panting to regain her breath, she reached for her sweaty forehead and recoiled, the deputy headmistress was indeed suffering from a fever but there was fault and uncertainty which rained supreme over her pinked features.

Amelia lightly touched Zelda's arm, to catch her attention and carefully watched the witch counselor

"This is bad." She muttered, quickly regretting her choice of words but it was too late

"Bad?" snipped Amelia

Reluctantly, Zelda nodded "I assumed there would be more time."

She tutted "Time for what?" she interrupted "Now, listen here...you've kept me in the dark for too long and now look," she referred to Constance "She is paying the price for your incompetence."

Zelda gasped, taken aback "Excuse me? I don't think you understand the severity of your actions in all of this! I should report you to the guild for the use of forbidden spells...your inadequate knowledge, poor judgement and prolonged use of the memory suppressing spell...suffice to say that you are responsible for all of this...and I am simply cleaning up the mess."

Immediately, Amelia straightened her posture in a bid to give herself some extra inches to her height but still appeared no match for the younger witch, Zelda was a few inches taller in stature, towering over her. Amelia placed her shaking hands onto her hips

"Well then, what is preventing you from reporting me to the guild?"

Zelda remained silent but mimicked Amelia's actions by placing her own hands onto her hips

Amelia continued "After all, I would certainly hate to cause speculation and raise suspicions to the guild or worry your patients that you have broken doctor-patient confidentiality..." her voice trailed off, leaving an idle threat in her wake

Zelda clenched her fists tightly, her manicured nails digging into the palms of her hands. Breathing deeply through her nostrils to control the warmth that was slowly building up from the pit of her stomach, the rage bubbled.

"What I was about to say," she hissed at Amelia for the initial interruption "Normally, after a cleansing...from what I gathered from research and past documented cases, there is suppose to be a 'resting' period."

Amelia cocked an inquisitive eyebrow, choosing to remain silent and allow for Zelda to elaborate further.

"According to evidence, the initial recovery from the cleansing is remarkable! Patients feel liberated from the constraints of suppressing forces but since the spell has been removed...there is no escaping the inevitable...she will relive all those suppressed memories. After all the dam has been removed, metaphorically speaking."

"But what about the fever?"

Zelda shrugged "How it could be directly linked to the cleansing escapes me?"

Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose "Is nothing simple?" she voiced aloud

"It normally gets worse."

"Oh! Why thank you Zelda...as if I do not have enough to contend with already. I thought the cleansing was suppose to help Constance and now she'll have to journey through the hell of her past in order to get better!"

Zelda rubbed her exhausted eyes, exasperated at the reluctance of Amelia, not used to someone assuming control especially concerning the deputy headmistress, for too long Amelia was used to answering to no-one else and proved reluctant to change.

"I already discussed this with you..." growled Zelda, only briefly keeping her temper in check


A pitiful whimper escaped her parted lips as a new wave of pain contorted, sending ripples throughout her body. At first the pain began similar to indigestion, her abdominal muscles crippled and rendered into a semi permanent state of tightened spasms. There was little that could be offered to comfort her body's physical cry for help. Only she could hear and feel the screaming, for something, anything to silence the agony.

"Where...where is it?" demanded a forgotten voice, breaking the petty squabbling

Both Amelia and Zelda instantly relaxed, the tension melting away instantaneously. For a moment, they had forgotten the common link which had brought them together. Constance weakly attempted to push herself from the chair, the pain was evident in her features and in true fashion refused to allow it to control her or to show. Her body racked with agony, an excruciating headache momentarily stole her focus and patience.

"Constance, you are unwell..." began Amelia, immediately starting to fuss

"Oh stop Amelia!" her harsh tone matched her glare "Where is it? Which one of you took it?" she demanded

Amelia was genuinely confused and assumed that this was the beginning of a long suppressed memory coming to light, from the long dormant slumber. However, Zelda retained a cool, clam demeanor "You rely heavily on that crutch."

"Give it to me!" ordered Constance, the same tone reserved for disobedient students

"No." She replied softly

"Zelda?" questioned Amelia

She licked her lips, her eyes never leaving Constance "It would seem that Constance has developed...more that a habit for wide awake potion. This is the direct result. It all makes sense. A likely conclusion that Constance is in a state of withdrawal and the fever...marks only the beginning."

Amelia slowly shook her head, eyes saddened with disappointment. Never wishing any harm to come to Constance, her daughter but she could not help but think that this was part of her own doing, the physical suffering was a heavy price to pay for abusing such a complex and potent potion for her own benefit.

"You cannot do this...give it to me!" pushed Constance, through clenched teeth

"Is this wise? In combination to removing the suppressing spell, she now faces the pain of withdrawal?"

Zelda glanced at Amelia before returning a fixed stare at Constance but there was something sinister in her eyes. Was Zelda judging her, looking down her nose with contempt perhaps wanting to prolong her suffering?

"A cleansing of the mind and body..." her voice trailed off

Constance could feel the very last barrier weaken, the last remaining dregs of the wide awake potion that circulated her system dulled, the effects no longer powerful enough to offer a calming, control influence over her mind. One of the benefits of wide awake potion gave her was the ability to remain focused, objective but now logical thoughts were being overthrown, succumbing to the ravages of her exposed and shattered mind. Hearing Zelda and Amelia discussing her like she was a mindless, helpless automaton, she could hear them, hear everything.

Rage induced sparks of magic spat between her casting fingers. To be denied and questioned was practically unheard off. It was all a conspiracy, both were out to get her.

"I can decide my own fate...I'm still competent, I'll decide," then her voice dropped "Don't take that from me...the only control that I have left..."

She could not evade Amelia's eyes, the woman whom she had looked upon as her protector, her mother was deeply disappointed. Amelia disapproved of wide awake potion, knowing that the risks greatly outweighed the benefits and quite contradictory, preaching to their students that magic was not to be used for trivial or selfish purposes and yet the whole time, unbeknown to Amelia that right under her nose, the ever faithful deputy headmistress was secretly dependent, under the seductive qualities of the potion.

Amelia had failed yet again.

No matter how hard she tried to get Constance to open up, to simply communicate with her then maybe this could have all have been avoided or dealt with in another manner. Or had she subconsciously turned a blind eye? Never question her, just like in the potion lab, Amelia did not think anything of it, never prevented or stopped her. Or had she been blinded by love and admiration that she simply assumed that Constance only used the potion when circumstances called for it, never addicted as there would or should have been clear signs?

"Amelia," she began "I'm not dependent on the potion."

Lies, all lies. How could she trust anything that came out of an addict's mouth?

"The potion allowed me to escape the never ending torment of nightmares, constantly in pursuit of my sanity. There was no where else to escape. I had to allude them, somehow."

"Constance...even your body protests! This is why you're suffering...the withdrawal is nature's way of tell you...us that you have a problem."

She gasped "But, I do not have a problem."

Zelda backed away slightly, giving Amelia and Constance some much needed space. She knew the location of the last vial of wide awake potion which was safety hidden, despite her pleas, begging and threats from previous addicts, Constance would not be shown any sympathy or leniency

"Please, Amelia..." whispered Constance

Reluctantly, she perched herself on the arm of the chair. Her arm brought Constance closer, into a close embrace. Amelia wanted to say something, anything that would console her but at this moment in time, she could not trust herself. Her own judgement regarding addicts and the tragic loss of close one's due to self abuse of magic and potions re-opened old wounds and was scared that she may inadvertently say something that would further add to Constance' guilt. It would have to be confronted another day.

Constance could feel her eyes grow weary, fighting the temptation to simply surrender easily without resistance to unconsciousness. The scent of Amelia's faint perfume offered comfort while her warm arm offered safety which reminded Constance of her own mother, someone from her past that she had not thought about in a long time, too painful. She remembered when her mother would hold her, similar to Amelia and gently rocked back and forth while softy, humming a song.

Somewhere, lingering in the horizon, a soft sound played and begged Constance to follow.


Music. Slowly over the years she found herself attracted to it, some unknown force, a calling which pulled her back, always to her one true love. It was beautifully tragic and tragically moving. The tune echoed throughout the corridors of the sleeping college, every student blissfully unaware with the exception of one lone student.

She clutched her pristine workbooks closely into her shivering chest, padding towards the music, attracted to the steady lull of the harmonious sound, it was enticing, almost intoxicating which emitted from the great hall, never has she heard such a complex and magical composition played within the confines of the aging stoned walls, in all her years at college.

Constance could not afford to be spotted, curiosity getting the best of her, she was determined to learn the identity of the mysterious person responsible for producing the most exquisite piece of music that she had ever heard.

The candlelight provided the perfect camouflage, casting shadows which made her invisible. As long as she remained still, she was perfectly hidden and could closely observe this rare occasion, being the only member of the audience and witness to whomever was playing the seemingly never used instrument.

Hecketty Broomhead sat hunched over the piano, breaking her self imposed rule of perfect posture as her fingers appeared to be shaking despite gliding effortlessly over the ivory keys and able to create the most delightful sounds, flawlessly recreating the timeless classic of Beethoven's piece of music.

The magical composition of the Moonlight Sonata fascinated and hypnotized Constance as she remained hidden in the darkness, holding her breath and permitted herself to drift from reality and disappeared somewhere, mind catapulting her into another place, another world. Constance could sense the hurt that accompanied the classic tune, to feel a tiny ounce of pain that the usually emotionless tutor portrayed.

The music unfolded with each key, telling a wordless and sad story, the truth of the tutor who played the piano. Hecketty granted herself, allowed a brief moment of weakness as she surrendered from her own vice like grip of control and slowly ventured into her own almost long forgotten memories of childhood, linked through music.

Once a carefree child, music has always been an influence in her life and upbringing. It fascinated her that a song or instrumental piece of music had the ability to transform her into another world or affect her mood, it was simply amazing and it was then, at the tender age of ten that she decided that she wanted to create her own music, to write her own variations of the classics and eventually write her own music, to make a name for herself with her own unique style. She dreamt of what an exhilarating feeling it would be to be on stage and having the ability to capture the hearts of her audience, their attention focused solely on her but that was all in the past. A bitter reminder that her dreams had been cruelly destroyed, shattered beyond repair and it was something that she would never fully recover from.

Hecketty closed her eyes, to escape even for a few precious moments. Effortlessly, she continued to play, knowing the carefully constructed order in which to play, from memory. How could she forget? Music had been her first love and even though there were times when she tried to erase her childhood from existence, she found herself always pulled back to that place, that one time that she had been happy. Hecketty could never fully understand the reason and had long since came to peace, to resist the temptation to ever play again would be to never teach again. It was a natural gift that would never remain silent.

She opened her eyes, to find herself reliving a memory. The baby grand piano had remained untouched like forbidden fruit, it was destined, begged for attention and her chubby fingers touched the unspoilt keys, breaking the silence which permanently surrounded the house. She remembered how her father would sit beside her for hours as he taught her the keys and even way past her bedtime, she would beg and plead to continue even though her tiny eyes cried out for much needed sleep, even at such a young age, she pushed herself. Both mentally and physically.

Then her mother appeared!

Her father had long disappeared from the house and her life, leaving only little Hecketty and the now evil, vindictive woman that was once her loving mother.

Through, closed eyes, Hecketty still flinched when she caught sight of her mother. She had been watching but for how long? A long shadow blocked out the glorious sunshine and soon the music stopped, her fingers came to rest on the cool keys. The touch tainted the ivory key of the prized and dusty possession. The piano was now strictly for show only, never to be played again.

Her mother stood towering over Hecketty, remaining perfectly still with the exception of her eyes which danced with rage, glistening of untold cruelty that dreamt up a punishment suitable for her disobedient daughter.

The piano lid snapped shut, trapping and breaking her fragile fingers. Her mother's weight came to rest on the wooden lid as she leaned closer towards her struggling daughter 'Just like your father.'

'Please...' she managed to cough, through her salty tears and unbearable agony

Her mother's heart as her love was gone, nothing but a blackened hole filled the void. No longer granted the warmest of affections that a child wanted to be showered with as a reward, no longer a loving or kind word to be heard to reassure her confidence. Hecketty only knew humiliation and pain at the hands of her sadistic mother.

Hecketty's eyes widened when she saw her own blood taint the virginal white keys of the piano, the pain continued as the broken bones crushed under the weight, adrenaline causing her body and aching hands to shake wildly which caused her more pain. The burning agony was beyond words, crippling pain in her fingers but also in her frightened, racing heart, unsure of what this deranged woman, she once referred to as her mother was capable of doing next that would satisfy her sadist tendencies.

'Will you ever learn? That daddy's little maestro is to never touch what is not hers!'

The remnant sound of her mother, still swirled in her ears, pricking the hairs on the back of her neck. The woman still had the able to inject fear despite long severing the family ties and changing her name. She opened her eyes, now back where she belonged, thankful to have banished the hellish childhood memories. Her body shuddered as she fought to control the weakened tears, spilling out from the iron cage and fell, gracefully onto the keys. Still she pushed on, to complete the piece of music which she had started.

Constance felt the tiniest notion of guilt, perhaps she had been quick to judge her new tutor and maybe the only student to witness a rare scene unfold before her eyes. Sadly, there was nothing she could do. Mistress Broomhead could easily punish her should she suddenly voice her presence, instead it was safer to remain silent even when Hecketty finished playing.

The mistress carefully closed the lid of the piano and locked it shut, preventing any foreign fingers from polluting the immaculate condition of the instrument, she was destined to never become like her mother but despite her valiant efforts, she was fighting a losing battle, even unknown to herself.

Constance waited until she was certain that Mistress Broomhead had returned to her office, the sounds of her heels had long since died. She passed the piano, her eyes never leaving the object after hearing the beauty it possessed.

Arriving outside the office door, her fist tapped gently against the aging door before entering. Hecketty Broomhead sat in her chair, her trademark scowl firmly in place 'Don't dawdle girl...be seated and let us continue from the our last session.' Her voice snapped


A/N Part Two: Sorry, but obviously couldn't include this note in the beginning for fear of spoiling anything! To save confusion, there was a flashback within a flashback...yeah, it wasn't the easiest to type and tweak but got there. Believe me if there was a better/easier way of doing it, I'd gladly have written it that way but alas, what's done is done.

Also, was very weary of the whole Zelda (tough love, btw! She's not heartless) and Amelia (forever clueless) scene as it was pretty similar to what I had previous and was more paranoid that I was repeating myself, so I hope it did not read like that.

Until the next upload...