AN: Since birthdays (my bday today! ^_^ Can I has HB?) are meant to be celebrated, I decided to update with a chapter that is twice as long as usual.:) Enjoy & Review!
Chapter 11: I Really Don't Know What You Mean, Headmistress!
"Did she do that to you?"
Constance heard Enid's voice and stopped in her tracks, deciding to find out what the girls were talking about first before she enters the potions lab. It was always good to know what was on the young witches' minds because then it was easier to shush them down during the class with precisely worded comments that made them think she could read minds.
"No…well, yes. But it was an accident!" Mildred replied and through the small window in the doors, Constance could see she rolled down her sleeve. Was she showing Enid the scratches from their yesterday's late night encounter?
"An accident? She could have killed you!" Enid continued.
"She didn't mean it, really. I…I did something wrong and…it wasn't her fault, it was mine."
It didn't matter to the witch that Mildred was trying to cover up for her. There was only one thought on her mind and that was that the girl broke her promise not to tell anyone and now everybody knew about her break down! The stupid chatty brat had to share it with all her friends, she couldn't keep her mouth shut – it's always like that with Mildred! Constance felt the rage overcoming here, consuming all her rational thoughts. She felt betrayed by the girl, gossiped about and hated. Before entering the class, she had to calm down or she wouldn't be able to control her powers and that could end in tears, as she used to say.
"We need to tell Miss Cackle. She's getting too dangerous - what if she attacks someone else the next time, huh?"
"No, Maud. I promised I wouldn't tell anybody! It's bad enough the three of you know…!" Mildred voice was desperate with a hint of anger.
"Quiet!" the well-known ice cold voice filled the room and shortly after that their fearsome potions teacher appeared in front of the blackboard, her arms folded and eyebrows brought together in a dangerous frown. All the girls took their seats and the excited chatter disappeared. Instead, the air was filled with tension and fear. It was only yesterday that Miss Hardbroom shot Miss Drill and for all the girls but Mildred it was the very first time they saw her since then. They had many questions but no one would dare to ask them. They wondered about Miss Hardbroom's attitude to all of it, wondered about whether the action was intentional or not. The teacher looked around the class, seeing the accusing looks and hateful glances. She was being examined by her students – her posture, her hair, her dress…she was being judged. Everybody in the class hated her and the healthy respect they had for her turned into sheer fear. Finally after all those years, they saw her as a true dictator: someone who rules with fear and fear only. She saw all this in their eyes and their faces.
"Good morning, girls," she greeted them as every morning.
"Good morning, Miss Hardbroom," they all replied as they always did. However this time Constance heard the disdain in their voices and it seemed to her they were trying to mock her by emphasizing 'good'. The girls seemed wicked, united in their hatred for the teacher. Her lips formed a thin line as she slowly eyed every pupil in the class, looking for anything she could used against them. They need to be controlled and to learn that no matter how much they hate their teacher, they cannot let it show like that!
"Tie up your bootlaces, Mildred," she finally said, picking on the girl that had betrayed her trust. Mildred looked down at her shoes, the laces tied and neat.
"But Miss, my laces are…" she started but it took just a blink of an eye and the bootlaces undid themselves on their own. The girl's eyebrows shot up in confusion. She looked at Miss Hardbroom and then back at her laces, getting the feeling that the teacher had something to do with it.
"Your laces are, in fact, untied! Yet again! I will not tolerate this any longer – after three years one would think you would know how to perform a simple task of tying up two strings together but no, a girl like you never learn, does she?" her voice was different than usual, Mildred noticed. The witch spoke with more feeling than usually, the ice-cold tone melting under the burning anger. The young girl didn't like this anger because it felt untamed and dangerous, which scared her.
"I swear they were tied up a few seconds ago!" she exclaimed, not willing to be picked on unfairly. It was one thing when the teacher scolded her for something that was her fault (intentionally or not) but this was almost bullying. Mildred was, after all, fourteen and being rebellious and not afraid to stand up for herself were the characteristics many girls of her age shared. Miss Hardbroom lifted her chin a little higher, her lips forming a proud pout, the upper lip slightly sticking out. That was never a good sign.
"A few seconds ago, I wasn't here. Does that mean I am not here now?"
"No, Miss Hardbroom," the young witch sighed, giving it up and doing up her laces. That was a fight she couldn't win.
"Do not sigh like that when I assign you a task, girl! 500 lines of 'I will fulfill my assignments without a word and never forget to do up my laces again.'!"
All the girls in class, excluding Ethel and Drusilla, exchanged disapproving looks and Enid whispered something to Maud. Mildred opened her mouth to argue but Jadu poked her in the ribs and shook her head, indicating her friend to be quiet. There were moments when a student did not have the right to speak up, no matter what the circumstances. That was one of them.
"Now, who can tell me what we learnt last week?"
When questions like that were asked, all the eyes in the class automatically fell to the ground and the silent wish of not being asked to answer was almost audible. Constance looked around and saw Jadu patting Mildred's back in an attempt to cheer her up.
"Jadu Vali, for example, since you seem so lively today." Jadu was visibly in distress – she was one of those people who didn't handle being under pressure well. She gulped and shifted in her seat, remembering what they learnt last week.
"We were talking about roots, Miss Hardbroom," she managed to say.
"Yes, so according to you we spent the entire last week chatting about roots, drinking tea and smiling at each other, didn't we?"
The girl did not dare to answer that. Constance let out a contemptuous sound that was supposed to point out Jadu's lack of knowledge. "Jadu, you will write out 500 times 'I must pay more attention to what we do in class.'" The girl nodded.
"Anybody can answer my question correctly?" she looked around the class.
"We were talking about how important it is to know the difference between the many sorts of roots and how to distinguish between the ones that look alike, Miss," Maud spoke.
Any other time, Constance would be satisfied with this answer. After all, it was exactly what they were doing last week. But since that morning everything seemed as an insult to her, even Maud's correct answer seemed to be mocking her. She wouldn't have that from anybody! And most certainly not from a member of Mildred's gang!
"Did I ask you to answer me, Maud Moonshine? Do you think you can just speak up like that, without even raising your hand?"
Maud looked as if she was about to cry. She was proud of her knowledge and to express herself in class was not easy for her due to her shyness. Miss Hardbroom was harsh and mean to her and the girl didn't deal well with that sort of attitude towards her. She shook her head, uttering a quiet: "No, Miss Hardbroom."
"I expect 500 lines of 'I will not speak in class unless I am directly asked to answer.' from you, Maud!"
Ruby leaned to her friend and whispered words of encouragement to her. When Constance saw that, she was certain that the irritating technology girl was telling her friend what a bitch the teacher was. Such disrespect!
"Ruby Cherrytree, how about you come to the board and tell me the difference between these two pictures?"
She motioned towards the blackboard and two pictures of roots appeared there. Ruby seemed shocked. Why would Miss Hardbroom pick her for the task?The teacher knew that Ruby needed help with recognizing the roots since she wasn't able to do the homework the day before. Whatever the reason, Ruby didn't want to fight with Miss Hardbroom and obediently walked to the front. She stared at the pictures, both roots looking the same to her, only from different angles. She did not say a word.
"Well? Which one is the Indian grass?" the teacher asked, already sure that her pupil hadn't got the slightest idea. She wanted her to respond though, to be humiliated in front of the whole class, so she would see how it feels to have everyone's eyes on her all the time.
"I don't know, Miss," Ruby said.
"For this awful performance you got an F, I hope that will motivate you to study for your potion class harder. Now sit!" Miss Hardbroom hissed.
She looked around the class again, noticing that the girls were no longer looking at her. Some of them were staring at their hands or tables, others were pretending to be redrawing the roots pictures to their notebooks just to avoid her gaze. The tension could be cut with a knife, however, Constance assured herself that she was doing the right thing. Enough was enough and she was fed up with their annoying comments, their incompetence and the way they all danced through life. Oh, how the young girls irritated her – so immature, rude and full of themselves. Since they decided to hate her so much, she should at least give them a proper reason! They thought she was strict before? Well, maybe picking up a few methods Mistress Broomhead had used on her when she was their age will teach them a lesson!
Everybody was surprised when Ethel Hallow raised her hand to ask a question. Mildred wondered why would anyone in the right state of mind ask Miss Hardbroom a question when she seemed to be in an extremely bad mood but then realized that the rich girl was probably trying to show the rest of the class how she was indeed Miss Harbdroom's favorite pupil and the no matter what mood the potion teacher was in, she wouldn't dare to be mean to her.
"What is it, Ethel?" the witch asked, still highly irritated.
"I wanted to know why the lab is in such a messy state. There are cupboard glasses missing, Miss! Is it true that Mildred saw---"
"Enough!"
There was so much anger in that one word that it scared the girls. Miss Hardbroom's hand were shaking, her strict gaze upon the curious girl. Not even the fact that she was a Hallow could save her from being subjected to the deputy's rage.
"You will write out 500 lines of 'I will not distract myself from learning by observing the environment around me and I will not ask questions that are completely unrelated to my studies.' Is that understood, Ethel?"
Judging from Ethel's face, it was not understood. She couldn't believe she was just given lines for no real reason! Drusilla, who was sitting next to her, considered shooting a hateful look in the teacher's direction but realized it would be a big mistake to do so and she turned back, hatefully looking at Mildred instead. Constance was beyond furious. Not only did the useless girl tell her friends about their late night encounter, no. She also shared the story with the whole class, probably acting it out with Enid for them before she came to the lab. In that moment Constance felt humiliated, hated and disrespected. She felt the anger within herself growing strong – not particularly aimed at the girls but more at herself for freaking out like that the night before. Before she would do something she could later regret, she counted to ten in her head, trying to hold back the burning anger.
The last time she had to calm herself like that was fourteen years ago - that was before she started using the Rational Potion. Back then she fully realized her anger issues and learned to somehow control her anger, after a few major accidents when people ended up physically hurt by her untamed powers. Even though everybody said that her magical powers were exceptional and that she was blessed to have them, she never agreed with the statement. Those people did not have to live with the powers, they did not feel the pressure against their chest every time they got irritated, they didn't understand the desperate need to break and damage things, they did not feel the strong desire to destroy everything around them, they didn't have to be afraid of hurting their loved ones. They did not understand, nobody understood. How could they?
At that moment in her potions lab, the witch regretted the decision she had made to stop using the potion. Just then she realized just how much her sanity depended on it, remembered why she started using it in the first place. Constance sat down and opened the potions text book, pretending to be looking for something in it. She turned the pages rather harshly and tried to take deep breaths, inhale in and out, to calm down her racing heart and to repress the dangerous powers that tried to surface. Her fingertips sparkled a little, as if they were trying to hold back the magic on their own as well. In such state, she wasn't able to interact with anybody, not to mention to actually teach a class. Once she felt she had her powers under control (at least for some time), she cleared her throat and came up with something that would occupy the young witches.
"Open you books on page six hundred twenty eight, chapter seven: the midnight herbs. You will rewrite the chapter in your notebooks, along with the illustrations. You can start now."
Enid was the first one to open the book and turned the pages, counting them. "But Miss Hardbroom, the chapter has twenty five pages!" she exclaimed, ignoring her friends' attempts to stop her. Constance glared at the impertinent student.
"That is chapter seven and eight for you, Enid Nighshade. Do you feel the need to inform me about the number of pages of chapter eight as well?"
To everyone's surprise Enid actually opened her mouth to reply but then closed it, unable to say a word. It wasn't that she didn't want to answer back to Miss Hardbroom, it was that she was physically unable to do so. She shot an angry look at Jadu, who obviously cast a quick silencing spell on her in order to save her from HB's wrath. For a moment, Constance envied the girls their genuine friendship. When Enid could speak again, she leaned to whisper something to Ruby but the deputy interrupted her before she had the chance to speak.
"Need I remind you that you are to work in silence?!"
No one dared to say another word that morning.
"Constance, a word - if I may?" Amelia poked her head out of her office some time later, inviting her deputy in. The witch nodded and followed Miss Cackle, closing the doors behind them.
"Is there any problem, Amelia?" she asked, automatically walking to her usual place near the window. She turned to the headmistress and immediately saw that something was troubling her.
"Yes, well…sit down, Constance, sit down please." Constance sat down, raising her eyebrows – a gesture that made the almost invisible lines of wrinkles appear on her forehead. Amelia sat down in her chair opposite her and sighed, shaking her head.
"I had a rather concerned student here this morning. She complained that you were – to put it in her words – highly irritated and gave out a few very unfair assignments. Is that true?"
Mildred Hubble! The brunette knew it had to be Mildred complaining! Oh, the girl really crossed the line this time! Reporting her to the headmistress, now that was inexcusable!
"I don't see, Miss Cackle," she started, using Amelia's last name to show her the professional distance she tried to maintain "how can a pre-pubertal young girl be certified in deciding what is an unfair assignment. As far as I am concerned, every assignment seems unfair to our girls these days."
"So you did not assign them to rewrite thirty pages from a book for no reason?" Amelia asked, sounding hopeful.
"I most certainly didn't. I believe it was twenty five pages – well, forty one for Enid," she crossed her arms and tilted her head back and to the side, her lips forming a thin line. She did not like where this conversation was heading. Amelia had a worried look on her face.
"The girl also mentioned that you seemed incapable of teaching during the potions class."
"The nerve! I hope you do not believe a single word the hopeless girl told you, Amelia. You know what her attitude towards me is!" Constance exclaimed.
"Yes, I do. That is why I find it so very difficult to believe that a girl like Ethel would say something like that about you without having a proper reason."
"Ethel?! Ethel Hallow?" her eyes widened.
"Yes, it was her who came to me this morning, I thought you had figured that out by yourself," Amelia looked as confused as Constance felt.
The younger witch was speechless for a moment, processing the information that it was not Mildred who had talked with Amelia behind her back. She felt a sting of guilt – she had been absolutely positive it was Mildred and she had not even considered anybody else. The truth made her see she had been a bit biased towards the girl, rushing into conclusions too soon. She shouldn't have done that. Amelia watched her employee and leaned closer to her, resting her elbows against the wooden table.
"Constance, you are the most valued member of this staff and the best deputy I have had. You are loyal, hard working and precise, not to mention the only one who is capable of defending this castle and its residents in case of an attack from the wicked witches or any other threat. You are not only my colleague but also my friend – I don't need to be considered yours, but I want you to know that I care about you."
"Please, Amelia, skip the sweet talking and get to the point. I assume you have something to tell me, am I right?"
The headmistress reached for Constance's hand but stopped mid way, clasping her hands together instead. "I cannot afford to lose such a great teacher."
"I am not going anywhere," the deputy replied and suspiciously examined Amelia's eyes.
"Imogen."
"Yes, I am familiar with the name. What has she to do with all this?"
"I have tolerated your mutual hatred for a long time. Seeing what happened yesterday, I cannot tolerate it any longer for yours and Imogen's sake alike. If it continues like this, I will have to let one of you go."
The old witch spoke firmly because she knew that Constance would only listen to authorities. In her heart, however, she wished to take the woman's pale hands into hers and show her that she cared about her – heck, she cared about Constance as if she was the daughter she had never had. She saw the confident look on the other woman's face. There was only one way she could make the witch change something about the situation: show her that being powerful did not make Constance Hardbroom the one in charge.
"Everything I do, I do in the best interest of the girls. I need teachers who are capable of teaching and cooperating. You must remember Constance, that while you are a valued member of my staff, you are not irreplaceable."
Not once before had Miss Cackle said something like that to Miss Hardbroom. She had never threatened to fire her before. Of course, Miss Hardbroom had never been so emotionally unstable before. For the second time that day, she wished she could take a sip from her Rational Potion. Without the liquid, everything seemed to fall apart.
"I see," she said and stood up to leave. There was no point in sticking around where she was not wanted.
"Wait," Amelia stopped her. "I am not firing you, Constance. Please, sit down."
"No, Amelia. I understand what you are trying to say," she said, walking to the doors.
"Constance Hardbroom! You go back this instant, sit down and you listen to me!"
The dangerous voice Amelia used surprised the witch and made her stop. She focused her gaze at the door-frame, feeling the magic inside her intensify. The pressure against her chest made her gasp and she closed her eyes shut, glad that she had her back turned to the other witch.
Control it, Constance.
"Is something wrong?" Amelia inquired since her employee was quiet for some time, staring at the doorframe. The headmistress couldn't see her face but felt that something was not right.
"No, nothing's wrong."
"Please, do not act like this. I do not want you to resign just to punish yourself for what happened yesterday."
"I am not," she protested, clenching her fists and digging her long, sharp nails painfully in the palms of her hands. She needed the pain to distract herself from the overtaking need to destroy half of the office. Amelia was quiet for a moment and then came closer to her. She wanted to put her hand on Constance's shoulder but something stopped her. It felt strange, as if something tried to warn her that the gesture could be potentially dangerous.
"Davina and I are taking the first and second year to see the Weirdsister College tomorrow. Imogen and you will be left here with the third and the fourth year. Both years are working on their individual semester projects, therefore you do not have to teach any classes for the next days. We will be back on Friday – till then I suggest you sort out whatever is going on between you two."
All the witch could do was nod. She needed to be alone and she would agree to anything just to be able to leave.
"Alright then. Thank you for hearing me out."
Without another word, Constance rushed out of the headmistress's office. Once outside, she hissed with pain and frustration, unsure of her feelings. She was upset, confused, irritated and even though she refused to admit it, she was scared. Cackle's was her home, if she had to leave, where would she go? What would she do? She couldn't imagine not living at Cackle's. She had to do something about the situation, it was getting out of her control and she did not like that at all. There were two possibilities: she could go and talk to Imogen, find out why they couldn't get along (the fact that she disliked the teacher was simply not enough) and try to control her emotions while doing so, hoping she wouldn't accidentally kill the blonde (which under the circumstances wasn't that unlikely). Or she could go to the woods, gather some Solmon Seal Roots and magically dry them to have all the ingredients to make a Ration Potion that would help her decide what to do next and would control her powers. Magically drying the roots would not be as effective as the traditional way, but it would have to do.
Constance decided for the latter. She would go to the woods that night and gather some herbs, mix them together and get rid of all those chaotic emotions and uncontrollable powers.
When she unclenched her fists small streaks of warm blood run down her fingers.
