Rocky had been right. She didn't need to use thought invasion to see that Mistress Broomhead did not seem to be targeting her because she was affiliated with her former student. She had been particularly interested in Rocky's background; her education and her magical heritage. But parallel to her carefully constructed web of secrets, there was an equally elaborate web of deception, and to Broomhead's dissatisfaction, there were no loopholes in Rocky's web; there was nothing left to criticise. She had a perfectly conjured set of lies, counterfeit certificates and proof of a basic magical heritage.
Unfortunately, Rocky had been right twice. The old woman was a bad loser, and in her temper, her first thought was to punish someone when she was unable to find anything to use against Rocky.
Rocky focussed on the older woman's thoughts, struggling to keep up with her physically as she swept along the corridor. As she entered the great hall, her eyes settled on some particularly neatly-coiled hair across the room.
"NO!" Rocky appeared in front of her, seconds later, and knowing what the witch had been thinking, cast a protective wall between them and the other occupants of the hall who looked to have been practising a play. Constance whipped around instinctively, moving forward to take a defensive position in front of the students.
Hecate let out a short, malicious laugh.
"How sickly sweet," she said mockingly, "Been getting cosy and swapping secrets? Rubbish little witch like you, hoping to be something you're not?" Her glare returned to Rocky as she sneered; she was not afraid to challenge a witch with such patchy magical skills, "I challenge you, pathetic freak, a witches' duel, and you know what my prize shall be..." Her gaze flickered and briefly met with Constance's.
Constance let out a sharp gasp of horror. She was certainly not an object to be won in a duel! She was horrified; wholeheartedly hoping that Rocky would not accept such a risk. She silently cursed the clumsy witch's seemingly naive nature. Constance had just got used to the idea that she might have meant something to someone, and now Rocky was not only placing herself in incredible danger, but offering Constance up as bait.
"How dare you assume that I am anything like you? I'm not the one hoping, here! But I accept your challenge, and when you lose," Rocky spoke through gritted teeth, "You are to stay well away from Constance Hardbroom, and from this school and everyone associated with it, and you are never to use magic in such an evil, twisted, torturous way ever again." She stepped back, preparing to take a better stance and position for duelling, "Witches' code, I believe, law seventeen: no retaliation if you lose an agreed witches' duel."
"So be it" Hecate sneered arrogantly, "Prepare to give your precious Constance as my victory prize!"
"Why?" thought Constance, determined not to show the tears she could feel prickling her eyes "Why the hell would you do this to me?"
Constance tried to gulp, but her mouth was too dry. There was nothing she could do. A duel could not be stopped once the agreement had been made. She watched helplessly as some of the older students transformed the magical shield into a dome to protect onlookers from the duel spells. Just Rocky and Mistress Broomhead remained within the holographic dome they had constructed. Rocky had zapped her shoes again; she had decided against fighting in heels. She glanced to her left, noticing Constance outside of the dome looking, if it were possible, several shades paler than usual.
I'm sorry. Constance felt the words almost as though she had heard them, and seeing Rocky's face, she knew that she must have been the source of that feeling. "Stop looking at me and win this bloody thing" she thought repeatedly, just in case Rocky's mind was on her thoughts. But it wasn't. Rocky knew that her magic could easily win this battle, but she wasn't arrogant about it.
Before anyone realised the duel had started, Rocky had already swiftly deflected a spell.
"No you don't!" she spat, glaring at Hecate before returning the attack, "I know your filthy behind-the-back tactics!"
Blue and red sparks of magic soared between the duellers. Had it been a firework display, it would have been impressive. But to Constance, and the majority of the students, it was a terrifying battle scene.
The attacks increased in both frequency and force, as Rocky became more infuriated with her challenger. She caught Hecate sneaking evil looks towards where she knew Constance was standing, and her mind was infiltrated by the older woman's malicious thoughts. This made Rocky more determined than ever, as she advanced across the base of the dome towards her prey.
In her arrogance and distraction, Hecate lost her concentration. She was hit by a tripping spell while shooting yet another malicious glare at Constance. Bound to the floor by Rocky's magic, she stared up at her opponent with newfound fear. She realised that she was unlikely to escape this, and now even less likely to win. Still, she refused to submit.
Simultaneously, Rocky knew that victory was hers. It would be surprising if there was anyone in the world who didn't feel at least a part of the anger that was so apparent in her eyes. In the last moment of the fight, a strange glint passed through her eyes, like the sight of bloodstained metal as she cast the final spell. She stood above her weakened prey, and whispered words that were all too familiar to Constance's ears. A sharp shriek filled the air. Constance dematerialised before she had the chance to see any more, but she knew what had been done; Hecate Broomhead had finally tasted her own vicious poison.
The dome crumbled like shattering glass as the fight was won. Other teachers and pupils had been attracted to the hall by the sounds of the fight. It was a small feat that Hecate Broomhead was almost instantly magically escorted from the school by several of the now large group of onlookers. Rocky turned to find her sixth years behind her.
"That was extreme! Totally amazing!" Griselda shrieked as Rocky ran stressed fingers through her own hair.
"Where's Miss Hardbroom?" Rocky asked, concerned.
"She's-" Mags turned around, "She was right there a moment ago"