(A/N)- Thanks for reviews, enjoy!

- Not Over You -

"Shouldn't the question be 'are'?"

"What?"

"Are wizards more important than witches?"

"Suit yourself. It'll come out the same in the wash."

Imogen looked to Constance, but her gaze remained straight ahead, calm and collected. She was genuinely surprised that the witch didn't make him choke on those words … but she remained silent. Imogen began to wonder if all wizards were like this … if they were, no wonder Constance wasn't … well …

"Drill can be chair, the rest can muck in as they like."

Imogen looked over at the man, half tempted to refuse. Constance finally spoke up.

"Well, I'm not quite sure …"

But the wizard cut her off, and she let out a huff and resumed her silence.

"Why did you let him talk like that?" Imogen asked afterwards once their headmistress and the Grand Wizard exited the room. Davina, who had jumped out of the cupboard just moments earlier and had given the man a near heart attack, was perched in her usual chair.

"Yes, why did you, Constance?" she echoed.

The witch rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at them, "He's the Grand Wizard! What was I supposed to say?"

"I should've said something. But then I'm certain he would've brushed me off as a silly non-witch, and being a woman to boot …"

Constance opened her mouth, but she quickly closed it, shaking her head, "He's ignorant, sexist, conservative … there's no getting through to him."

"Sounds like someone I know …" Davina said through giggles, which died down instantly when Constance shot her a death-glare.

"Constance is nowhere near as bad as him," Imogen defended before she could stop herself, and the witch looked to her, slightly taken aback, but she quickly turned her gaze back to her hands on the table.

"We should get going now, shall we?" she suggested, and rose from her chair and left without another word.

Imogen sat behind her desk on the stage, only half-aware of the arguing that was going on between the young witches and wizards. She couldn't believe Hellebore picked her to be chair, but then again she could; she was the only non-magickal person on staff and he probably supposed it would make the debate fair. Truthfully, she didn't want to have any part of it. Having only met Hellebore and his boys, it was safe to say that witches were indeed better than wizards. But when it came to the sexes, she had always been a firm believer in equality. This day, however, she was too upset with herself to care either way.

She meant to break up with Serge earlier today. She pedaled off into the woods in high spirits, taking comfort in the fact that neither of them had known each other long enough to be hurt by this decision. She was confident it would be for the best – and she swore to herself over and over again that she wasn't going to do this just because she might still have a chance with Constance … although she couldn't deny it was an incentive …

Serge barely gave her time to speak, and Imogen was too polite to cut him off. He spoke excitedly about his camp, and in the end he asked her to work there with him over the summer.

It all hit her like a ton of bricks, but eventually she said yes, and kicked herself mentally for it afterwards.

It was strange how it happened … but she figured it was a moment of panic. She liked the idea of working at a summer camp, the chance to work with children without grades and paperwork involved, plus the extra money couldn't hurt … but she wished she could've accepted his offer as friends.

She felt so guilty in his presence. He looked at her with such love and adoration, and Imogen … she felt nothing. And she hated herself for it. She wanted to love him. After all, they had so much in common. They'd be the picture perfect couple … if he'd stop pressuring her to grow her hair out and dress up like a lady, anyway.

But her heart still belonged to Constance, and she didn't realize the witch had it in the first place until she dared to try and move on.

And that kiss the other day … she knew Constance still had feelings too, no matter how much the witch apologized for what happened. She could scarcely believe anyone could kiss someone 'accidentally'.

Imogen glanced around the room as she twirled her pencil like a ballerina, and her eyes fell upon Constance, whose brown eyes were fixated with a look of disapproval as she looked to the two teams. She caught her gaze for a fleeting second before the witch looked away again. Imogen continued to stare at her, and soon she raised her brown eyes to meet hers, looking at her with that unreadable look in her eyes like she always did.

Imogen looked back down at her pencil with a quiet sigh.

The debate ended sooner than anyone could've imagined when Mildred came forward and revealed that the boys had been cheating with a potion that made them sound more intelligible.

"I still can't believe it," Imogen said later on in the staffroom once their guests had left that evening, "Do you think Hellebore put them up to it?"

"It's likely," Constance replied as she graded her pamphlets, "Though I'd imagine he would be so confident that wizards are always right, he might not resort to such a thing."

"Typical of men, really, to cheat … don't mean to be sexist, but …"

Constance raised a brow, eying her concernedly, "Is that what …"

"No, not Serge," Imogen clarified, "Actually … he asked me to work at his camp over the summer."

"That's nice," Constance replied distractedly as she turned back to her papers, scribbling notes in red ink, "It must be pretty serious then …"

"Not really, actually ... I planned to break up with him."

Constance looked up from her papers, looking paler than usual as she stared back at the non-witch.

"I planned to break up with him because I'm still not over you."

Silence fell in the staffroom after this confession, Constance's eyes still looking fearfully back at her. It felt like ages before the witch finally broke the gaze, returning to her papers. She stacked them up neatly, straightening them on the table with a few taps before getting up from her chair.

"You have lights out tonight; make … make sure to double-check the front gate because Mr. Blossom's not here today …"

"Right," Imogen replied, swallowing hard as her tears clouded her vision, and she looked away.

Constance remained a moment longer, and Imogen half expected the woman to approach her, or at least say something, but she soon went on her way, shutting the door behind her.

Once her footsteps faded away, the non-witch allowed herself to sob freely, burying her face in her arms on the staffroom table.

A creaking sound met her ears, the all-too-familiar creak of the stationary cupboard door …

Her heart plummeted, and she rushed to wipe her tears from her face, "Davina … I …" she struggled to think of an excuse, but words failed her, and besides, the batty old witch must have heard them …

Imogen summoned the courage to look up at her, fresh tears beginning to roll down her face despite how much she willed them away.

Davina looked back at her pitifully, almost being brought to tears herself by the sight of her.

"Oh, Imogen …" she said mournfully, and wrapped her arms around her tightly.

(A/N)- I apologize for the angst, trying to lighten it up a bit but I suppose my own mood affects my writing. :P Please review! Next will be 'Bolt from the Blue'