A/N: Merry Xmas folks!
Oh dear! The pressure is on to ensure that this chapter flows well and is equally good as the last! I had totally hit the wall until my insomnia kicked in *looks at watch* Have been up for ages now.
Thanks for all the positive reviews and so glad that you guys have enjoyed my little creation and I didn't have to resort to bribery LOL
I should warn you all, that this was a struggle to write, not exactly happy with the outcome! Thanks goes out to GloriaNewt for playing ping-pong with ideas!
Well, Enjoy x
Chapter Three: She Needs You
The weather matched Amelia's mood. The once cheerful sunshine which had been beaming high in the midday sky was beaten by the rolling grey clouds. The sun was unable to break through the thick clouds and simply surrendered.
There was a storm brewing on the horizon, a groan of thunder echoed before the heavy clouds opened up and drench the landscape.
Amelia sat slumped on the well-worn chair, her chin rested in her hand as she watched the changing scenery. Sighing, she glanced at her watch and frowned. The local doctor had been with her aunt for well over an hour. No doubt, they had finished discussing her health and had moved onto a totally unrelated topic of conversation. Amelia decided to give the doctor and aunt another few minutes before checking up on them and probably saving the doctor.
Suddenly, there was a flash of lightening followed by a loud rumble. The storm was in deed getting worse. The rain pounded against the window. Amelia was convinced the pane of glass shook from the heavy impact of the rain. The thin glass separated Amelia from the aunt's warm house and the cold chaos of the outdoor.
The doctor cleared his throat to gain Amelia's attention. She stood up slightly flustered, "How is she?"
The doctor smiled, "She'll be fine...but we know how she gets..."
Amelia smiled, "Oh yes! I know from experience...not to rush but how long before she's up and about?" desperately wanting to return back to her academy as soon as possible
"Your aunt is suffering from a bad case of the flu which normally wouldn't worry me but I'm concerned about her body's immune system...she doesn't appear to be fending off the virus very well." He paused, rummaging around his bag and handed Amelia a prescription
"A potion wouldn't speed up her recovery?" hinted Amelia before feeling guilty
The doctor shook his head, "It's best to let this simple virus run its course and ensure she stays hydrated and gets plenty of bed rest...doctors orders." He flashed her an award winning smile
"Fantastic news...well thank you for coming to visit her and on such short notice."
Amelia and the doctor parted ways and she went to check up on her aunt.
She was relieved by the news that her aunt would be fine and the final diagnosis was just a bad case of the flu. Amelia returned to the chair beside the window and watched the rain continuously fall. The sound of the rain, relaxed her mind but her thoughts were another case.
Despite, the positive news about her aunt, she could not help but think about how her deputy headmistress was coping. She was bound by blood to ensure that her aunt was safe and well but she considered Constance as the daughter that she never had, wordlessly adopting the younger witch. She was her responsibility and with the impending date looming closer, no doubt the symptoms were starting to manifest. Time was the enemy and the window of opportunity was fading fast.
Her thoughts left Constance for a brief moment and she began to speculate who was running her academy. Pondering for a moment, she shrugged. No-one was better for the job than her trusted deputy. She could trust the younger woman with her life. Amelia felt her priority shift. A building and its contents could be replaced but her students, who see cared for and her trusted colleagues, held a special place in her heart. They were her extended family.
Nervously, she chewed at a fingernail while her other hand fidgeted with fraying material of the chair. It was either witchy intuition or a maternal instinct but she could sense that something was not quite right.
'Hold on, Constance.' She thought, knowing that she was powerless to do anything
Imogen and Lavina looked at each other while in the staffroom. Both exchanging stories of their own run in with the newly appointed headmistress. Neither of them had seen the strict potions teacher since early that morning.
"She's been in there for hours." stated Lavina, not looking up from her marking
Imogen nodded, "I can't image what she's doing through..." her voice trailed off, not exactly feeling comfortable talking about Mistress Broomhead. If she had taught Constance everything then no doubt she could be eavesdropping in their conversation at this particular moment before appearing out of thin air.
Constance Hardbroom had escaped Hecketty Broomhead for the second time in two days. Now, in the safety of her own room, she practically bolted for the small bathroom. Falling hard to her knees, she clutched the sides of the toilet bowl as her stomach heaved, throwing the little contents into the water below.
She coughed before relaxing against the cool stone wall. Hair loosely unraveled itself from her normal tight bun. Constance used the sleeve to wipe the cold beads of sweat and slowly brought her breathing under control.
Constance felt her jaw tighten, desperately wanting to voice her own opinion to her tutor but only her voice disappeared. Her opinion would only anger the tutor and destroy her seemingly good mood so simply smiled along to her ramblings. Hecketty quickly got distracted and immersed in a conversation with Professor Blackstein. Constance trembled and slowly backed away from both Hecketty and Hector. Her heart raced at the sight of him and unwanted memories rushed back. A hand ran over her abdomen. Her eyes watered. She had to get out of here, the thought of being in the same room of Professor Blackstein made her sick.
Mistress Broomhead frowned against any form of confectionery, claiming to would rot brain cells as well as teeth. The rot had to be stopped!
Constance found a quiet hiding place deep in the kitchens of the college. She knew she would be safe here. She was alone with an entire chocolate cheesecake, her breathing still racing from the very sight from him. Armed with a spoon and stuffed the cake into her mouth. She crammed the sweet goodness into her already full mouth. Soon, the tears started to fall, mixing with the chocolate.
She caught sight of herself. A pained reflection mirrored back and she did not like what she saw. Her eyes looked away from the truth and looked down at herself with shame and guilt. The offending remains of the cake and plate tumbled to the floor and shattered. Constance ran. She ran to the only safe place where no-one would look for her all too busy at the college Christmas party which was in honour of Hecketty and Hector. It was her idea of hell.
Constance knelt down in front of the toilet. She forced two fingers in her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut. She prayed for it to be over.
Constance recovered although still feeling nausea and lightheaded, she ignored the physically signs that her body was screaming out and demanding attention but at this time, she could not afford to raise any suspicions from colleagues especially the acting headmistress.
Constance applied a small amount of lipstick before inspecting her handiwork. The colour was not bright or brash but did add some much needed colour to her natural pale complexion and then smiled at her reflection. Mistress Broomhead had granted Constance a free period for studying, which was unheard of. She had no choice but to allow top student a few hours to study as her presence was required in a meeting and was held by Hector Blackstein, himself.
She was about to reach for a book which saw on the bed when a voice, pierced through the tiny room. Constance jumped in fright before quickly regaining her normal stance, standing to attention as if she were a soldier on parade.
Hecketty appeared from thin air. Her eyes transfixed on the younger witch, she cocked an eyebrow and made a visual inspection. Almost immediately, her wondering, demanding eyes noticed the change in her appearance.
"This is what I get from being so lenient! I granted you free time, to put to good use...for studying and I find you with this," she screeched, angry beyond words
The lipstick disappeared into nothingness, never to be seen again. After dealing with the offending piece of vanity, she turned her attention onto Constance.
"How vile and disgusting, you look like those common Jezebels." She spat in disgust
Constance flinched but did not move, doing everything possible to remain perfectly still, like a statue. The older witch reached out for her face, her fingers curled around her hair, painfully putting at her scalp while her rough thumb grazed over Constance' cheek. Her pale skin, contrast to her own was as soft as silk. Her youthful, innocent complexion had been tainted and ruined by the make up, she dared to wear.
Hecketty felt her eye twitch before she roughly removed the thin layer of make up from her lips. Smudging the once neat application and now looked like a sad clown with the lipstick over her cheeks and chin, messily.
"You are a disgusting girl!" She growled
The comment could not be any further from the truth. Constance was a teenager, if not at the age that some would consider her to be a young adult but Hecketty did not want to acknowledge this fact and constantly treating and talking to her as if she was still a young child.
Staring at herself in the mirror, her eyes looked down at the lipstick in her hand. She knew that Hecketty could not do or say anything. After all she was no longer a student or a child. She had grown up, an adult but still looking at the lipstick, she hesitated and slowly applied the make up to her lips.
'Jezebel' taunted a voice
She ensured that nothing was out of place, everything was perfect and her mask firmly sat back in its original place.
'You can do this! Be brave, be strong.' thought Constance as she took a deep breath and left her room