Thanks to Chrissiemusa, LongVodka (love the name, btw) and NCD for their comments, particularly the latter! Please do keep those comments coming, and I'll start being more conscientious about replying individually. Thanks again to CirqueduGleek for looking over this chapter!

Just on a sidenote, I don't like the new FFN user panel thingy. I'm a geek, but even I find it a tad over-complicated. Much prefer the simplicity of the old one.

And we're off…

CHAPTER THREE

As the days passed, the victims of the epidemic began to slowly recover their physical strength, although their magical powers remained in abeyance. To make matters worse, the temperature outside started to plummet as autumn turned to early winter, but even the rimed frost could not compete with the icy atmosphere within the castle itself.

It could be felt all the way down from Miss Cackle's office, where the Head and her Deputy were nothing but exquisitely polite to each other, to the little first years. The latter group had taken to playing 'Unforgivables' in their free time, secure in the knowledge that their lack of magic ensured that no-one would actually be harmed. All the same, just pretending to cast curses such as the Killing Curse, or the torture curse, Crucio, had an impact, and before long even the youngest students had taken to arguing as fiercely as their elders.

xxx

'You've got to do something, Miss Cackle!' Miss Drill insisted, some ten days after her attempted argument with Miss Hardbroom in the staffroom. Afternoon tea had ended, and by now all the girls should be sitting in their form rooms and getting on with their prep. 'The girls are at each other's throats, and they're becoming absolutely impossible to teach!'

Miss Cackle eyed her over the top of glasses that were, for once, perched on her nose. 'They're teenage girls, Imogen, and most of them are still feeling the effects of the epidemic-'

'Oh, that epidemic!'

Amelia pushed her glasses up her nose. 'Yes, the epidemic. We can't discount its impact just because you and I have been fortunate enough to escape, more or less.'

Imogen flung herself down on the nearest chair and slumped, crossing her arms. Amelia hid a smile; at this moment, Imogen did not seem so very much older than their pupils.

'Give them time,' she counselled.

It was the wrong thing to say. Imogen bounced up off the chair and began to pace the floor energetically. Amelia winced for the rug under the younger woman's feet – an inheritance from Great-Great-Great-Great Granny Cackle, one of the few items of any value within the castle.

'Time? Miss Cackle, you should be thanking your lucky stars that this epidemic has removed everyone's magic. If you'd heard some of the things the girls have been saying to each other-!' Miss Drill shivered. 'There's a genuine vindictiveness there, and – and it frightens me, Amelia.'

She leaned over the desk, almost invading Amelia's personal space. 'In all honesty, if this goes on I wouldn't be surprised if there was a tragedy once everything goes back to normal. I heard Fenella curse Griselda yesterday – and it wasn't done idly, either. Fenella and Griselda!' She was clearly breathless at the thought.

Amelia folded her hands on her desk and frowned. Teenage spats were one thing, but the thought of Fenella Feverfew and Griselda Blackwood at odds was so alien to the status quo that it pointed to the presence of something more than a simple illness at work – even assuming their illness could be considered 'simple'. She looked at the Games mistress – the one teacher who seemed to be able to move amongst the pupils almost as one of themselves – and studied her, taking in the wild blonde crop and anxious blue eyes.

'Anyone else?' she prompted. Her mind went to another inveterate band – that of Mildred Hubble and her cronies. 'What about the Third years?'

Apparently relieved that she was being taken seriously, Imogen dropped onto the hard wooden seat that faced the desk, placed there by Miss Hardbroom for the use of miscreants.

'Mildred and Maud are continuing much as usual,' she began. 'Ditto Ruby and Jadu. Ethel's been out of the running, thank goodness. Enid –'

'Is hunting with Drusilla Paddock,' Amelia supplied softly, having noticed this for herself.

'And doing her level best to turn the others into permanent enemies,' Miss Drill agreed with a sigh. She leaned one elbow on the table and disconsolately propped her chin on her hand, staring blankly out of the window behind Amelia's left shoulder.

The Headmistress started to fidget, guiltily aware that the girls were not alone in disputing amongst themselves. 'We can't do anything about the girls, Miss Drill,' she said softly. 'Not when we're being as bad as they are.'

Imogen stiffened instantly. 'If you mean Constance Hardbroom –'

'I do.'

Imogen gave another sigh, a gusty one that made the untidy heap of papers on Miss Cackle's desk rustle uneasily. 'She should apologise to you,' she said pointedly. 'We weren't the ones being rude.'

Amelia stretched out her hands and studied them. They were short and stubby, increasingly veined with age, but they were capable. No matter how it might appear to others, she knew that the reins of Cackle's Academy remained firmly in her hands, and not the slimly elegant ones of her deputy. And although Constance had now practically abandoned her wheelchair, she still remained comparatively frail.

She looked up, her decision made; it was time to break this silly freeze between Cackle's senior staff. 'Imogen, go and find Constance, and ask her to come to me. It's nearly supper, and I'd like to see Constance eat a proper meal for once. Besides, we'd better put our own house in order before we can do anything with the girls.'

Imogen rolled her eyes, no doubt anticipating an acerbic response to Amelia's request, but Miss Cackle noted how the lines of strain on the younger woman's face eased as she left the room. Clearly, Imogen was relieved that some action was being taken.

Amelia felt her own heart lift as she pulled a stack of unopened post towards her. She might as well look as if she was doing something useful before being faced with her relentlessly efficient deputy. As she ran a fingernail under the lip of the top envelope to prise it open, she began to hum. Perhaps now that they'd taken the first step, things would start to go right.

xxx

Meanwhile, Sybil Hallow ran through the winding school corridors, tears flowing freely as she went. Not that anyone paid much attention; before she'd been in the school a week she'd become famed as the First year who could turn on the waterworks at the drop of the proverbial hat. An extra year had not changed that, but at this point in time the Second year felt that, for once, she had good reason for tears. And she was running straight towards the one person who had shown her a consistent, if exasperated, kindness.

She burst into the Third's form-room, the door bouncing back against the wall with a crash, and – not unnaturally- attracting the attention of everyone in the room as they put their books away and awaited the supper bell.

'It's just the crybaby again,' Drusilla said with a roll of her pale eyes. Beside her, Enid snickered.

Sybil ignored them, for Mildred and Maud were coming up to her, and she gave a further blustery sob when she saw the concern in their eyes.

'Whatever's the matter now, Syb?' Maud demanded briskly.

Mildred patted her on the shoulder. 'It can't be that terrible,' she observed sympathetically.

'That's all you know,' Sybil wailed, shoving several leaves of Hallow-monogrammed paper into the elder girl's hand. 'Just look!'

Mildred exchanged a quick glance at her friend before she did as she was bid, her warm brown eyes scanning the two sheets with a rapidity that would have astonished her form mistress. When she reached the end, she returned the papers to their owner, too surprised to say anything.

'See?' Sybil said, dissolving into renewed sobs.

Maud pulled at Mildred's arm. 'What is it? What did it say, Millie?'

'Mr Hallow says he's going to take Syb and Ethel away,' Mildred responded. 'He doesn't think Cackle's is an ideal place for – what was it? "Pureblood witches of impeccable breeding who should have a bright future ahead",' she quoted.

Maud wrinkled her short nose. 'What a horrid snob.'

Sybil sat down on one of the desks and planted her feet on the chair, elbows on knees, and chin on hands. 'That's just Daddy for you,' she said dismally. 'But that's not the worst of it!' She lifted her head and stared at the two older girls, every line of her figure exuding tragedy. 'He wants to get us a governess! A governess! Can you imagine anything more dire than being home alone and doing lessons with Ethel!' And she began to wail again.

'Isn't Ethel too ill to be moved?' Mildred asked abruptly. 'Drusilla's always telling us about the projectile vomiting thing.'

Sybil gave vent to an indescribable sound, somewhere between a laugh, a sob, and a snort. 'Ethel's never sick,' she declared to her sister's astounded form-mates. 'If she's being that sick she's doing it deliberately, and for a reason. In fact,' she bit off, 'I wouldn't be surprised if this is all Ethel's doing!'

Maud's gingery eyebrows shot up so that they disappeared under her deep fringe. 'The epidemic?'

'No-o-o,' Sybil howled. 'Writing to Daddy and asking to be brought home.' Her eyes popped open, suddenly shrewd behind their veil of tears. 'How else would he know about – about, well, everything that's been happening here lately? You know Old Cackle told us to keep it quiet.'

The two Third years exchanged a glance of realisation.

'Oh, no,' Maud breathed, triggering a puzzled look from the younger girl.

Mildred's eyes were wide. 'Your father's on the Board,' she reminded Sybil.

Sybil stared at them for a long moment before starting to cry again. These tears were different; they were not the loud, angry tears of childhood, but softer, older, a recognition that something had shifted. 'She's done it, hasn't she,' she muttered before raising worried eyes to her two older friends. 'Ethel's set something in motion, whether she meant to or not, and there's nothing any of us can do to stop it!'

xxx

When preparation in the Great Hall ended, Miss Hardbroom made her slow way back to the haven that was her potions lab, leaning heavily on the sticks that the school's caretaker, Frank Blossom, had fashioned for her. They were tiring to use, for Frank's carpentering skills were as limited as his mechanical abilities, and one stick was a good two inches shorter than the other, leaving Constance feeling permanently off-balance. All the same, it was better than the indignity of the wheelchair, so she kept quiet and carried on, fiercely determined to avoid asking for help from her colleagues if she possibly could.

Now as she leaned back against the lab door to close it, she gave a sigh of relief that she would allow no-one else to see, and closed her eyes for a second. They opened again immediately, for Constance hated to display weakness, even when she was alone. She set her teeth and made her way up the classroom before sinking down into her chair, exhausted. She stared at the jar before her and debated taking another dose of Wide Awake Potion before pushing it aside. Thus far it had failed to work, and she did not think it would suddenly become efficacious. Besides, she had a sneaking suspicion that the magic in the potion meant that it would only work on a magical being, and Constance was miserably aware that at this time she could barely even be described as a witch.

It was enough to give her an entire new appreciation for the Muggle Games mistress. Indeed, she mentally winced as memory supplied instances of condescending remarks, barbed witticisms, and sharp comments aimed at the younger woman; really, Imogen had been quite tolerant! No wonder she had finally exploded ten days ago during Constance's altercation with Amelia.

Although Constance had certainly paid for that, she thought ruefully. She had always prided herself on her ability to live without other people's approval, but the past ten days had been a strain. She had never realised how much she appreciated Amelia's gentle smile or never failing concern until those things were replaced with strict formality; never appreciated how Amelia's insistence on using Constance's first name was a reminder that she was more than her teaching persona might indicate.

Yet she could not change; as she had told Mildred the year before, she had been dancing too long to one tune to learn any other. And if her magic did not return…

She was jolted out of her dark thoughts by the sound of the door opening, and she glanced up to see Imogen Drill's head peak cautiously into the room.

Their eyes met across the classroom, but neither spoke.

Eventually, Constance huffed. 'Was there something you wanted, Miss Drill?'

'Can I come in?'

Constance rolled her eyes at the idiocy of the question. 'Unless you have lost the use of your legs, I am sure you can.'

Imogen looked confused. 'What?'

'Never mind,' Constance said wearily. 'Come in, please.'

The rest of Imogen entered. She kicked the door shut behind her and Constance winced, but forbore to say anything, waiting with what patience she could muster until her colleague was standing on the other side of her desk.

There was an awkward silence.

'Miss Cackle needs you in her office,' Imogen told her abruptly.

Constance raised an eyebrow. 'Now?'

It was Imogen's turn to roll her eyes. 'Of course, now!'

The two women glared at each other; polar opposites who would always clash.

Constance took a breath, more worried by the summons than she cared to show. 'Has something happened?' she asked as she slowly levered herself to her feet.

The response was a rather odd smile. 'Just a little fence mending,' and Imogen turned and left, this time closing the door behind her gently.

Constance frowned as she watched her go, her heart rate escalating slightly. It could not be that simple. Nothing was ever that simple, even with Amelia.

xxx

By the time she reached Amelia's office, Constance's legs were shaking from the exertion of forcing her body to move across the school so quickly. She rapped on the door, her customary decisive knock, and opened it at once before Amelia was able to speak.

'Miss Cackle,' she began once she was in and seated, with the door safely closed against pitchers large and small. 'I –' She broke off as she took in the blankness of her employer's expression, and all of Constance's misgivings returned in full force. She pulled herself up, straight and stoic. 'What has happened?'

'Constance,' Amelia said, and something twisted inside Constance relaxed at the sound of her name. 'I'm sorry. I sent for you to that we might – er – have a nice relaxing meal together and – er – put the unpleasantness of the past week behind us, but, um…'

'But what, Miss Cackle?'

Amelia raised her head, and Constance's worry went up a notch as she absorbed the Headmistress's expression. Amelia looked … shocked, and perhaps frightened.

Constance dug the fingernails of one hand into the other, the discomfort keeping her alert and focused.

'Brace yourself, my dear,' Amelia warned, peering over the top of her glasses in that vague manner that Constance usually found so exasperating. 'We are being faced with what I believe the girls would call a – a double whammy.'

Constance swallowed, wishing Amelia would just get on with it. 'And?' she prompted pointedly.

In answer, Amelia slid two sheaves of paper before her deputy, neatly – and uncharacteristically – bound together by paper clips. The first page of one sheaf was headed by the monogram of the Hallow family, whilst the other bore the insignia of the Witches' Teaching Council.

Constance scanned them quickly, her dark eyes zooming backwards and forwards at an uncanny speed as she flipped through them. Once or twice they faltered, but she did not stop until she had read the two letters in their entirety. Then she returned them to Amelia with careful delicacy, as if they were dangerous devices that might explode at any second.

'I see,' she said frostily.

Amelia pulled her glasses off her nose and absently let them drop so that they dangled on their cord about her neck. Constance noted the movement out of years of habit; eventually Amelia would demand to know where she'd put the dratted things.

'Say something,' Amelia begged, her nervousness clearly evident.

'Say what, Headmistress?' Constance snapped. 'It would seem there is nothing to say.' She glared at the sheaves of paper. 'It has all been neatly tied up and there is nothing we can do about it!' There was a slight tremble as she finished, and Constance knew from the quick glance Amelia sent her that it had not gone unnoticed.

'Mr Hallow withdrawing his daughters would not be a huge problem in and of itself,' the Headmistress said thoughtfully. 'However, his position on the Board makes it problematic. They are like sheep; where he goes, others follow.' Her lips pursed tightly, a sure sign that she was troubled.

Constance sniffed. 'Yes, not one of them has a mind they can call their own,' she said disapprovingly. 'Clearly, the full truth of our epidemic has leaked, and we may need to deal with the removal of many more students before we're done.'

'Personally, I'll be glad to see the back of Ethel Hallow,' Miss Cackle stated firmly. 'She may be good for our league tables, but I'd bet that she's the source of the leak. I'm sure she didn't entirely intend to be malicious,' Amelia continued magnanimously when Constance tried to protest, 'but if she did write to her father and tell him everything, that was nothing more or less than flagrant disobedience!'

Constance sighed. 'Regardless, the deed is done and nothing is to be gained from wailing over it at this point. The real problem we must face is that,' and she pointed with a stiff finger that shook only slightly at the second sheaf of papers. 'How are we to survive an inspection - with Mistress Broomhead, of all people - when we are almost entirely devoid of magic?'

xxx

I tried to resist the lure of Evil Broomhead, but it was too strong. Besides, I rather enjoy writing snark, and there should be plenty of opportunity for that. How's it going so far? Too slow? Too fast? Too episodic? Hit the button and reveal all!