Chapter Three: Good Intentions
Amelia, Davina and Imogen sat silently around the staffroom table, nursing their now cold cups of tea and shared awkward glances between themselves, biding their time before one of them would volunteer to willingly take initiative.
Amelia folded her glasses; she fumbled nervously with her hands before she cleared her throat, "Constance." She started
Davina interrupted, "Would you look at the time..." she announced in a blurred panic and snatched the music sheets from the table, spilling the contents of her cup but failed to notice and scampered out of the staffroom.
Imogen sighed and rolled her eyes at the aftermath of her colleague, who could be as subtle as a brick at times, granted Constance Hardbroom had the uncanny ability and often the direct cause for Davina's palpitations and jitteriness. Imogen wondered if it was on purpose or if it was the eccentric chanting teacher's nature.
"Perhaps, I'll just head out for my afternoon run." Spoke Imogen, unraveling her headphones.
"It's raining outside." Announced Constance, without even turning around from her work
Imogen shrugged, "A little rain never killed anyone." She replied and left.
Amelia stared out after her colleagues, initially it had been Davina and Imogen that brought up their concerns regarding their colleague to Amelia and now she was left to deal with the issue, it hardy seemed particularly fair but Amelia knew that she would be able to command Constance' attention unlike her colleagues as Constance would easily brush off their concerns about her well-being or simply tell them exactly what they wanted to hear and therefore nothing was resolved, unfortunately for Constance, Amelia could not be swayed so easily.
"Constance, could we have a chat?"
The potion mistress sat at her small desk in the corner of the staffroom and had been working monotonously for the past several hours as she meticulously marked her student's work with her trademark red pen. Amelia noticed the impressive pile of books that remained to be marked.
"I know what you are going to ask and for the record, I'm perfectly fine."
"We're worried and simply have good intentions, besides...you are pushing yourself far too much these past few days. Burning the candle at both ends, again?"
Constance was briefly distracted at the ungodly sight of Mildred Hubble's scribblings that she passed off as handwriting which again, the young student had managed to scrap a pass mark on her work. She sighed loudly, if Mildred could show more commitment and dedication to her potion classes and work like she did with subjects such as chanting and art then Constance would not have to continuously chastise the student or be constantly rewarding her with hundreds of line to be written as punishment for whatever the reason happened to be.
She lifted her head from her work, able to sense Amelia's stare upon her and secretly prayed for the students to start misbehaving or causing trouble with their antics that would take the focus off her and temporally distract Amelia from continuing to pry and worry about her physical and mental well-being. Constance preferred to regulate order and maintain a watchful eye over her students rather than be subjected to the always mothering nature of Amelia.
Constance glanced at her hand that gripped her red marking pen and noticed that her hand was shaking, "I assure you Amelia, I am fine."
Amelia folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, she felt as though she was dealing with an uncooperative and rather stroppy student rather than her deputy headmistress. The rehearsed statement 'I'm fine' subconsciously angered Amelia as it was blatantly obvious to everyone minus Constance herself that she was in fact unwell but refused to acknowledge this.
It was a foreign concept that the omnipotent witch was suffering from a particular resilient cold that slowly began to corrode her military like routine which combined with her usual inability to sleep and relentless pursuit of work and perfection had impacted greatly on her immune system.
"Constance Hardbroom," demanded Amelia
Instantly, Constance abandoned her work and turned in her chair to face Amelia, the edge in her voice commanded attention.
"Do not push me; you're acting like a child."
She raised an eyebrow; it was very seldom for Amelia to raise her voice.
"We have worked together for a considerable amount of time and in that time, I consider you to not only be my faithful deputy headmistress but also a friend and right now I am concerned as are our colleagues." Her features quickly softened
"Amelia..." she started, pushing herself from the chair. Her hand gripped the chair tightly to steady the sudden light-headedness and nausea, she immediately cursed her body for betraying her especially in front of Amelia when she was attempting to persuade the older witch that she was not ill, "I really must protest."
Amelia tightened her folded arms, "Oh really, how so?"
"You are making a mountain out of a mole hill," she paused, "Yes, I will admin that I have not been sleeping partially well as of late but it has never interfered with my ability to educate the girls."
"Alright Constance, humor me for a moment. When did you last eat?"
"I had breakfast!" she announced quickly however she failed to take into consideration what time it was and only added to the escalating concerns mounting against her.
"That was hours ago, Constance. You cannot seriously think that you can continue like this and I would appreciate it if you took a few days off in order to rest."
"Amelia..." she protested.
"I can always make it longer, perhaps a week or more if you continue to resist me on the matter." Threatened Amelia
She signed again and surrendered, "Only for a couple of days...but you know how I personally feel about this."
Unwittingly, her hand reached and massaged her throbbing temple as a fast forming headache demanded instant attention and could not have picked the worst possible timing. Amelia placed a hand on her slender wrist, "I'll make tea then I trust you will go straight to your room and not require an escort to ensure you follow my order?"
"Yes, Amelia." Replied Constance, she recognised that she had been defeated and mentally congratulated Amelia after all she was a worthy adversary.
In the privacy of her room, Constance cradled a glass vial which contained a syrup like potion to swirl within the glassy prison. She debated the need to take the potion which would in essence help her to sleep but also provide her weakened immune system the ability to combat the symptoms of the virus that seemed resistant to the numerous herbal remedies she had previously taken.
Then, her thoughts went to her colleagues and students, what if she was needed? If she were to ingest the potion then she would have relinquished the ability to perform any magic due to the risk of the Foster effect.
The potion left a bitter aftertaste that was offensive. She intently inspected the glass vial however the potion itself was an experimental concoction that she had been working on for some time and had endured weeks of trail and error in order to successful create the potion with the correct balance of ingredients and this was the first official taste of the potion. Constance was confident that the effects of the potion would not leave any lingering side effects.
Her head felt heavy which caused her to sway as she walked to her bed. The effects of the potion started to systematically slow down her body, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes open and maintain an alert mind, as the potential for trouble could arise.