Hello readers! Thank you for reading the latest chapter and I hope you will enjoy it. Whatever you may read, I really do love HB as a character and although she has a few...difficult times ahead it is necessary for the plot XD

Enjoy and please let me know what you think :)

Chapter 4

Constance pulled herself from the darkest depths of forceful slumber. As she commanded her reluctant eyes to open her senses screamed back to her, everything she could feel or taste bursting to life within her and overwhelming her body with shock. She could feel the cold stone against her aching head where she had fallen, the taste of blood metallic and repulsive in her mouth; she stole a moment of not quite self pity, but of shame at her own futile weakness. This wasn't who she was, a woman fallen in despair to the ground.

She was supposed to be strong, a powerful witch with the fear and respect of everyone she knew; even those who dared to call themselves her friends. From the beginning of her life until that moment, she had always believed that she was infallible. She saw herself as a force, a woman without the need for emotions or tedious relationships because she only had to rely on herself; others only seemed to hold her back. Now she needed someone's help but that truth, now hollow and meaningless, was her pride, her identity, and she didn't think that she could let it go.

With effort she did not truly possess, Constance pushed her agonised body from the ground biting down hard on her already bleeding lip in desperation, the only thing between her managing to hold it all together or breaking down to cry out in pain she had never thought to be possible.

Her mind dared to flash back to where she had not been in years, in the corner of a darkened room with ceilings so high that it seemed to stare out into the night sky itself. She was young, too young to know why this was happening, but she would soon learn how it had to be. She trembled, quaking as she closed her eyes as though she was a child again and that feigning blindness would banish the demons surrounding her.

Hearing the footsteps growing closer, crisp and clear in the vacant air; no-one was coming to help her, they pretended that they didn't know she was there to try to selfishly save themselves. She heard the muttered words of a spell, a spell she knew from the very first word and her blood ran colder than ice through her veins. Constance knew what was going to happen moments before it did, before the pain took over her body and she fell slowly into the endless chasm of unconsciousness to the sound of her own echoed screams.

Pulling herself back into the uncertain darkness of the present, Constance managed to force herself to stand. Her legs protested, their physical weakness the fatal flaw despite a determined mind which fought for them to try, yet somehow she managed to stagger across the room to a hard wooden chair where she supported herself with what strength she could muster.

Allowing herself only moments to recover, her mind seemed to reset. She denied to herself that anything had happened, told herself that nothing was wrong and ignored the pain which refused to surrender even to her strongest will. Once her legs no longer shook she stood tall and proud again, her pounding head held high and her posture its usual perfection. With the casual flick of her wrist, Constance's hair was pulled back forcefully into a tight braided bun and the cut to her lip vanished; she was the same stoic Miss Hardbroom again, as though nothing had ever happened.

Xxx

Mildred ran down the stairs, the loose plait unable to indefinitely hold her hair in place, which threatened to fall across her face. Despite almost tripping on the penultimate step, Mildred managed to make it to the group of her friends waiting impatiently in front of the staffroom without accident or injury; for her, that was an achievement.

'Sorry,' she panted, trying to catch her breath, 'I had to feed Tabby before I got changed, then everything fell on the floor-'

'It's fine Millie,' Maud laughed, 'we have rather come to expect it.' Mildred gave a rather sheepish smile and tucked the first loose strands of hair behind her ears.

'Come on, we're going to be late,' Jadu warned them, looking at the clock which already betrayed their tardiness. They were about to depart when Enid stopped them.

'Wait,' she said abruptly, turning to Mildred and looking her up and down, 'Mil, where's your number?'

Mildred closed her eyes and let out a sigh. That morning, Miss Drill had gone around the breakfast table giving everyone out their numbers and positions for the tournament instructing them not to lose them; she had placed it on her bedside table where, she suspected, it continued to lie.

'I will be two minutes,' she promised apologetically, running back up the stairs as her friends watched in quiet amusement, shaking their heads. They knew their friend to well to expect her to be two minutes, but felt a loyalty to at least try and wait for her.

Xxx

Constance folded her arms and pictured precisely where she needed to be as she noticed the time glaring at her like a warning light from the clock mounted on her wall. She vanished in her normal fashion, fading into nothingness like a shadow dying in the light; but something was wrong. Her body was being pulled in different directions, the feel of the humid air outside in addition to the cold, stagnant air within the castle a juxtaposition which told her that she was in more than one place at once.

The sensation of being lost, atoms scattered amongst the air and existing beyond possibility in two places at a time was impossible and distressing. Constance focused her energy, trying to manipulate her body into one place as she began to panic. Her instincts were kicking in as she started to suffocate in the space between two existences, neither in one position or the next, wondering darkly whether death could come to a body which had vanished into thin air never to return.

As she thought her mind was beginning to crumble, caught in an endless void for what could have lasted anything from a second to a year, she felt her body shift. Constance fell hard against the stone wall, relieved to be able to feel again yet perturbed by what had taken place. She managed to stay upright, leaning heavily against the castle wall with little stopping her from crumbling to the ground.

She tried, fighting every human instinct, to stand up straight but her head was no longer simply a haze but a thick fog. Her eyes refused to stay open let alone to acknowledge the now blurred visions of her surroundings and her head felt as if it weighed more than the rest of her body. It was not just pain now, but a force pulling her down and she could do nothing to stop it. Constance did not know where it was dragging her, or what would happen; all she could think about was the complete abyss of darkness and the awakening of memories that she thought she had buried.

Feeling a tickle beneath her nose, she raised her hand to her face subconsciously and pulled her eyes open to see the red rubies of blood now tainting her fingertip. At any other time, she would have dismissed it, but somehow she felt a difference in the icy scarlet liquid which told her undeniably that something was wrong. As soon as she felt the blood trickling like a raindrop down her face, Constance felt light headed and there was little that she could do to stop herself from sliding down the wall.

Xxx

Mildred walked quickly down the corridor, trying to reassure herself that she had not forgotten anything else and that she would get to the tournament almost on time. She came to the last corner before the staircase but stopped abruptly in her tracks, stifling a gasp as she saw Miss Hardbroom appear from nowhere as she so often seemed to. She stepped forward, already opening her mouth for an apology and a quick excuse when she noticed how her potions mistress had turned the colour of pure snow on a winter's day, the colour which was unnatural even for the sombre complexion of a corpse.

She watched in muted horror as the deputy headmistress reached to her bloodied nose and sank, fighting what appeared to be an agonising battle as she crumpled as though in slow motion to the floor, her hands like claws fighting yet failing to keep any hold on the stone wall. Mildred couldn't speak, couldn't breathe as her heart refused to beat in utter shock of what her brain perceived. It wasn't true, she told herself as she backed away, it had to be someone playing a trick.

Miss Hardbroom was her form mistress, the witch for whom she held such fear and yet such high regard for her persistence to at least try to make her into a better student; she couldn't fall like that, like a woman who was sinking into the depths of hell with nothing left with which to fight. That wasn't the person she knew and no matter how much she resented the bullying or the punishment, Mildred would have given anything to never have witnessed what she could only see as blasphemy to a good name.

Her heart pummelled her chest as she took a cautious step towards her form mistress. Her mind was shouting at her, every sense she had telling her to run away; but her warm heart ruled triumphant. Mildred couldn't leave knowing what she had left behind and could not bear to think what might happen if she did not at least try to help.

But you hate her, she's never done anything to help you.

It was a small voice, a cowardly voice of doubt which whispered to Mildred as she edged closer. Had she believed it, she could have left without the need for guilt, walking away as though nothing had happened; but she didn't believe it. As much as she wanted to acknowledge that Miss Hardbroom in some dark way deserved what she was getting, something in Mildred's mind would not allow her to accept it.

Somehow, deep down, she had already guessed that the potions mistress had not always been cold hearted. She knew without the need to be told that there was someone beneath the terrifying demeanour who was in her own way trying to help Mildred; she was not simply cold, nor was she as mean as she liked others to think. In that moment, the girl saw Miss Hardbroom as though in a new light; the veil, for a second, was lifted, and she felt truly sad that she had so misjudged her.

Standing beside the fallen deputy headmistress, Mildred knelt unsurely on the cold floor and tried to stop her mind from racing beyond her control. Truthfully, she did not have the faintest clue of what to do, but she could feel the immediacy of the situation to the point of a danger she could not even admit to herself.

Mildred reached for Miss Hardbroom's arm to check for a pulse, taking the thin and bony hand in her own. The flesh was so white, so without life that she could not help but feel slightly nauseous. Placing two fingers on Miss Hardbroom's wrist, she tried to find the weak thud of blood passing through her arteries. Mildred looked at Miss Hardbroom's chest to see if she was breathing, but any colour which had remained drained from her expression as she noticed that it was not rising and falling as it should. Her face was peaceful, emitting an almost ethereal pearly glow; she appeared more close to death than to life.

Unable to find a pulse, Mildred began to panic. Tears of confusion and frustration welled in her eyes as she tried frantically to think of what to do.

'M-Miss? Miss H-Hardbroom?' she whispered, her voice cracking with anxiety. Mildred reached out a hand which touched gently against her form mistress' shoulder when she received a shock, like a charge of electricity which caused her to gasp and pull back her hand. Looking in awe at her fingers, she saw a few bright red sparks crackle for a second before fading and Mildred stared at Miss Hardbroom, not sure how to react or what, if anything, it meant.

Mildred didn't know what made her do it. She was scared, more scared than she had ever been before in her life, and she felt as though her body was acting for her as her mind was haze of confusion and emotion. Rising to her feet, still cradling her stinging hand, she backed away and half ran to the other set of stairs wiping at the tears in her eyes.

Xxx

Constance woke for the second time that day with her broken body curled into an unnatural position on the floor. She could barely move, her arms too weak to do more than lift her a few inches from the ground and shaking dangerously as she tried. It couldn't go on. She could feel her magic hissing and crackling within her, firing up as her last resort; she suspected it was the only reason she was conscious.

Her arms gave way and she crashed once more to the ground, pain coursing through her ribs as they made contact with the unyielding stone. Constance shifted her hand and pointed her casting fingers, already feeling the energy preparing to dispel into the air. She watched as a glass appeared, filling with dark red liquid and sighed; she hadn't wanted for it to come to this. With tremendous effort, she reached for the glass and put it to her lips, forcing down every last drop until she felt it begin working.

In moments, she was able to stand and vanished the glass without a thought. She was herself again, at least for now, and she folded her arms to dematerialise into the ether once more.

Xxx

Mildred reached the bottom of the stairs and found her friends, trying once more to catch her breath.

'Millie, are you all right?' asked Maud concernedly, noticing how her friend had gone a shade paler and her eyes were bright with what she could only perceive to be fear.

'Fine,' Mildred lied less than convincingly, 'just took a while that's all. Shall we go?' Had there been more time, Maud would have asked what was truly wrong but as it stood, they were already more than late.

As they ran outside, Mildred could not shake the broken imagine of her form mistress from her mind. She considered going back, or at least telling someone, but she didn't think that she could find the words. Everything was happening so fast that she felt like she was being left behind, the world spinning so quickly beneath her feet that she needed to run to stay on top. Her eyes darted across the courtyard, longing to see Miss Hardbroom watching her with a disapproving stare as she walked in late; but they saw nothing. Her heart sank, knowing that she should have done everything differently.

'Mildred Hubble, are you under the impression that everyone here is obliged to wait for you and your friends to make an appearance?' The tone was cold and sharp as always, ringing through the open air with an unquestionable authority. Mildred's head snapped towards where Miss Hardbroom had just materialised and she was struck speechless. The woman who had seemed dying moments before was standing with her head held high as though nothing had happened; you couldn't have guessed that anything was wrong even if you were looking for there to be.

'M-Miss I...you're...' Miss Hardbroom rolled her eyes.

'Just get ready, Mildred!' She ran off to join her team and tried to think nothing more of what she had seen.

Constance watched Mildred, wondering if she had seen something that she shouldn't have. Her thoughts, however, were interrupted by the headmistress who beckoned her over to the chairs where the staff were to be seated. Without another thought, she walked confidently to the chair beside Miss Cackle and sat down, ignoring a niggling pain in her temple.

'Cutting it a bit fine there Constance,' Amelia remarked. She didn't know why, there was nothing to suggest as such, but something felt out of place; something she could not quite put her finger on.

'I had work to finish,' replied Constance curtly, resenting any suggestion that she had been purposefully late. Amelia thought it best, noticing a distance in her deputy's stare, to back away; aggravating Constance Hardbroom in one of her darker moods was counter-productive, doing more harm than good. Somewhere deep down, Amelia could see a fragile ego which when punctured needed delicate repair; if she was honest, the headmistress considered this to be all that Constance truly had.

Feeling the sense of unease, the tension in the air, Constance shifted uncomfortably. She hated being watched, a sensation she had grown to hate over the past two weeks, especially when it was by those she knew. Concern for me is futile they should know that by now, Constance thought with frustration. Normality and routine; such simple things she had treasured throughout her life and wished to know again as her life seemed to be teetering on the brink of catastrophe.

Xxx

The first game began, though the deputy headmistress was taking little notice of what was taking place. She saw blurs of red and purple, heard cheers of delight and groans of misfortune, yet she felt as though she was watching from a great distance. Everything seemed muted, the beating of her own heart louder even than Miss Drill's whistle which sounded through the air like a call to war.

Constance felt disconnected, only fully aware of her own body and a strange and distant presence which she could sense, not too far away from the castle and waiting for something. She had always been able to feel things, disturbances or forces foreign to normality, and whoever or whatever this was it was new and unstable – and angry.

Without warning, the pain which had once been no more than a pin prick in her temple erupted like an uncontrollable force of nature, enveloping her head in a bubble of agony. This shouldn't be happening, she thought, it can't be. The potion she had taken was powerful, enough to last hours if not days; yet she could feel her body failing once more, her heart racing and no depth of breath enough to satisfy her lungs.

A weight which seemed to be a thousand bricks was pressing against her chest, pain like fire radiating through her body and searing deep into her soul. It took only seconds for the rest of the world to melt away, a distant dream as she descended into darkness. Constance tried to call upon her magic, her only strength, but it was out of reach and a source of power whatever was happening to her prevented her from controlling.

Please

She thought in desperation,

Please, not now, not here where everyone can watch me fall. I cannot die, please don't let me die.

It felt wrong, begging for her life to a force which probably did not exist; but she knew that her life was hanging by the thinnest thread. It was against everything she had ever believed, the ultimate weakness; she had always thought that if death was to greet her then she would accept it nobly and leave with all of the dignity she could manage. But Constance could no longer feel her heart beating, nor her chest rising in breath; all that she could feel was the fire of pain and it felt as though it was going to take her, whether she objected or complied.

She felt a hand touch her arm and her eyes opened.

'Constance, are you all right?'

Blinking slightly in the brilliant light of day, Constance looked around and saw the worry on Miss Cackle's fraught face. The game was still going on, as if nothing had happened, but the headmistress was looking at her as though she knew more than she could possibly know about what had taken place and Miss Bat's eyes darted once too often in her direction.

'Fine, Miss Cackle,' she managed, though her throat was dry.

She couldn't explain it. One minute she had been sure that she was on the brink, begging like a shameful prisoner for her life, and now she was back with nothing but the haunting memories of what she could only call the path to hell.

'You're so pale,' Amelia whispered, her eyes bright with questions and the need to mother and to care. She could see the milky white skin had been drained of life, the scars of pain inflicted by her body just evident on her otherwise perfect face. The headmistress saw in that face where beauty could have presided, in the porcelain skin and enchanting brown eyes; but there were scars far deeper and older than the ones which she could see. There was a twitch in her eye, a hesitancy in her speech which spoke of darker times in her past and emotional wounds which may never truly heal.

'It's...just hot out here,' replied Constance vaguely. In truth, she could feel the heat burning against her skin more than it ever had before. Even the smouldering smoke which rose from a bubbling cauldron felt cool to her, though just sitting there now was almost unbearable. She felt a sudden rush of sadness, an emotion as alien to her as the weakness quickly taking over her body, at how she seemed to be failing. Everything was difficult, every time something passed another problem took its place and it was exceeding frustration to the point of depression. Constance had always been in control, and now that she wasn't, now that something she couldn't understand held her fate in its hands, she had no idea what to do.

Miss Cackle looked almost pitifully at the younger woman, her eyes unable to conceal the lies which betrayed a suffering she could not understand. It was not hot in the outside air; most of the girls were wearing their jumpers and still they shivered from the damp cold air. She knew, without question, that something was extremely wrong, but before she could fuss and be denied the help she would offer with selfless care, she had another question playing on her mind.

'Constance?' Amelia asked tentatively.

'Yes,' replied Constance, her voice tired and lacking in the conviction it had held for so long without question.

'You muttered something before and I...it didn't seem to make any sense.' Constance stiffened, wondering what her dazed mind had betrayed during her incapacitation.

'What was it?' she inquired, trying to remain calm despite her pounding heart.

'I think it was a name,' Miss Cackle began.

'Adelina.'

More to come soon, hope it wasn't too bad, and hopefully at least half a chapter's respite for poor HB; sorry, I had to inflict disaster!

*Dares to point out very close and helpful review button...*