Disclaimer: I don't own The Worst Witch.

A/N: Hey, people! Thank you so much for your reviews on the previous chapter - it was one I was very nervous about posting. :) This is what I came up with earlier when I was on the bus. Not sure when the next shall be up but hopefully it won't be too far away. Also, as a side note, this fic is now officially my longest - both in chapters and word count - and is my best updating record to date! :)

Love In The First 39 Degrees

Chapter 9

Just as she was reaching the end of her sanity over that one vital answer that was needed to complete the cryptic crossword in the paper, her phone buzzed. The little envelope icon in the corner was now flashing furiously away as it alerted her to the fact she had received a text message. Half expecting it to be from her phone company, probably offering her so many free texts if she topped up just one more time, she reached for it very half-heartedly, keeping one eye on her crossword.

One new message: Serge

She couldn't help but feel nervous. After all, it was the first time she had heard from him since their fight earlier in the week, couple that with how strained things had been between them lately, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was the classic 'We need to talk' text and more importantly if it was, how did that make her feel?

Her finger hovered over the button for a few moments, unable to bring herself to press 'read'. Sensing that drawing it out would get her nowhere, she decided to bite the bullet and read the message before she changed her mind again. Almost with trepidation, she opened the message, bracing herself for what it would say.

Hi, Immy. Sorry I was such a prick. Forgive me? Love you. Xxx

Staring at the words in front of her, she wondered what to say back. She had to say something! - thanks to the damn read recipient feature, he would know she had read it. Just as she was about to reply, her phone buzzed again.

One new message: Serge

How is the Ice Queen anyway?

Normally, she would have laughed at his nickname for the witch but now it wasn't so funny. Over the past couple of days she had seen Constance Hardbroom in an entirely different light. One that – had she not seen it with her own eyes – she would have never believed existed. While this bout of flu had physically weakened the witch, it had also revealed an incredibly emotionally vulnerable woman.

One who had clearly been dealt a rough hand in life.

Imogen thought back to the hurt in the witch's voice when she had joked about having drawn the short straw and therefore had to look after her, and – on reflection – she felt awful. It seemed the sorceress had been made to feel as though she was a burden and unwanted her entire life, and now, however inadvertently, she had done the same thing. She desperately wanted to tell the witch it simply wasn't the case but she knew Constance wouldn't believe her.

Truthfully, she had volunteered to stay and keep watch over her.

"What did the doctor say?" Davina asked as soon as Amelia had entered the staffroom, after seeing the doctor out. She wasn't exactly Constance's greatest fan but that didn't mean she wished anything bad to happen to the witch. She respected her and she knew that Cackle's would not be Cackle's without the presence of the powerful – albeit sometimes terrifying – sorceress.

Imogen was very glad that Davina had voiced her question for her. It was one she could not bear to ask herself: her brain fearing the worst and her heart aching at the thought.

"She said that Constance will be fine," Amelia's face broke into a mother's relief, "She's caught that really bad flu bug that has been doing its round recently, that's all."

"Oh that bug! I heard Mildred tell Maud her sister was down with that."

"Whatever you do, Davina, do not tell Constance that."

"Come on, headmistress. Even she can't blame Mildred Hubble for the flu!"

"I wouldn't bet on that," She broke off as she thanked Davina for the cup of tea she had just poured. "As I say, thankfully it's nothing serious and is nothing that a good few days of bed rest shouldn't cure."

Imogen caught Davina's eye at the mere notion of Constance Hardbroom taking bed rest for anything.

"How is she?"

"She's sleeping just now, Imogen; out for the count, bless her.

Amelia took a long sip of tea, her other hand rummaging discreetly through the tin, hoping that no one had stolen her favourite biscuit. "I suppose I had better call Aunt Gertrude and send my apologies."

"She's just broken her hip, Amelia. You can't just cancel on her!"

"I know, I know, but I really wouldn't feel right about leaving Constance on her own, not when she's under the weather as she is…besides, I need to make sure she actually stays in bed and does rest! You both know how stubborn she can be at times."

The expression Davina wore was one of 'Now isn't that the understatement of the century'.

"I'll stay with her."

Imogen heard the words coming out of her own mouth and even she was shocked. In fact, she wasn't sure who was more surprised Davina and Amelia or her.

The room would have fallen into silence if it hadn't been for the chanting mistress, who was now coughing and spluttering, after her Yak's milk had gone down the wrong way, following Imogen's admission.

Even Amelia was gobsmacked.

"You?!," She exclaimed. A tinge of red creeping into her cheeks as she realised how that must have come across, "Sorry, dear, it's just that-" She broke off, wondering how to put her words gently, "You and Constance have never exactly seen eye-to-eye. Besides, aren't you off camping with Serge?"

Imogen shrugged, "Delaying by a few days won't hurt. I'll just explain the situation to him."She casually took a sip of her water, hoping she was coming across more confidently than she felt, "I'm sure he'll understand."

She couldn't help but wonder exactly why she had volunteered. Was it to get out of spending time with Serge, or had she genuinely wanted to help her colleague. Or was there something more to it…?

The witch had smiled…and her heart had fluttered.

As she had stood over Constance, trying to calm her down…she had found a desire to kiss her.

Watching her suffer…she had just wanted to make it all better.

Even before now, that Christmas, she had gone out of her way to track down a copy of the book for her. Her heart bursting at the thought of gifting the sorceress something that now connected a memory the two of them shared.

Imogen finally realised why Alice's Adventures In Wonderland had been the deputy's favourite book as a child: it had allowed her to escape and to lose herself in a magical and mystical land, taking her away from the misery of her own life…

She also had a sneaking suspicion that that book had formed part of Mother-Daughter bonding time.

Separated from her Mother, neglected by her Father, raised by a nanny and god only knows what she had endured while under Heckitty's tutelage.

Imogen's own favourite book from childhood had always been 'The Wizard of Oz' but a close second – a love formed over later years when she would babysit her niece and nephew – had been Roald Dahl's 'Matlida'.

The more she thought about it, there was a shocking similarity of parallels that could be drawn between the book's protagonist and Constance Hardbroom: gifted child, parents who were too wrapped up in their own lives to notice she even existed and a psycho for a teacher. She wondered, briefly, if Heckitty had had some form of Chokey-like device in her office, before deciding that she really did not want to know. The idea alone was frightening.

Matlida had gotten her happy ending but she suspected Constance never had.

It was a sorry tale of a lonely childhood and she felt she was now a little closer to understanding why Constance was the way she was. Why she never let anyone get to close to her, out of a fear that they would abandon her. For the first time since she had met the sorceress, she saw past the bossiness and the cold façade, she saw past the scowling and the sharp tongue. She saw past the powerful front and saw the lost little girl who was in need of saving.

She wanted to be the one who saved her.