'Six hours on the weekends? Don't treat yourself or anything' said Imogen sarcastically.

Amelia looked over at the newspaper and frowned.

'Some people need less sleep.'

Imogen wasn't buying it.

'Everyone needs more sleep and not supplement their systems with wide awake potion. It's like drugging yourself. Four hours on the weekdays? How is that normal?'

Amelia rustled the paper and finished the crusts from her cheese toastie.

'I'm going out for a run' Imogen announced.

More rustling.

'Just a moment.'

Amelia put down the newspaper.

'I'd like to explain why Constance's sleeping habits are the way they are.'

Imogen dropped back into the chair with interest.

'I'm sure you are aware that Miss Broomhead used to be Constance's secondary school teacher.'

Imogen shuddered at the thought of that harpy.

'She took a special interest in Constance for seven years. Groomed her with methods nobody would call ethical even decades ago. It is now called abuse. That woman is dangerous. When Constance saw her chance to go to Weirdsister College, she clutched it like a lifeline. Even now, she's used to sleeping less and using a liberal use of the potion. I have helped her curb it somewhat over the years so it is at an acceptable level.'

'She was addicted to it?'

Imogen was astounded.

'Yes. It took years for her to undo the havoc Miss Broomhead wrecked upon her. Her system was not coping well. I took it upon myself to help her through it, step by step. Physically she had to wean herself off the potion to a healthier dose and mentally she needed to unlearn the fear. She is too used to keeping vigilant during the night. She now fills the spare hours doing other things that help her to destress, organising the potions cupboard, working out schedules and gathering resources. She takes half an hour off each evening to join Morgana in sitting and staring out of the window to watch the dusk. I know she seems a little too uptight about all sorts of things but you must remember, she is prone to stress and sometimes it doesn't take much to trigger her memories. She needs schedule and routine even now. It is the way she's been wired from an incredibly young age, not helped by her school years. Sometimes she overreacts to situations. The fear is always stored at the back of her mind somewhere. That is enough for anyone to cope with, don't you think?'

Imogen didn't know what to say.

'It has taken a long time to get to the point where she sleeps in on the weekends. It may not seem like much to us. But for her, it is light years away from where she used to be. And I never want to see her go back to how she was before.'

Imogen nodded and acquiesced that she understood. There was nothing more she could say. She went for her run, troubled by the thought of a young Miss Hardbroom being tormented and held in an iron grip in her tender years.

May thunderbolts and lightning strike that harpy down, she thought angrily. From now on she'd be quieter when clattering past Miss Hardbroom's door in the morning. It was the least she could do.