Disclaimer: I don't own The Worst Witch

A/N: Hello. It has been a while, I know, but I have finally gotten around to updating.

Thank you to everyone for their reviews/comments/follows thus far.

Just a little note: the apple thing is something that I borrowed from the TV show "Charmed' but, from what I have googled, lol, it does appear to hold a level of truth.

As I am not a practising witch, I have just run with the "Charmed" version while adding in a few bits of my own.

:)

Goodbye Kiss

Chapter Six: Like A Diamond Snake In A Black Sky

Her dark eyes moved from the clock to the door and back again, her heart continuing to grow heavier as the seconds innocently ticked by without a care in the world. The wall clock suddenly chimed, an annoying cuckoo – courtesy of one of Davina Bat's Mongolian souvenirs – jumping out from nowhere, noisily signalling that yet another hour had passed and further driving reality home.

She didn't know why she was even surprised.

It was just another hour.

Another hour where the outcome had ended in nothing but disappointment, another hour spent with Imogen avoiding her; another cold, lonely hour spent in the knowledge that all she could do was drive people away.

Three weeks had now passed since that disastrous exchange between them and the ice had yet to thaw but she still found herself in the staffroom early each morning, hoping against hope that the gym-mistress would put in an appearance as used to be their daily routine; it was a dance in which both had partook but neither had outwardly admitted to participating.

She never did.

In fact, since that morning, Imogen had barely been in the school at all: she would teach her classes for the day and then go off to spend all her spare time with Serge. Not that it made any real difference – since that morning, Imogen had been colder with her than ever before.

She did not care for it.

Sure, she was an expert at shutting the world out, but when it came to the world shutting her out; it was a completely different story.

It reminded her all too well of her childhood and that was not a time she cared to dwell on. She had always been the outsider; she was always the one left out in the cold. She was the one who was never good enough. She was the one who was always second best, sometimes even third. Once upon a time, she had come so close to grasping at happiness with someone she thought had truly loved her, but it had been all been a lie.

Of course it had.

Who would want to be shackled to someone like her?

As the menagerie of bird sounds died away to nothing, a new hour now upon them, the tall witch bit back a sigh. She should have been pleased; clearly Imogen had gotten the message...

So why did she wish that she hadn't?

'Fire, girl. You're playing with fire!'

She was so lost in her uncharacteristic moment of self-pity that she did not register the footsteps as they entered the room, a soft voice in her ear causing her to inwardly jump.

"Good morning, Constance."

"Good morning, Miss Cackle. Miss Bat," she replied, surveying her colleagues with a polite nod of her head, already mentally preparing her excuses so she could leave the room as quickly as possible.

"Sit down, dear and have some breakfast."

"No, thank you, headmistress. I am not hungry."

Amelia Cackle internally sighed: she had been expecting as much. Food and Constance Hardbroom was not a match made in heaven. The younger witch rarely showed any interest in food and, where she possibly could, would skip mealtimes altogether, surviving instead on strong tea, wide-awake potion and – if the past two weeks were anything to go by – wine! She had not yet said anything, unsure as to how exactly to broach the subject, but it was something she had resolved to keep a close eye on, her mothering instincts again calling out to the woman she considered a daughter.

"Come now," she coaxed gently, "you can't start the day on an empty stomach."

"Miss Cackle is right, Constance. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I know that a full breakfast always helps me to prepare for the day ahead and to hit those extra high notes!"

The headmistress gave a brief smile. Though Davina had her heart in the right place, she did not personally think that the prospect of the school roof losing even more tiles was a good advertisement in encouraging the consumption of breakfast.

Despite her best protests, the potions mistress felt herself being guided towards the staffroom table. The elderly witch ladled some porridge into a bowl for her, taking extra care not to overload the plate so as not to overwhelm the witch.

She eyed the bowl warily, knowing there was no way she was getting out of the staffroom. Reluctantly picking up her spoon, trying to ignore the amount of sugar the chanting teacher was dousing her own porridge in; she took the tiniest of mouthfuls, aware that all eyes were on her.

It was delicious!

She could not even remember when she had last eaten – it was definitely a couple of days ago at least, maybe even more. She had skipped dinner last night in favour of a bottle of red as she had cried herself to sleep...again.

"No sign of Imogen?"

Her ears pricked up at that point as she discreetly tuned back into the conversation that was taking place around her.

Amelia shook her head, "She's out with that young man of hers, Davina. What's his name again?" Though the headmistress never forgot a face, it was safe to say that names were not her strong suit – sometimes, she struggled to remember her own let alone anyone else's!

"Serge," Davina replied almost instantly, clapping her hands in an excited fashion as she began to gush about the "golden couple", "Oh, they are just love's young dream and they make such a wonderful couple. In fact, I see a wedding on the horizon and I am never wrong about these things.

At the "W" word, the potions mistress felt her stomach lurch, what little appetite she had disappearing fast.

She was unsure if her reaction was purely down to her own experience with weddings or at the thought of Imogen marrying Serge.

It was the latter.

She had hoped that if she could push the gym-mistress far enough away, then she could push aside her own feelings for the blonde, but it seemed there was no escaping them and despite her vow, despite everything she had promised she would never do again, they were growing stronger by the day

She couldn't help herself.

She had to say something.

"With all due respect, I think you're being a little premature, Miss Bat. They've barely known each other for five minutes."

"Time doesn't matter when there is love in the world, Miss Hardbroom! And I know for a fact that he is her true love!" Between mouthfuls of porridge, she gleefully declared that it was "written in the stars" and was also Imogen's "destiny"!

The deputy head rolled her eyes, "And you know this how? I would hardly call the horoscopes in those nonsensical magazines you will insist on buying a reliable source of fact to base one's entire life on!"

"He is too her true love, Constance! She did the test…well, we did the test; it was my idea. We did it a few weeks ago."

That stunned them all into a momentary silence.

The test that she was referring to was an old witching custom that was designed to reveal your true love. Firstly, a chunk of apple was cut. You then had to clear your mind, filling your heart with only thoughts of pure love. Closing your eyes, you blew on the peel before dropping it into water. Some thought it superstitious nonsense but legend told that the peel would then take shape, eventually revealing the first initial of the one who was to be 'the one'.

"And how is it the apple knows this big secret, Davina?"

"It's simple, Imogen. The apple is the fruit of knowledge."

"Are you ready, dear?"

Imogen nodded slowly, her heart in her mouth as she secretly willed it to sway to her heart's desire. Reading off the small piece of paper Davina had scribbled out, she began to read.

"Apple peel, apple peel

Show me what thou will reveal

Show me the name of my one true love

Send me my answer from high up above.

The one who lights the flame;

The one who sparks the fire

Reveal it for me now,

My true heart's desire."

With that, she dropped the apple into a cauldron of water.

For a moment, there was nothing, then, of its own accord, the apple began to take shape, finally coming to a stop, it spelt out a letter.

There was no mistaking what it said.

Constance snorted in derision.

"I've never heard anything so ridiculous in all my life. Miss Drill is not even a witch – how do you know it worked accurately?"

"…Because, unlike you Constance HARDbroom, we believe!"

"That's enough, ladies." Amelia Cackle warned them, intervening before she had a full blown argument on her hands – she really did not want to have to cover Davina's classes if she locked herself in the stationery cupboard.

"Oh, I'm sorry,my apologies," Constance sarcastically remarked, "And what did this 'magic' apple tell you both?"

"What we already know. It was an S. Clear as day. Serge is her one true love!"

With that, she skipped out the door singing 'Love Is in the Air'.

Later that night, alone in her chambers, Constance reached out for her glass of wine, her eyes never leaving the parchment.

In her hand, she held her birth certificate.

Sara Constance Hardbroom.