Hello! *waves* so this is my first, and very late foray, into the Worst Witch fanfiction. I've loved this series ever since I was little and I was delighted to discover, only about two weeks ago, that there was a fanfiction archive for it. I couldn't resist writing a story of my own.

This story centres around Mildred and Constance Hardbroom, who is, unsurprisingly, my favourite character. Kate Duchêne's performance as the legendary HB was mind blowing and couldn't have been more perfect.

This story is dedicated to NCD, whose amazing story inspired my own and who encouraged me to write this :)

I think this is set a little bit after the Dragon's Hoard episode in the TV series, and it is definitely set before the last episode of the second series, because Miss Bat is going to be in this story. I mean, the woman hides in a cupboard, how could you not love her?

Anyway, without further ado, here is my first attempt a WWFF. Please read and enjoy!

Nemesis

Chapter 1

The Goddess of Elements was furious. At least, that was how Mildred imagined it. Rain pelted down against the worn stones of Castle Overblow from clouds so black that they obscured the night sky. Thunder roared directly above and flashes of lightning illuminated every corner of her dingy room. The savage wind whistled among the turrets, howling down the cold empty corridors and under the door, demanding to be let in. Mildred could just picture the Goddess standing in the thick clouds, a look of wrath on her face as she sent waves of ice cold rain to ravage the landscape.

Mildred had never liked the dark, especially not in this sort of weather. She sat hunched at the head of her bed, cocooned in a blanket. Tabby was curled against her chest, shielding her against the vicious cold. A single candle stood by Mildred's bedside, its flame flickering dangerously in the cruel draft, sending malicious shadows dancing over the walls.

She shivered, hugging the blanket more tightly around her, eyes watching the shadows nervously. The familiar shapes in her room seemed distorted and frightening in the harsh flashes of lightning. They reminded her of what really frightened her about the dark. What lurked in the darkest depths of the shadows? What nightmare was waiting to leap out of the blackness as soon as her back was turned?

Somehow, this night was worse than the others. In her time at Cackle's she had grown used to the sudden violent storms, the way the wind picked up in the corridors and rattled the doors. But something was different about tonight. Mildred could feel it, a tension, crackling in the air like the sparks of a forest fire, speaking of a danger that she did not understand. It was too quiet, despite the wild storm; the silence after each thunder clap, the feeling that she was alone in the great castle, the feeling that the world was holding its breath.

Burying her fingers in Tabby's scruffy fur for security, Mildred her shook herself, trying to remind herself that it was just a storm, that she was bound to be fanciful on a night like this. Another clap of thunder rolled overhead and she jumped, heart pounding in her ears. Tabby, startled out of a deep sleep, streaked towards the small window of the room, fur on end.

Mildred laughed 'Oh Tabby!' It was a blessed release from the tension. Mildred climbed out of her small bed, walked on tip toe and bent to pick up her rather indignant cat quickly, feeling the cold already seeping into her bare feet.

Mildred cradled Tabby against her chest, half hiding her face in his hair and straightened up. There was a flash of lightning and Mildred spun to the window, peering out into the half-darkness. In that brief flash, something had caught her eye.

The moon had emerged from behind a bank of thick black clouds, and in the silvery light Mildred was able to see that there was something moving in the night sky. A small dark shape was moving towards the school courtyard, descending from the direction of the forest. Mildred would recognise that struggling awkward shape anywhere. A witch on a broomstick, struggling to shield herself from the fierce cold; Mildred had been in that situation many times. The wind was tugging determinedly at the witch's cloak, whipping it around her, trying to snatch it from shoulders hunched against the wind and rain.

Three more witches suddenly rose over the wall and there was an abrupt flare of red sparks that shot directly towards the first witch. The first witch swerved quickly to avoid the attack and was forced to duck again as more and more flares of sparks narrowly missed her.

Mildred gasped, 'Tabby…they're trying to kill her' the hairs had risen on the back of her neck at the thought.

A flare of bright blue-white lightning lit up the scene. Mildred was out of the door and fleeing down the corridor before she had fully grasped that her feet were moving. In the sudden moment of clarity Mildred had recognised one of the attacking witches. Those large round spectacles had been haunting her dreams for months; she would recognise them anywhere.

Mildred skidded to a halt in front of the great wooden doors and placed her hands against their worn surface. It was only then that she actually paused to think about what she was doing. A strange witch, descending in at night time during a fierce gale over a school full of young witches; it was a strange scenario in the least. It could be a trap laid by Agatha. Mildred shook herself and braced her hands against the heavy door; there was no way she was going to leave the witch out in the storm – especially if Agatha and her crones were trying to kill her.

The door creaked open and the sounds of the storm filled the corridor like the echoes of a strange orchestra. She was immediately met with relentless rain that drove into her face like stinging shards of ice. Within seconds of emerging into the night, her nightgown was almost completely soaked.

Trying to ignore the rain dripping into her eyes, Mildred peered out into the night, just as the unknown witch landed in the flooding courtyard. Mildred was moving towards her, when Agatha swooped overhead and shot a final blaze of sparks that streaked like fireworks across the darkness. This time, Agatha's aim was perfect.

The spell hit the witch directly in the back with such force that it threw her towards the ground. Mildred lunged forward, caught the injured witch and dragged her upright, a sense of horror and urgency filling her as she stagged back towards the safety of the castle.

She heard a cackle of triumph from one of the witches, followed a split second later by scream of fury as another realised what was happening. Mildred increased her pace, half carrying, half dragging the semi-conscious witch. Less than a foot from the door, Mildred ducked and flung herself through the arch of the doorway, as an instinct she didn't know she possessed urged her to get out of the way. Pulling the limp witch with her, she hurled herself against the heavy oak door. The combined weight of the two witches slammed the door shut, just as a spell soared through the air.

Mildred felt the vibrations of the curse thrumming through the ancient wood as she reeled away, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She stood for a moment, staring fixedly at the door, afraid that Agatha and her crones would try and force it open. But it seemed that they had given up, at least for now, for she could hear nothing but the continuous rumble of thunder.

Heart still pounding, she turned to the witch she had just rescued. Mildred was supporting the witch with an arm around her waist, and the would-be victim had flung her own arm around Mildred's back, her head lolling like a rag doll on her saviour's shoulder.

With a slightly trembling hand, Mildred pulled the sodden hood back and received something of a shock. The witch was a young girl, no older than Mildred herself. Mildred's brow furrowed, 'what on earth did they want with you?'

As if in answer, the young witch's eyes snapped open mere centimetres from Mildred's face. Blue eyes locked with blue as Mildred met the witch's gaze. Mildred felt a very odd sensation, as if a cold hand had just passed down her spine; there was something very… familiar about the witch's eyes, something that she couldn't put her finger on. She blinked, breaking the connection and shifted her grip on the witch, so that her arm wasn't touching the place where the spell had hit her, and started to support the witch along the corridor, intent on reaching the staff room as soon as possible.

The witch moaned quietly, flinching as a spasm of pain shot up her back. Mildred glanced sideways at her, opening her mouth to speak, intent on giving the young witch some encouragement.

All thoughts of that died however, when the witch spoke first. 'Mildred…' her voice was barely above a whisper, but the word she had uttered could not have been clearer.

Mildred froze, her mouth parting slightly in shock as a startling realisation filled her. The witch knew who she was, and not in the way someone would recognise another person from a photograph. Somehow, the witch really knew her. Mildred swallowed, attempting to find her voice, when she noticed that the colour was rapidly draining from the witch's already pale face.

The witch tried to speak again, and the urgency in her eyes was suddenly extremely clear, 'Mildred… I have to… you need to warn…' She staggered suddenly and Mildred was forced to lean her against a wall as her weight suddenly became impossible to bare.

The witch slid to the stone floor with a groan and Mildred shot a desperate glance over her shoulder. The staff room was no more than five metres away now, but it was abundantly clear that she was not going to be able to get the witch there. So many questions were running through the confused student's mind, but she understood that witch had something very urgent to say, and questions like 'how the hell do you who I am?' would have to wait for now.

Mildred reached forward and grasped the witch's hands, 'who? Who do you need to warn?' She tried to speak firmly yet encouragingly, understanding that the witch was definitely struggling to stay conscious.

Gratitude flashed briefly across the witch's face at the realisation of what Mildred was doing. 'I need to… Constance… you… both have to be… careful', the witch gasped the last word out and sucked in a large breath, obviously fighting to gather her scattered thoughts. Her eyelids kept drifting shut.

Constance? As far as Mildred knew, the only people who ever called HB Constance were in the staff room down the corridor. Why is this girl using HB's first name? She wondered. Frowning, Mildred said, 'Miss Hardbroom? You need to warn Miss Hardbroom to be careful?' understanding dawned, 'Miss Hardbroom and I both have to be careful because of Agatha, is that right?'

The witch nodded, gripping Mildred's hands tightly in her own, 'you have to… Agatha… is working…' the witch struggled for breath, '…Broomhead… she… they want to… destroy…school'.

Mildred could literally see the strength fading from the witch's eyes. Her thoughts were so muddled and confused that for a moment she strove to understand what she had just said. When she did, her eyes popped out of her head and she swallowed. 'Agatha Cackle and Mistress Broomhead are working together to destroy this school?' her head was reeling from the idea; when would those two just leave Cackle's alone? As she saw it, Agatha would probably never give up, and it seemed that Mistress Broomhead had been so humiliated by their last encounter that she was determined to bring the school to its knees.

The witch's face flooded with relief, but it appeared that she hadn't finished yet. 'You both… be careful…Mildred…' Suddenly, the witch straightened and a strange energy seemed to radiate from her eyes. When she spoke again, it was in a much different voice, in a tone that seemed to echo with strange harmonics. 'This is just the beginning'.

The energy drained from her face just as quickly as it had come and the witch slumped against the wall, her eyes closing as she lost her struggle to stay conscious. With a trembling hand, Mildred reached out and pressed two fingers to the base of the witch's neck. The strongly beating pulse told her that the witch had just fainted.

Mildred sat back on her haunches and stared at the strange witch. The dark cloak had done little to shield her from the rain, and the soaked material clung to her body, showing that she was quite thin. She was also very tall, at least as tall as Mildred, which was why she had not originally realised that she was just a girl. The witch's long dark hair clung to her neck and the side of her pale face, which was still dripping rain water. She looked like someone who had just been saved from drowning.

A shiver ran through Mildred's body as the adrenaline began to ware off, alerting her to just how wet and cold she was herself. It was still raining outside and the silence of the castle seemed to press down on her from all sides. The last words the witch had spoken were ringing like bells through her head and the threatening atmosphere of the night was twisting them it to something dark and ominous.

And quite suddenly, Mildred had the same feeling that she had up in her room, the same sure sense of clarity that had kept her awake all night. Somehow she knew that her life, that life at Cackle's, would never be the same again.

so what do you think? It was a bit short, but the chapters will get longer, and HB and everyone else will be in the next chapter :)

please review and let me know what you think, criticism is welcome, but please no flames! :D