Disclaimer: The characters, the show and the books not belong to me, I'm just borrowing them. The idea originally belongs to Jill Murphy.

Although she loved the dark and the cold, she hated early mornings. She never felt fully refreshed or reborn after a night's sleep like her colleagues did. Imogen Drill always enjoyed a morning run in the nearby woods to get her ready for the coming day. However, Constance Hardbroom could not survive the day and its inevitable problems without a strong dose of wide awake potion.

This particular morning was the morning of January 1st. Constance accepted that the storm beating at the castle was a herald for troubles and storms within the castle walls that were yet to come. The thunder and lightening did not ignite hope for the coming year.

It was soon time for Constance to drag herself away from the window and the rain, which demonstrated that at least the weather felt empathy for her. Fortunately the fury of the wind was the only noise that broke the silence within castle. The girls and the intolerable chaos they brought with them would not return for another two days, leaving Constance to prepare for her potions classes. She could guarantee that this would take her mind off of the memories and nightmares.

First though, she would amble to the staffroom to greet her colleagues. She didn't eat breakfast anymore but she did feel the need for some sort of caffeine loaded beverage. Upon approaching her destination, Constance noticed Imogen's muddy footprints; she must already be back from 'the great outdoors' as Imogen called it. From a distance she could already hear the incessant, and borderline hysterical, chanting of Davina Bat. Davina was quirky and absolutely certifiable, yet she did have a somewhat adorable and fascinating manner.

Inhaling deeply, she entered.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Amelia Cackle enquired noticing the abnormally large dark circles around her Deputy's eyes.

"Indeed," she replied forcefully as she desired not to provoke unnecessary concern or pity from her colleagues. She referred to them as colleagues to remind herself that that is all they were. They were not friends for Constance had no need of friends. Only the weak needed other people. Constance Hardbroom was most certainly not weak. She would not be seen as weak nor would she be treated that way. Her colleagues knew this. They knew how important this was for Constance, yet nothing is ever as it seems and they had often suspected that her heart was not as strong as her façade. Imogen in particular was very worried about the woman she desperately desired to get to know. She studied Constance as she sipped her tea, no doubt fuelling her caffeine addiction. Imogen didn't know why but every time she watched her like this she appeared paler, almost as if something was haunting her and disrupting her sleep and disrupting her sleep. She knew that Constance had trouble sleeping at the best of times but since she had come back from visiting her family, family that no one knew she had, she seemed more troubled and exhausted. On closer inspection she was looking increasingly gaunt, this was not surprising as Imogen could not recall the last time she saw Constance eat anything. She seemed to sit down more than she used to, as if she was on the verge of collapse. Her hips and ribs were perturbing in an alarming manner. All was not well.

Imogen resolved to find out what was wrong. Constance may not have been the easiest person in the world or the most forth – coming, nor was she particularly friendly but Imogen hated to see any soul, even one as hard as Constance's, contorted in silent agony. Imogen decided to allow Constance half an hour to herself after she left the staffroom. Then, assuming that Constance would be there, Imogen made her way to the potions lab. She was surprised not to find her there or anywhere else in the castle for that matter. On exploring the courtyard, she spotted Constance in an obvious state of melancholy.

"Finished your class preparations already Miss Hardbroom?"

"When I finish my preparations is no concern of your's. There are still two days before the girls return, which is quite enough time for me to finish thank you very much."

"No need to get so defensive, I was only alluding to the fact that you can't often be found out here."

"It's quite simple really; we all need fresh air every now and again."

"Are you alright?"

"Perfectly."

How do you save someone that won't admit that they are drowning? Imogen was struggling. She didn't know what to do or say. Some people take comfort in just being listened to; some people needed a hug, Constance the Ice Queen fitted into neither category. So what now? Just as she was contemplating this, Imogen felt a drip of rain on her forehead. To begin with the rain was delicate. Every drop a tear from Heaven, yet the calm beauty disappeared as soon as it came. The rain cascaded down and carried with it a reflection of the burden that Constance was carrying with her. A burden that was slowly but surely breaking down the strong, strict and stern Constance Hardbroom. A burden that Imogen could clearly see was causing her colleague to deteriorate. Looking at her again she could see that Constance was fading away before her very eyes.

"We ought to go inside Miss Hardbroom…… Miss Hardbroom?"

Something was definitely wrong.

"Miss Hardbroom?"

"Go on if you wish Miss Drill but I must remain to allow the rain to cleanse my soul."

"Cleanse your soul?" Imogen was frightened now. This was not Constance speaking.

"There are things, a great many things that you do not know Miss Drill. I am more than merely my black dress and severe bun. Not that anyone cares about the real me though. I'm just the strict Deputy Headmistress, ready to ruin everyone's lives. I couldn't possibly have any scars could I?"

Imogen was seriously concerned now. It wasn't like Constance to express angst like this. Imogen thought there was something extremely disconcerting about seeing the strong and great Miss Hardbroom so depressed. Was there a hint of fear that she could sense as well? All this convinced Imogen beyond a shadow of a doubt that Constance needed someone, however much she would hate to admit that.

"I'm here now and I'm listening. Take off your mask and tell me about your scars."