XIII

The next day was even darker and greyer. It was the day the Diggory boy had died, and the skies went black. The snow came down in sour sprinkles, covering everything in a depressing sheet of white. Nobody laughed, and nobody ran. There was always a silent sobbing to be heard upon the turn of a corner, as if someone were reliving the moment in which they'd seen him sprawled, dead, across the floor.

Hether looked across the table at her roommate. Her eyes had been misty since the end of the last paper, and she could tell it wasn't because she knew Cedric Diggory. There was something else, something deeper, and she was using the guise of his remembrance to let out her emotions.

Grega hadn't spoken a word to her since yesterday, and she was worried. She leaned out with her foot under the table and nudged her. Her eyes visibly shifted back to focus as she blinked.

"I guess you knew Cedric well too." Hether said.

"Yes," Grega looked back down. Hether's eyes followed the movement. She could see her fingers trembling slightly, but rapidly. The girl was clearly unnerved, and it had nothing to do with Cedric.

"Do you want to get some air?" Hether reached out across the table and placed her hand over Grega's quivering one, stopping the shaking. She looked up, eyes wide with gratitude, and nodded her head furiously. She looked as if she were about to burst, and Hether couldn't help but feel sorry for her. "Come on, then."

Grega rose from her seat, her mind fixated on leaving as quickly as was possible without anyone else noticing her breakdown. Her hand slipped on the bench, and she came tumbling down unto a soft black mass much to her dismay.

"Oh," Grega whispered, lowering her head so she wouldn't see the heads that had turned towards her.

When she looked up, she found herself staring at a black shirt decked in silver chains and a yellow-and-black striped scarf. Her stomach lurched, and her head cleared up instantly. She sprang back from the person as if she'd been electrocuted.

"Can't you look where you're going, you cow?!" she stood up and straightened her robes. Her eyes darted around the hall, anxious. Surely no one had seen them touching; even the slightest body contact was seen as vile. What it was, was worse than being a blood traitor; and much worse than being called a mudblood.

Grega gave a disgusted scoff and turned, furious, and stormed out of the hall.

Hether's eyes followed the offender as they returned to their place and sat, their head hanging low. She almost felt pity for them. The doors slammed shut and she made a dash for them. She found Grega making a beeline for the Quad, and followed after her.

When she reached Grega, the girl had slumped by the wall on the floor and was staring into the dreary snow as if her world had come crashing down.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." Hether sat next to her.

"Do what?" Grega narrowed red eyes at her.

"Call her a cow."

"She could have chosen to spell herself out of it." Grega scoffed. "And why shouldn't she? She's going to infect someone eventually, you know."

Hether squinted. She could have looked at the girl's future and intervened. But she didn't, and she would grow up to be bitter and vengeful if she didn't.

"You can't just hex away your problems, Grega. You can hide then for a while but they're always there." She turned to the blond girl. "Now, what's the matter?"

Grega's face softened and fell as she averted her gaze from Hether. "We broke up."

Hether blinked in confusion. "You and who?"

Grega turned to Hether with a look that would probably hurt her very much if looks were daggers. "Bradley and I, you moron."

"Hey, sorry, I forgot you two were lovers." Hether smirked.

"Don't go and say it like that." Grega's mouth lifted in a slight smile. "We weren't lovers. Besides, Romilda said she saw him with Anice."

"Who?" Hether's head jerked back. The names were swimming in her head, and like empty thoughts, they meant nothing.

"Anice Van Dal." Grega was clearly aggravated by her lack of social skills. "tall, brunette with a mane of hair too big for her head, and hips too big for her body."

"Oh." Hether deadpanned. "Well... sorry."

"It's ok. Romilda thinks it's because she has hips and I don't, and Bradley likes to hold on to something."

Hether could feel the back of her neck heating up. She couldn't tell if Grega was genuinely unaffected or faking it, as she had been crying less than ten minutes ago.

"What do you think?" Grega fully turned to her, expecting an answer.

"Oh..." Hether blinked. Her mind was screaming. She didn't know how to respond to frivolous teenage crises such as this one. "Well... all men are scum."

Dumb.

Leather and jasmine wafted up her nose, and her heart sank.

"Hello, Hether," a swad of black robes blocked out whatever light was filtering through the clouds. Hether looked up to see Draco standing before her, silent as death. Grega's eyes bulged so widely she was sure they would fall out as she looked at Hether in disbelief.

"Draco..." Hether responded weakly.

"All men are scum, isn't it?" Grega didn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed that she had been blatantly had.

"Who's this here?" Draco shifted his gaze to Grega.

"I'm Grega Geydon, Hether's obliged roommate." She answered sourly.

Draco took a long blink. "Geydon? You mean to say, the Bakers Geydon?"

"I do."

"Oh, my parents will love yours." Hether blurted out excitedly.

"Your parents?" both sharply turned to the former.

"You have parents?" Draco arched his brow.

Hether frowned. "It's an alias."

"An alias?" Grega said, puzzled. "Whatever for?"

Hether's eyes widened as she realised she hadn't told her roommate anything. "For...all things that you need an alias for-"

"Such as stealing your girlfriend for a couple of minutes." Draco looked fixatedly at her. Grega looked as if her face was about to blow up from amassed shock.

"Pardon me?" she stuttered.

"Er, Draco here and I are a thing now, officially," Hether placed a firm hand on Grega's shoulder. "But that's not important right now because we are dealing with an issue here. Teenage pregnancy. You know the works."

"Indeed." Draco went pink, much to Grega's amusement. "Well, I suppose I'll see you later. Maybe then you wont still think of all men as scum."

Snap, Hether thought. He wasn't going to forget that very soon.

As soon as the white haired boy had gone out of their sight, Grega gave Hether a firm whack on the shoulder.

"Ow!!" Hether scowled deeply. "What's that for?"

"That? You deserve much worse than that!" Grega rolled her eyes. "I'm your roommate and one of your very, very few friends! Didn't think to tell me that you and Draco were together?"

"Surprise," Hether grumbled. "But you're going through something now."

The muffled sound of boots crunching through the snow caught their ears and they looked up. The girl Grega had bumped into (or was it the other way round?) was striding across the courtyard in quick angry steps. They both watched as she marched, a lone black silhouette against the white snow, with a mane of black coils hiding her face, until she had disappeared into the building just as quickly as she had appeared.

Hether didn't need to look at Grega to see the look of scorn on her face. "You keep doing that and you'll find yourself obsessed with her. It's like what they say about the wind – keep your face like that and you'll get stuck."

"How can you say that?" Grega pulled a face. "I'd rather have babies for You-Know-Who than be obsessed with her."

Hether snorted. "Likely."