XXXII

Grega ran as fast as her legs would allow, not stopping once despite annoyed shrieks from people she breezed past, until she reached the infirmary and flung the door open. Veja turned to the sound, startled, and frowned when she found that it was Grega.

"Are you retarded, or short of hearing?" Veja scowled as Grega marched up to her bedside.

Grega ignored the snide remark and dropped her bag loudly to the ground. "You said I pushed you over a tower. I've no idea what you're talking about."

Veja's eyes rolled to the whites as she folded her arms across her chest. "Are you sick? Is this some kind of joke? You know I'm very well versed in a few splicing curses."

"There's no such thing as a splicing curse-" Grega sighed in annoyance. "Just tell me what happened that day. You seem to be the only person who remembers, yet here you are, locked away from the rest of the school because… what even happened to you?"

Veja scoffed and smirked. "Are you this thick or you really don't remember anything? What'd you do; obliviate yourself to rid yourself of the guilt?"

Grega's eyes flashed with anger. She raised a thin finger and pointed it furiously at the defiant girl lying in the bed. "Listen. I don't have time for your little tricks, you filthy cow. So tell me what I need to know or I'll drag it out of your head."

The smug look on the bedridden girl's face fell away and she sat up abruptly, upper lip curling in disgust. "There you go again. You haven't changed one bit. I'll tell you what you did, so that you can live with your miserable self. Cow. Filth. Infected." With each word spat out with hate, Grega's world seemed to grow smaller. " Mudblood. Rabid. Scum. Do those words ring a bell in your empty head?

"Do you know what its like, to be called a wretched pig; to be pushed and shoved around as if I were a rag? Because of you, everyone hates me, but they adore you. I was going to say goodbye. I was going to leave; was going to end all the pain and finally get the silence I've always wanted. But you just had to play the hero, didn't you?!" Grega staggered back as Veja screeched out the final words.

A single tear fell dropped into her palm and Grega lifted her hand to her face. It slipped against the wet surface of her cheek, trapping the tears between palm and face. "I – I'm sorry."

"That's what you said that day." Veja's eyes were cold and unforgiving. "But look at what you cost me."

She tore the bed covers from her body, and placed a hand on the dresser to stand up, but as she did so, she tumbled to the ground, with her legs tangled uselessly behind her. She kept her head to the ground and took in a deep breath. "I can't walk anymore. Because of you."

As she lay there refusing to look up, it came back to Grega like a rushing flood. That day, at the tower, she was going to do something to herself. She, Grega, had then leapt out to stop her but had failed, and the two of them had tumbled over the tower, but she had grabbed a railing and held onto her. Then Veja had done a spell so terrible it had shredded her body as if it was thrown into a mincer. The spell had affected them both, and the pain caused her to let go. They fell into a chasm, and-

Grega blinked. There was nothing again to remember. It was all dark. Perhaps that was it. She had come to on the ground, surrounded by people. She shook her head. "No."

"No, what?" Veja snarled.

"It's not my fault you can't walk. You did that to yourself." Grega squatted in front of her. "So maybe I'm not the pathetic one. You can't blame me for the actions of everyone, just because I'm weaker. This was all you, and I pity you." She clicked her tongue in disapproval and rose, walking away.

As she did, her mind began to clear. There was nothing to reconcile here, in this moment. She had done that when she tried and failed to save her. At least she had tried. If Veja was willing to stay buried under all the hate, then she was free to do so. She let out a breath of relief and walked out of the infirmary, shutting the door behind her.

The hallway, despite being full of students milling about, was quiet. Grega appreciated how the noise from the rest of the school filtered in like white noise. It was calm, peaceful and tranquil.

Until a door slammed loudly behind her. She ignored it and kept walking; whatever was happening was not her concern. A cry of morbid anguish filled the air, and someone yelled, "LOOK OUT!"

She gasped slightly and dropped to the ground, just as an angry zap of magic flew over her head and hit the wall. She turned her head to the direction it came from, and wasn't at all surprised to see a boiling Veja standing in the open doorway of the infirmary, with her wand clenched in a death grip in her hand. She was seething and crying and fuming with fury, and murder was written all over her face.

What was surprising, was the many other details Grega noticed at once. Wherever her tears trailed, burn marks seemed to etch themselves unto her face. She was also standing, with her heels dug firmly into the ground, far apart. But the most alarming of them all, was that all her hair had flown back from her face, parted like a curtain which was streaming behind her; and it had exposed, for the first time, her skin. It was deep caramel from head to toe, but from her left ear, the pale splotches began.

They weren't like angry blotches of pink skin just scattered across her body, but swam across her form as if she had been dipped into liquid marble and yanked out, so that the caramel and pink marbled all over her skin. It was fascinating, but Grega did not think now was the time to be transfixed by it, especially since her eyes were black with bloodlust.

Veja's chest rose and fell in angry breaths. With each breath the fear grew, and nobody could move, as if they were frozen; fixed to the spot by the siren of her rage.

Grega's body grew cold; everywhere grew cold and dark, as if all the light and life had been sucked out with a straw, leaving nothing but despair. She felt horrid, and wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and just lie there.

It was Veja herself who broke the silence. "RUN, you filthy mudblood!"

Greg gasped as Veja lifted her wand and pointed it at her. Suddenly her mind burst into action as magic seemed to draw itself to Veja's wand, but she was too slow; her legs seemed to be numb. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and she stood still like an idiot; like a deer caught in headlights, and could not move.

And yet, for the second time since she had stepped in this damned-to-hell school, someone threw themselves in front of her.