A/N: This is not by far the first Wicked fanfiction I've written, however, it is the first of this account. Hopefully I'll have some better ones than my old account (which I will never tell anyone. Ever). I hope you enjoy.

Scraps of Memories

Glinda slowly packed up her things, the room mainly bare now. All of her suitcases were filled and being transported down to the railway. The dim light of the cloudy day shining through the window showed the already stripped side of the room that had been hers. Glinda had been out when it was done and it came as a surprise when she arrived back to find the emptiness. She hadn't even gotten to keep anything as a memento of her best friend.All that was left of her side now where her bedside table and the drawer she had shared of the desk.

Sitting gingerly on the edge of her bed, she pulled the drawer out, and held it in her lap, her last suitcase open next to her. A flurry of curls fell in her face as she looked down at the contents of the drawer.

Mostly it was rubbish, scraps of paper and hair accessories. There was the occasional broken pen or makeup brush. Glinda steadily threw these into the rubbish bin nearby, the clangs of the harder objects echoing in her mind. She was alone in Shiz, most of the other students had already left for the summer. Even Fiyero was gone. Glinda wasn't quite sure why she had stayed this long. Maybe, in some deluded part of her mind, she was waiting for Elphaba to waltz in and ask what she was doing there, plucking a book from under her arm or announcing she was off to the library or to visit Nessarose. But the rational part of her brain knew this could not happen. Elphaba was no longer Elphaba; she was the Wicked Witch of the West. Some of their fellow students had refused to believe what Madame Morrible had claimed but after the first few strange disappearances, most grew too scared to doubt. Many blamed Elphaba for the missing students but Glinda believed she knew better.

After several moments of sorting the drawer, Glinda came across a folded piece of paper, lying at the bottom. Setting the drawer aside, she unfolded the paper and couldn't stop the tears from forming in her eyes. The familiar handwriting jumped out at her, the sharp letters and neat hand one that she could picture in her sleep. She hadn't seen it in months now. It was from Elphaba, one Lurlinemas when she had been at home with Nessa and Glinda had decided to remain at Shiz to study. There was nothing of great importance in the letter, something rare for Elphaba, she was simply replying to questions the blonde had asked of her.

Dear Galinda,

Really, you must cease with the use of 'Ozian' words, as you call them. It makes it infuriatingly difficult to read your letters.

To your questions, I am fine. Although I theorise this first question was merely a formality? To the next, Nessa is also doing well. Father was pleased to see her, and her to see him. He had no reaction to me, although I suspected nothing less. I've spent the majority of the holiday in my room with my books. Just as you thought I would. There has been no snow yet, but I think it should arrive soon. Horrible stuff, I can't fathom why you would look forward to it. Boq has been around to see Nessa, which brightened her day significantly, I could see it on her face. But watching them, I can't help but think Boq does not feel the same way about Nessa as she does for him. But what do I know of love? Do keep me updated on the goings on of Shiz, I look forward to returning. Being home has reminded me of why I did not miss being here.

Happy Lurlinemas,

Yours,

Elphaba Thropp

Glinda read and reread the letter, a soft smile playing upon her face. She could almost see Elphaba writing it, curled up on herself, her pen scratching across the paper furiously, a discarded book nearby. She traced the signature with her finger before closing the letter and holding it to her chest. After a few seconds, she carefully placed it in her suitcase, sighing softly.

There was nothing left in the drawer now, so she placed it back in the bedside table. Standing up, straightening her skirts, she wandered over to the desk. She was certain she had never used her half of it, Elphaba was there too often for her to get the chance, and opening the drawer confirmed this. Just as she was closing it, a thought struck her. Moving to the right slightly, Glinda opened the drawer that had been her roommate's.

With a quiet gasp, she sunk to her knees, pulling the drawer out with her. It was still full of Elphaba's belongings. There was nothing of great importance, Elphaba had taken all of that to the Emerald City and then on the run with her. It was filled with old notes, pens, the occasional hair tie. Her spare ink and paper where stored here too. Glinda plucked them both from the small wooden box and set them aside. There were beginnings of essays that they had been set before their trip to the Emerald City. Glinda read Elphaba's essays over and over again before placing them on the same pile as the blank paper.

Sifting through the draw, Glinda eventually came across several pieces of scrunched up paper at the back, buried under other debris. She straightened them up after sitting up on the chair of the desk. Her legs had grown tried on the ground under all her skirts. Reading over some of the notes, Glinda's hand rose up to her mouth. They were the cruel things other students would pass to or, in some cases, throw at Elphaba. On one, the blonde girl recognised her own handwriting. She could see now how horrible they had been to Elphaba. Glinda had always thought her roommate to merely have a serious nature, but some of the things written would make anyone serious. Some of the papers were not of the horrible note variety; they were simply class notes Elphaba didn't need after writing them up neatly.

It passed through Glinda's mind that these things had not bothered Elphaba. She had treated them the same as any other note she had no need of any longer. Glinda wondered how anyone could grow up to become used to being mistreated. But from what Elphaba had told her, after years of such treatment, one grew used to it.

Standing once more, she gathered up the cruel words and placed them in the fireplace. Striking a match, she lit them, watching as they burned, curling and uncurling until nothing remained but the ashes of foolish words. Glinda stared at the once again empty fireplace before turning on her heel, gathering up Elphaba's things and placing them in her suitcase. Closing the suitcase and returning the drawer to its original home, she glanced around the room, found nothing more she could possibly want to keep, grabbed the handle and started to make her way out of her room for the final time.

She did not notice the pink flower hair clip that had fallen to the floor when she returned Elphaba's drawer.