Elphaba stashed the paper of instructions Dr. Dillamond handed her inside the pages of the Grimmerie and then set it on the ground. She listened to Dr. Dillamond further.

"Tell them I sent you. I…" - he looked slightly uncomfortable all of the sudden – "I think they'll believe you.

"I don't have anyone else to send you to," he admitted, "but I'll think of someone and let you know some way – unless you'd like to stay here another day so I can be able to send you to two people?"

She shook her head. "I can't do that."

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay. Don't leave there until you do hear from me, then."

She nodded. "I won't."

Dr. Dillamond looked down and cleared his throat, and in a thick voice said, "Be careful."

Elphaba forced a smile, and moved forward to clasp his hands in hers. They were rough, and cold. He looked at her, and they smiled at each other. "I'll be fine," she promised. "With the Grimmerie on my side, I'lll…I'll be fine."

Dr. Dillamond chuckled, and pulled his hands away to pat her on the back. "I worry about you, Elphaba," he told her. Her expression grew serious, and he walked past her as he spoke, her eyes following him. "You really do need to be careful. The Wizard will stop ant nothing to find you. He – " Dr. Dillamond laughed bitterly, "he's even forgotten about rounding up the Animals for now."

"We can still stop him! If we get more people – and Animals – on our side, you, and me, and anyone else can defeat him!" she finished desperately, for Dr. Dillamond was shaking his head.

"No, Elphaba. You need to worry about you right now. Let me worry about myself."

Elphaba wanted to pretend like she didn't need to worry about herself, but had to live in reality. "Well, I cause a distraction for all of you, at least," she offered with a small smile.

Dr. Dillamond looked into her sincere, green face and was overwhelmed by how sorry he was for her. He gave her a small smile in return. "I'll see you in a few days," he promised, "possibly even tomorrow."

"What if I just come here?" Dr. Dillamond looked hopeful for a moment, but Elphaba rushed on. "Just to get the directions, I mean."

"No, that's too dangerous, I don't want you making more trips than you have to."

Elphaba was about to argue, but then changed her mind, accepting his answer. She glanced out the window. It was dark. It was time for her to leave.

Dr. Dillamond looked outside also, then turned back to Elphaba with a regretful smile. She returned the smile, then hugged him tightly. He patted her thin body on the back slowly, thinking that the next time they saw each other might be their last. He had almost helped as much as he could. Elphaba needed to learn how to fend for herself.

They broke apart, and she stared into his kind, worried eyes for a moment, but then turned away to gather her belongings. She set her hat atop her head, then carried the Grimmerie and her broom. Dr. Dillamond walked to the door, waiting for her. While he knew he would see her again in a matter of days, this goodbye was very hard. It would (as far as he knew) be the last time he would see her for more than a few minutes, and the last time he would see her alone.

She walked to the door, holding her stuff, and they stared at each other for another moment. He opened the door for her, and she stepped onto his porch. The chilly wind whipped her cape and hair around, and with her green skin and pointy profile, even Dr. Dillamond had to admit she looked menacing – until she smiled. He could see her youth and naïveté, then, and he wanted to shield her from the world and all of the horrible people in it. But how could he protect her, when he couldn't even protect himself? He hugged her again, briefly, then stepped back inside. He had offered earlier to walk her there, but Elphaba was very insistent upon doing this alone. Elphaba looked down for a moment, then back at him. "Bye," she whispered.

"I'll see you in a few days," he reminded her.

She nodded, then turned her back towards him, walking towards her new savior. She heard the door shut behind her.

…

Talking about Elphaba – the Wicked Witch of the West – had not yet grown old at Shiz. The students had varying feelings on the subject of her – some were scared, some thought it was funny, some had a very knowing air ("I knew there was something wrong with her when I saw the green skin"), and a very select few missed her horribly, and knew the truth.

Fiyero could only endure so much ridicule about Elphaba. His friends were of the sort that thought it was funny, they were invincible college students, after all, why should they be so afraid of a skinny girl who was their age? Athven, the lone girl of the group, ran to the front of the other four and walked backwards in front of them, so that she was facing them. She was beautiful, it was true, but the sneering expression on her face changed her soft, doe expressions. Fiyero hated her long black hair. Every time he saw her from across the room he had to look again, because he thought the first time that it might be Elphaba. "I heard," she began with self-importance, "that she's in love with a Pig." When she got puzzled expressions from the rest of the group, she added, "Why do you think she cared so much about that old goat teacher we had, and that lion?"

"We should have beat her up when we had the chance," Leighev, the oldest of the group laughed. He was tall and lanky, with dark brown hair and the shadings of a mustache that was taking him awhile to grow in.

Fiyero looked at him with an annoyed, and slightly shocked expression. "She's a girl."

Leighev laughed again. "Oh, who knows for sure about that one?" The other three they were walking down the hall with snickered. "Who cares anyway? She's a witch." He paused, then added with a mischievous grin, "Or he."

Fiyero stopped, and the others stopped also. "You coming?" Athven asked him.

He ignored her. "You didn't even know her."

Everyone laughed, though it was slightly uneasy, as if they weren't sure if it was a joke or not.

He stared right at Leighev, not taking his eyes off of him. Leighev stopped laughing and stared at Fiyero curiously. "Come on…we're talking about the Wicked Witch of the West here."

"Stop calling her that!" Fiyero let the volume of his voice raise.

Everyone was silent now. They were alone in the hall, class had started ten minutes ago – they liked to skip a lot. Leighev glared at him. "You liked that green witch, didn't you."

Fiyero flew at him, tackling him. He felt nothing, knew nothing, just to throw blows at the person underneath him. He heard a few shouts, a scream, and quickly felt himself being hoisted from the ground, coming up still swinging.

There were more people in the halls now, and he caught a glimpse of a bloodied-nose Leighev, and felt the bruise already forming on his cheek where Leighev had thrown at least one lucky hit. A professor was yelling at him; he didn't care, he didn't hear. He would have broken free and started hitting Leighev again, but it wasn't an option; they were far down the hall by now. "What is going on here."

It was not a question. He heard the shrieking voice of Madame Morrible coming down the hall, and everyone parted, leaving him at the center. He felt fully exposed, messed up and bruised, but he stared at her angrily. She was part of the reason for this.

She stopped when she saw him, and gestured towards him. "Come," she demanded. She turned and went back the way she came, and, having no better option, Fiyero followed her.

…

"Sit."

Fiyero sat.

She began to walk around her desk slowly. "Fiyero…

"You knew our Miss Elphaba, didn't you."

He looked up at her in slight surprise, but did not show it. He didn't say anything, but she didn't require an answer.

"Sometimes, the things we want in life are not within our grasp. And sometimes…" she paused, thinking. "They're right down the hall."

She looked at him to see if he understood. He did.

"You can not defend Miss Elphaba any longer. She is no longer a student here; she is no longer the person that you knew. She is no longer a person. She's a witch."

Fiyero's throat tightened, but still, he did not say anything.

"Miss Glinda has been promised a position working for the Wizard when she is older – if she keeps her mouth shut. I'm sure you have been told, though."

Fiyero stopped to wonder how she knew, but Madame Morrible did not look at him. "If you, also, keep your mouth shut, and agree to what we – the Wizard and myself – are saying…I would be prepared to offer you a position also."

"What position?" It was a reflex, and Fiyero already regretted asking.

Madame Morrible smiled slightly to herself. She had won. "Oh…captain of the guard, perhaps?"

Fiyero licked his lips, thinking. Madame Morrible noticed this, and added, "There isn't an alternative. It's this, or you will be captured and put in jail with your dear friend."

Fiyero glared at her. He struggled with his mind for a moment, but knew he was defeated. He was done. Hating himself and everything that had happened, he said, "I'll take it."

…

A/N: SO SORRY! I can't do personal author's notes this chapter, it's late, but thank you all so much for reviewing, I very much appreciate it, and I'm SO SORRY that it took me so long! Writer's block. SO SORRY!