Bella, who was still entirely in shock, could only stare up at her former classmate at the moment. Tilda hadn't really changed that much; she definitely didn't look as put together as she had as head girl, but they were in the Hebrides — there was no need to give off the appearance of looking prim and proper in the company of her family.

She opened her mouth to speak, but all she could manage was a gasp. Any attempts at movement were met by a sharp pain on her leg, but she didn't have the stomach at the moment to look down to see what was wrong. She felt uneasy, dizzy, and undeniably in pain at whatever had hit her.

What had hit her, though?

She remembered the confrontation's beginning and she knew the outcome, but her memories of everything in between were surprisingly dim for having been so recent. She struggled to remember which spells he'd used and where on her body she'd specifically been hit, but it was hard to tell when she was sore all over.

She picked up one of her hands (which was unfortunately covered in dirt) and tried to grab her friend's wrist — a wordless plea for help. How was she supposed to even get across what had happened? Would Tilda just know?