Blaise whirled around at the sound of Sally's voice, pointing his now-useless wand at her aggressively. He wasn't thinking rationally, and to him it was the fault of everyone in this school that he had contracted the virus. The fact that he barely knew this girl meant no difference to him.
"I'm fine. I'm getting out of this Quarantine if it means I have to blow myself up to do so. I suggest you leave, and fast."
His neck twitched to the side, and though he was seething in anger he knew she was right. He didn't think he'd ever looked worse in his life. There were beads of sweat pouring down his forehead, stinging his eyes as they fell. The bouts of nausea probably had done nothing for his physique, either; he hadn't been able to stomach any solid food for days.
"Well?" Blaise questioned, "What are you waiting for?"