Draught of Living Death (T.R.)

two

The sound of people yelling in her room had grudgingly woken Guinevere up. She blinked her eyes open slowly. Her head throbbing and vision hazy. In front of her, she could vaguely make out the shape of the hospital wing. The smell of fresh linens and sterilizing chemicals a unique but memorable scent. Her bed squeaked as she pulled herself up into a sitting position, and she lifted her head to observe the room some more, only to hit her head against someone elses face.

"Ow!" Yelled the ginger in front of her, pulling the rest of the room's attention over to where Gwen and the tall freckled boy sat.

The boy sitting on her bed was a student. And a Gryffindor no less. He was wearing a Hogwarts uniform, minus the robes, was well built, and had an easy going grin.
If she wasn't so confused as to why he was on her bed, she would have thought he was handsome.
Behind him she noticed the room full of people. All who's loud conversations turned into hushed whispers upon seeing her awaken.

The sudden bump to the forehead as well as the presence of all the strange people in the room wiped all traces of drowsiness from Gwen's body. She sat upright, her attention focused on the odd group of students and adults as well as a large black shaggy dog surrounding a black-haired boy with an oddly shaped scar on the hospital bed next to hers.

Before she could question the group of people as to who they were and why they were staring at her, a portly little man wearing a pinstriped cloak stormed into the room.

"Wheres Dumbledore!" The man demanded of the red-headed motherly looking woman standing by the boy's bedside.

"He's not here," She replied angrily. "This is a hospital wing Minister, don't you think you'd do better to-"

Had she said Minister? But the Minister of Magic was Leonard Spencer-Moon. Unless something had happened since he was appointed in 1939...

Then the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping into the ward.

"What has happened?" Said Dumbledore sharply, looking from the Minister to the grey-haired professor Gwen recognized from Headmaster Dippets office. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you -- I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch --"

The grey-haired woman who Gwen now identified as Minerva shrieked back, "There is no need to guard over him anymore Dumbledore! The Minister has seen to that!"

There were angry blotches of color staining Minerva's cheeks, and her hands were balled into fists; she was trembling with fury.

A greasy-haired man wearing black robes stepped forward, interrupting Minerva with his low drawl, "When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch--

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" Minerva fumed. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot in the castle, but--"

"My dear woman!" The Minister roared, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous--"

But Minerva's voice drowned out the Ministers. "The moment that-- that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at the Minister, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and -- and --"

Gwen felt a chill in her stomach as the professor struggled to find words to describe what had happened. She didn't need the woman to finish her sentence to understand that a dementor's kiss had been delivered that night, even if Gwen didn't fully comprehend the situation she had found herself thrown into.