Perfectly Imperfect || C. Diggory

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 || 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

I woke up, and Cedric and I were laying on the small hospital bed, bodies pressed together. For minutes, I laid listening to the sound of his heart beating, knowing he was alive and well, breathing and dreaming. It brought me comfort.

Though, I knew he was overwhelmed. I let him relax, sleep, hopefully his thoughts drifting away from the unfortunate events of the Triwizard Tournament. I wouldn't dare bring up anything about You-Know-Who, or the Death Eaters, not now. Not while he was still recovering.

After Harry, he had explained his side of the story to Dumbledore. Evidently, it was almost identical to his, for they were telling the complete truth.

A lot had gone on these past couple of hours. Word had gone around that Barty Crouch was dead. I didn't know anyone personally who that pass would effect, though I did send my condolences to anyone who was close to him.

The sky was dark, and my eyes wanted to close due to the dim lights in the infirmary. I looked outside, the full moon shining light through the window. It was quiet. Harry had come in a few hours prior, and Madam Pomfrey gave him a sleeping potion, so he could dream of nothingness, giving his mind time to breathe.

Coincidentally, Cedric and I had both fallen asleep around the same time as Harry. I was awoken to the sound of voices, shouting voices, in the room. I wondered if they would stop, so the quiet could return, and everyone could go back to sleep. That time didn't come, so I decided to listen in on the conversation instead. I noticed Mrs Weasley, and one of her older sons listening too, along with Ron and Hermione sitting on a chair next to Harry's bed.

I assumed it was going on between Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Cornelius Fudge, since I heard their angry voices in conversation. Suddenly, McGonagall's voice got louder, and more furious.

"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore! The Minister has seen to that!" She exclaimed, her fists clenched together. I was so tired, half of the conversation faded in and out as my eyes slowly began to close again.

Minutes had passed, I knew it because everyone was standing in a different place than they were last time my eyes were open.

"The moment that- that thing entered the room, it swooped down on Crouch, and- and" McGonagall shouted, her voice shaky. I shook my head, trying to regain consciousness. Thing... swooped... I recalled.

A dementor! It had to be what they were talking about. Everyone knew that Dumbledore hated dementors, and thought that they had no place roaming around Hogwarts, and anyone could see the fury in his eyes.

Falling back into a half-sleep again, their voices faded, and I could only hear small bits. "But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius." I heard Dumbledore say. I wondered why.

Dementor... no testimony... why a testimony? His son. They were speaking about his son. Not only Barty Crouch, but his son Barty Crouch Jr was also dead. Bertha Jorkins was pronounced deceased as well, the works of Lord Voldemort.

All of the things us students read in the Daily Prophet this past year was coming together. Everyone we read about, Mr Crouch being missing, and Bertha Jorkins too, they were all dead. Even Professor Moody was discovered an impostor, the real Alastor Moody held hostage. I was lucky Cedric survived. I couldn't imagine having to face Lord Voldemort in real life. He was lucky to have Harry there, who had done this before. I was sure he was plenty of help.

Cedric's eyes fluttered open, and he let out a low murmur, notifying me that he was awake. I took his hand, and kissed his bandaged cheek. I whispered in his ear, catching him up on what was going on. His hand weakly grabbed my waist, letting my head rest on his chest. He was in hurting, I could tell, but I supposed that didn't matter to him.