Gunhilda woke up to creaking beds and muffled conversations. In the background she could hear moans and sighs, but those were easy to ignore as she was accostumed to Hogwarts Hospital Wing by now. She had been here the longest, and this whole time, she had seen students (and even Professors) come and go. Those movements were the only ones to break the monotony of her days, so she had duly noted everything in her trusty notebook she always brought with her, her scientific mind needing to write down anything.

It was fun after all, and she had easily divided the patients into classes.

I. Hypochondriac people are afraid of anything. They are even afraid of sitting down. During the medical examination they look at the Matron like haunted cats. They're prone to question anything, and when the Matron goes to take their temperature they want to know, "Why?" and "How?" and "How long?" They need to know because they to choose whether they're going to submit to it or not.

II. This category includes all those subjects - and they are way too many - who trust Dr. Library, as I named it. It's easy; you search for your symptoms on some medical textbook, and as soon as they match with some illness, you can be sure you have it, no matter how rare and unknown it is. Then, they show up and tell the Matron that they've read it all and already know what to do. The Matron merely laugh and force them on a bed.

III. The curious ones ar the worst. They need to know everything about you, how you got hurt, which illness you're suffering from, whether you're going to survive, etc.

IV. The ones who need the world to know they're in the Hospital Wing so they can have visitors who inevitably annoy the Matron and the other patients who are just trying to rest.

V. The 'false' ones are basically war machines. They'd willingly sell out their mothers to be the first ones the Matrons treats and heals. They have two choices: sweet-talk the Matron until they give her diabetes, or fake their death in a loud and dramatic way. The latter is the most frequent, eighty-percent chance of success. Matron's reaction: she keeps telling herself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job," her shoulders straightening up with each repetition.

VI. The 'explorers' are the most intersting to listen to, especially if you've been stuck in a bed for more than two weeks. They love jokes, pranks, and crazy experiments. The worn excuse is often, "I slipped."

Gunhilda, her eyes still closed, heard a thud ad a cry. More creakings followed. It didn't take much to understand what was going on; some category V patient trying to get the Matron's attention. Her hand unconsciously slipped under her pillow until she touched the familiar leather the cover of her notebook was made of.

She felt like adding some more information when she perceived the light filtering through the curtains and pressing against her eyelids, but she ignored it and that sensation. She knew what would happen and was not in the mood for it.

Not now.

Glazed, foggy, white. That was what she'd see because of that corneal ulcer she had contracted because of the Dragon Pox - she still didn't know how she had survived but she knew she wanted to do something about it. It was also the main reason she was in this bed now, where white sheets and ceiling seemed to mock her instead of the familiar, cozy colors of her House.

The smell of leather reached her nostrils once more, and she pressed her hands together to resist the temptation.

"Geez, man!" a voice said. "What happened?"

"Hush," another voice that Gunhilda recognized answered. It belonged to the red-haired boy whose bed was beside the door. "Just a Bludger. The Skele-grow worked. I'll be out tomorrow, and we can talk about it in our dorm."

A class IV patient, Gunhilda thought. That's something I have to add to my notes. They usually play modest and reserved when they get visitors they summoned themselves. Lucky him! She sighed longingly. The Matron dismisses him tomorrow...

.

15 years after.

Gunhilda observed the content of her cauldron feeling perplexed. She had been adding ingredients after ingredients, but the shapeless matter resulting from mixing the blood of a girl affected by Dragon Pox, and that was now floating on the surface was of no use to her.

She had analyzed it, and no apparent connection between it and the illness could be found. Mainly because it was too complex and tangled up.

She took the spoon and moved it in a clockwise direction twice before adding dragon's liver and heating.

The content of the cauldron boiled, but nothing changed. Except now the organic matter was even more messed up.

Frustrated, Gunhilda sighed and angrily waved her wand over the cauldron, cleaning it off. Then she kicked the air.

Her blind eye pulsed remembering her of a well-known Infirmary. That eye had been creating her trouble since Hogwarts. From there to her notebook, it was a short road. She remembered her fellow patients who came and went as she could only stay...

It's crazy, she told herself as the thought hit her. But not that much, after all. Or yes? No. It'd never work, would it? Let's try, she thought as she gathered the vials with the ingredients she needed, and started pouring them into the cauldron, heating and mixing until the fluid was homogeneous.

She took the human blood containing the Dragon Pox and solidified it. Then she shattered it until it was a mere dust which she carefully heated, knowing organic materials decompose at very high temperature.

She hoped each particle would decompose differently depending on her composition letting her separate the Pox particles from the rest. It was like the students coming and going. The particles would come and go too. And she would be able to choose the ones whe wanted to study.

The heated and decomposed dust was tossed into the cauldron.

She left it to stand, then she observed it. Sure enough, particles were separated by size. Now she just needed to identify them, pick the ones belonging to the Dragon Pox, and find a way to neutralize them.

Easy!

Her blind eye hurt again, to punish her for her pride but for the first time she didn't care.

She was finally on the right track!


A/N Thank you for reading! First of all, let me apologize for any historical and medical inaccuracy. I know there are many, so please don't be too harsh. I just wrote this for a competition on the Golden Snitch forum and didn't have much time. Sorry!

By the way, the character is supposed to be Gunhilda de Gorsemoor, who discovered a cure for Dragon Pox.

(Event) International Women's Day

Dorothy Hodgkin: Write about a character making an important discovery.

Bonus prompts: (word) scientific, (word) diabetes, (object) cauldron, (subject) potions, (setting) Hospital Wing, Hogwarts, (colour) white

Word count: 1115

School: Beauxbatons, Melusine