Deep in the halls of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, in the mental health wing, behind the fourth door on the right, an elderly wizard sat in a gold satin wingback chair and stared out the window. It was springtime outside. It had been so long since the man had felt the sun on his cheeks or the wind tickling his silver beard.
"Meow." He said, suddenly remembering his dear old friend. "Meeooow."
The door opened behind him but he continued to stare through the glass and meow quietly to himself.
"Thas righ'. Thas what a cat says." Spoke a deep, rumbly voice. "Now it's time ter take yer medicine."
The old man turned around in the chair and squinted over the top of his half-moon glasses to discover the owner of the voice. He was a large man, no, a huge man. He had dark eyes and a very unruly black beard. He was dressed head to toe in white and carried a silver tray. Something about him was familiar to the old wizard. Oh! He visited me yesterday too. That's it. He thought.
The younger, larger man came closer and set the tray on a table next to the bed. He then removed two small cups and walked to the window where he stooped down to speak with the older man as if he were a child.
"Here's yer pills, sir. Take 'em like a good patient does, now."
The old man obliged, dumping the contents of one cup into his mouth and chasing it with the water in the other cup. He quietly handed both cups to the man in white as a single tear fell from his icy blue eyes.
"What's the matter, sir?"
"My friend never got medicine." He looked down to his lap and wrung his hands together. "You could have saved her with medicine, but you didn't! She was my best friend!" The patient let out a painful wail.
The nurse took his large hand and placed it over the man's more frail hands. "No medicine could've saved her." He said as he stood to leave.
"She was a cat, you know! My best friend was a cat. Meow." He said.
The huge, dark man closed the door gently and left the older man alone.
"Meow."