Chapter 217 St. Mungo’s Hospital

"Are you a doctor? Why am I here?" Lockhart guessed based on Madam Pomfrey's dress.

"Poor Professor Lockhart." Madam Pomfrey sighed, opening his eyelids to look at the pupils.

"Oh, you called me Professor Lockhart." Lockhart let her fingers fiddle with him. "I'm a professor? My God, I thought I wouldn't be very promising!"

"Merlin's beard," said Madam Pomfrey. She shook her head and asked softly, "Gilderoy Lockhart, do you remember what year it is now and how old you are?"

"Which year?" Lockhart opened his mouth in confusion and thought about it blankly, but after thinking for a long time, he could not come up with an answer.

Madam Pomfrey interrupted his thoughts: "Get up, we are leaving for St. Mungo's Sanatorium."

Although he didn't know what St. Mungo's Sanatorium was, Lockhart got out of bed neatly, put on his shoes, and stayed beside Madam Pomfrey obediently.

"Fortunately, Principal Dumbledore opened a back door for us..." Ms. Pomfrey muttered, taking out a silver syringe from the cabinet where medical equipment was stored.

Both Loren and Lockhart looked at the silver needle cylinder curiously, which was a door key to St. Mungo's. However, the slender needle tip shone with a sharp cold light and seemed to be more than just for decoration.

I don’t know if it was made by Dumbledore or Ms. Pomfrey herself. As the resident therapist, Ms. Pomfrey has close communication with St. Mungo’s. If it weren’t for the special magic of Hogwarts, she would definitely apply for it. Hogwarts and St. Mungo's Floo Network.

"Come, gentlemen, come closer." Madam Pomfrey greeted, asking the two of them to put their hands on the silver syringe.

"Okay, I'll count to three, one—two—three—"

A hook was hooked a little behind the navel, and with a sharp tug, the solid feeling of the feet on the ground disappeared, and the hands were firmly stuck to the silver needle barrel. The weightless feeling showed that they had been spinning colors and whirring. They moved forward in the roar of the wind, the syringe pulling them along.

Accompanied by the sudden feeling of falling to the ground, his feet suddenly hit the ground, causing his knees to bend. Madam Pomfrey's voice rang in her ears: "We're here."

This was a small and narrow red phone booth, and it was a bit crowded for three people to squeeze inside. Madam Pomfrey opened the door first and walked out, and Lockhart followed Madam Pomfrey with brisk steps.

Loren finally walked out and found that they were in a deserted alley. The back end of the alley was blocked by a red brick wall, leaving only an opening for entry and exit. The neat brick walls on both sides and the graffiti on them all highlight the Muggle characteristics.

It seemed that this was not St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Maladies. Loren asked curiously: "Ms. Pomfrey, why doesn't the portkey lead directly to the interior of St. Mungo's Hospital?"

"In order to protect the safety of patients, everything entering St. Mungo's must be inspected, whether it is people or objects." Ms. Pomfrey quickly led the two people out of the opening and turned into another complex with complicated roads. alley.

"There have been many accidents in history where dangerous objects entered and resulted in patient casualties. During the last Wizarding War, some malicious people attempted to attack the hospital. Since then, St. Mungo's security measures have become even stricter."

"Originally, the hospital was planned to be opened in Diagon Alley, but there was not enough land there. The Traceless Stretch Spell would have an impact on other spells. It couldn't be hidden underneath like the Ministry of Magic. Many patients needed to bask in the sun. In the end, they We’ve built a place here to help deal with some Muggle injuries.”

Loren asked doubtfully: "Muggle injuries?"

"Yes, many of St. Mungo's patients are Muggles."

Madam Pomfrey nodded, "Magic items always leak out into Muggle society inexplicably. Fingers are bitten off by biting doorknobs, limbs are broken off by Quaffles that appear out of nowhere, and there are often unlucky Muggles. The melons were brought here where they needed first aid for bone regeneration and memory modification.”

Loren: "..."

So what exactly is the Ministry of Magic for?

As they gradually approached St. Mungo's, a smile appeared on Madam Pomfrey's lips. Under Madam Pomfrey's leadership, after going around seven times, the three of them walked out of an inconspicuous aisle, suddenly enlightened.

Different from the deserted alley just now, this wide street is full of Muggle pedestrians, and the shops on both sides are crowded with Christmas customers.

Lockhart looked at everything on the street with interest, and the passers-by on the street occasionally looked at them strangely.

"I forgot to put on Muggle clothes," Ms. Pomfrey said, then patted her head belatedly, "Fortunately, Christmas is coming, and we are not so conspicuous."

Madam Pomfrey was wearing a tail hat and a neat white smock, which looked like a waiter uniform in some high-end restaurant. Lockhart was wearing a decent suit, but Loren's robe was a bit strange.

The streets during the Christmas holidays are also decorated with all kinds of strange decorations, and some stores have clerks dressed as Santa Claus in front of them. Pedestrians on the street came and went in a hurry. Although they were somewhat unique, they did not attract too many people's attention.

Madam Pomfrey occasionally tugged at Lockhart, who was not in his right mind, to prevent them from being dispersed by a group of shoppers who just wanted to squeeze into the adjacent electronics store - the Christmas discount was very tempting.

After a moment, Madam Pomfrey said, "We're here."

In front of you is an old-fashioned red brick department store, with a big "Closed for Renovation" sign hanging on the dusty door. The name of Taotao Co., Ltd. can be barely recognized from the old signboard.

It looks dilapidated and deserted. There are several aging and cracked plastic dummies in the window, wearing crooked wigs and different postures, and wearing clothes from at least ten years ago. The ugliest one in the middle was wearing a green dress with an ugly style. The fabric was made of cheap-looking nylon and had become oxidized and discolored.

However, these things seemed to be full of unusual mysteries. Loren looked at the transparent glass window in front of him and the plastic mannequins inside. Everything here was filled with mottled magical radiance, Muggle expulsion spells, and traceless stretching spells. , protection spell, anti-space magic...

There were dozens of spells that could be identified, and there were various alchemy arrays inside the display window. He even felt a familiar feeling from it. It seemed that Nico Flamel was also involved in the design and design of St. Mungo's. put up.

Within the magical range of St. Mungo's, the surrounding Muggle pedestrians seemed to completely ignore them and hurried past them.

When Madam Pomfrey was not paying attention, Loren wiped the glass and rubbed the dust on his fingertips. He silently complained in his heart that this place must have never been open.

Madam Pomfrey spoke to the ugliest plastic mannequin, her breath causing a blur of fog to form on the transparent glass: "A patient with magical injuries needs treatment."

The plastic dummy's eyes flashed, and he nodded slightly to them, waving his stiff fingers. Madam Pomfrey grabbed both men's arms and disappeared through the glass.

They came to a crowded waiting room, and Loren looked around with interest, taking in everything in this magical hospital. The surrounding walls are covered with notices and notices: Cleaning the crucible can prevent the potion from turning into poison, and the antidote must be approved by a qualified healer...

Loren suddenly felt an appraising gaze and looked towards the source of the gaze. Next to the slogan was a large portrait of a witch with long silver curls hanging down. It said:

Delise Devont

St. Mungo's Healer (1722-1741)

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (1741-1768)

There is also a portrait of her on the wall of Dumbledore's principal's office, but the frame is not as big. Delis met Loren's gaze, she blinked slightly, smiled at him, walked out of the frame from the side and disappeared.

Loren guessed that she might have gone back to Dumbledore to report the news.

Rows of male and female wizard patients sat on rickety wooden chairs. Some of them looked normal, holding expired copies of "Wizard Weekly" and "Daily Prophet" to pass the time.

Loren would have thought they were normal people if it weren't for the sound of a witch in the front row making a high-pitched bird call while reading a newspaper.

There are also some people with strange shapes, such as their faces being covered with eyes, their mouths and noses running onto their foreheads, and an extra hand growing out of their chests... In short, you can tell at a glance that they need treatment.

Several therapists walked around among the waiting patients, asking about the situation and writing down a few notes on their writing boards from time to time. They wore the same green robes, and the badges on their chests were embroidered with a pattern of a wand crossing bones.

In the front left of the waiting room is the information desk, where a fat blond witch is sitting, answering the questions of a middle-aged wizard with a look of despair.

The middle-aged wizard tilted his head, raised both palms in a gesture of surrender, and excitedly introduced his situation loudly: "I bought a mask from Bojinbok store yesterday. When I put it on my face, it disappeared immediately. After that, I I can move the position of my facial features at will, just like a jigsaw puzzle! But it didn’t work when I woke up this morning. I have to get them back to their original positions."

The blonde witch looked at the terrifying face in front of her, and her eyes kept twitching. She would cast a few forgetting spells on herself later to clear this face from her mind.

Only the ears were left on the wizard's face, his mouth moved to the middle of his face, and his nose was on the Adam's apple of his neck. He raised his hands because his eyes were blinking in the palms of his hands.

"The way you look now doesn't prevent you from reading, right?" The blonde witch forced her voice out of her throat with difficulty.

"Of course, I feel that my horizons have broadened!" The middle-aged wizard seemed very proud, waving his hands constantly.

The blonde witch's eyelids twitched and she pointed to the big sign on the left side of the table: "You have to go to the Curse Injury Department on the fifth floor."

The sign reads:

First Floor - Artifact Accident Department (responsible for treating accidents caused by artifacts, including crucible explosions, wand misfires, broom collisions, etc.)

Second floor - Biological Injury Department (responsible for treating stings, burns, punctures, etc.)

Third floor - Department of Strange Bacteria and Infections (responsible for the treatment of infectious diseases such as dragon pox, disappearing syndrome, lymphatic mycositis.)

Fourth floor - Department of Pharmacy and Phytotoxicity (responsible for treating skin rashes, nausea, incessant laughter, etc.)

Fifth Floor - Curse Injury Department (responsible for treating poisonous curses, evil curses, wrong curses, etc. that cannot be removed.)

Sixth floor - tea room and shop ()

"Oh, I thought this was the Object Accident Department!" The middle-aged wizard walked away happily.

The wizard patient with an extra hand on his chest squeezed to the inquiry desk. The hand almost kept waving in front of the witch's eyes. He said sheepishly: "I also bought it from Bojinbok store."

The blonde witch took a deep breath and couldn't bear it anymore. She turned her head and shouted towards the room behind her: "Jessica! Write to the Ministry of Magic and report that Borgin Bock is selling dark magic items again!"

The lively sounds in the waiting room continue...

"Come on, we have to go to the fifth floor." Madam Pomfrey was very familiar with this place. She led Loren and Lockhart through the double doors and walked through a narrow corridor. Candles were wrapped in crystal bubbles. Floating from the ceiling, it is flanked by portraits of famous therapists.

Loren noticed that the first and last person in the queue was Mungo Bonham (1560-1659). The Mungo in St. Mungo refers to the healer who founded the Hospital for Magical Maladies and Maladies.

They climbed the crooked stairs to the fifth floor and entered a room in the Curse Injury Department.

The room is not big, and the furnishings are very simple. There is only a cabinet, a table, and two chairs.

A female therapist who was about the same age as Pomfrey, wearing a green robe and a gold and silver wreath on her head, stood up happily, rushed forward and gave Ms. Pomfrey a warm and affectionate hug: "Poppy! Long time no see! "

"Long time no see, Meriam." Madam Pomfrey responded equally happily.

Loosening her embrace, she grabbed Madam Pomfrey's hand and shook it, smiling and joking: "When will Poppy become the principal of Hogwarts? I'm waiting to hear your good news!"

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes at her: "No kidding, I have a patient here."

When talking about patients, Meriam became serious. They sat Lockhart down, performed a series of examinations on him, and asked all kinds of weird questions.

Meriam gave Lockhart a warm, motherly smile: "Hello, poor little lamb, do you remember your name?"

Lockhart tilted his head, frowned, hesitated and thought for a long time, and managed to spit out one word: "Gilderoy."

Speaking the word, Lockhart's face lit up with a bright smile, he raised his hands and cheered: "Gilderoy! Oh, yes, Gilderoy!"

"Very good, what's behind Gilderoy, do you remember?" Meliam continued to ask.

This time Lockhart thought hard for a long time, but still couldn't come up with an answer. He bared his teeth and claws in anxiety, and his face turned red. Just thinking about it, Lockhart's eyes suddenly widened: "Why are you asking for my name? Do you want my signature?"

Driven by some kind of muscle memory, he grabbed the quill pen on the table and wanted to write his name in the notebook, but stopped when he was about to finish writing.

"I, I can't write my name..." Lockhart murmured, frozen in place for a moment.

He had practiced countless times, and the instinct of signing his signature drove him to do this countless times, but until the ink on the tip of the quill smeared out a halo of ink on the paper, Lockhart could no longer remember how to write.

A great sadness, which he could not understand, came over him.

Merlin took the pen and paper from his hand, wrote something in the notebook, turned to Pomfrey and whispered: "The permanent spell hurts him, and he can't even remember who he is. Merlin bless him, only With intensive treatment and a little bit of luck, the condition can get better."

These words fell into Loren's ears word by word. He looked at Lockhart who was like a child, smiled slightly, and said in a voice that only he could hear: "Headmaster Dumbledore, this is you. Do you want me to see it?"

Thinking of the detailed information about Bates in those manuscripts, Loren thought to himself, I don't regret it at all...