The days at Hogwarts

"There have been many incidents in history where dangerous objects have entered and caused casualties among patients. During the last wizarding war, some people with bad intentions attempted to attack the hospital. Since then, the security measures at St. Mungo's have been tightened."

"Originally, the hospital was going to be opened in Diagon Alley, but there was not enough space there, and the Traceless Extension Charm would affect other spells. It also couldn't be hidden underground like the Ministry of Magic, as many patients needed to be exposed to the sun. In the end, they built a place here, which is also convenient for treating some Muggle injuries."

Loren asked suspiciously, "A Muggle injury?"

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

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Magic items always flow into the Muggle community inexplicably. Fingers are bitten off by door handles, and limbs are broken by Quaffles that appear out of nowhere. Unlucky Muggles are often brought here. They need to receive emergency treatment for bone regeneration and memory modification."

Loren: "..."

So what is the Ministry of Magic for?

As they gradually approached St. Mungo's, a smile appeared on Madam Pomfrey's lips. Led by Madam Pomfrey, after many twists and turns, the three of them walked out of an inconspicuous corridor and suddenly saw the light.

Unlike the deserted alley just now, this wide street was bustling with Muggle pedestrians, and the shops on both sides were crowded with Christmas customers.

Lockhart looked at everything on the street with great interest, and the pedestrians on the street occasionally looked at them with strange eyes.

"I forgot to change into Muggle clothes," Madam Pomfrey patted her head belatedly, "Luckily Christmas is coming soon, so we won't be so conspicuous."

Madam Pomfrey wore a swallowtail hat and a neat white smock that looked like the waiter uniform of some high-end restaurant. Lockhart wore a decent suit, but Loren's robe looked a little strange.

The streets during the Christmas holidays were also decorated with all kinds of strange decorations, and some stores even had clerks dressed as Santa Claus at the door. Pedestrians on the street came and went in a hurry, and although they were somewhat unique, they did not attract much attention.

Madam Pomfrey would occasionally pull the clumsy Lockhart aside to prevent them from being separated by a swarm of shoppers who were only trying to squeeze into the electronics store next door - the Christmas sales were very tempting.

After a moment, Madam Pomfrey said, "Here we are."

In front of me was an old-fashioned red brick department store, with a large sign on the dusty door saying "Closed for Renovation". I could barely make out the name of Tao Tao Co., Ltd. on the old sign.

It looked desolate and deserted, with several old and cracked plastic mannequins in the window, wearing crooked wigs and different postures, and wearing clothes that were at least ten years old. The ugliest one in the middle was wearing a green, ugly dress made of cheap nylon that had oxidized and changed color.

However, these things seemed to be full of unusual mysteries. Loren looked at the transparent glass window in front of him and the plastic models inside. Everything here was filled with mottled magical brilliance of various colors, Muggle-repelling spells, traceless extension spells, protection spells, anti-space magic...

There were dozens of spells whose effects could be identified, and there were various alchemy arrays inside the display case. He even felt a sense of familiarity from them, as if Nicolas Flamel had also participated in the design and construction of St. Mungo's.

Within the magical range of St. Mungo's, the surrounding Muggle pedestrians hurried past them as if ignoring them completely.

While Madam Pomfrey wasn't paying attention, Loren wiped the glass and rubbed off a fingertip of dust. He silently complained in his heart that this place must have never been open.

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

The plastic dummy's eyes flickered, and it nodded slightly and waved its stiff fingers at them. Madam Pomfrey grabbed their 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 were 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 a gaze on his face and looked towards its source. Next to the slogan was a large portrait of a witch with long silver curls, with the words:

Delise Devont

St Mungo's Healer (1722-1741)

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

There was also a portrait of her on the wall of Dumbledore's office, but the frame was not as big as this one. Dalis 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 reported back to Dumbledore.

Rows of male and female wizard patients sat on rickety wooden chairs. Some of them looked normal, passing the time with outdated copies of Witch Weekly and Daily Prophet in their hands.

If it weren't for the witch in the front row making sharp, rapid bird-like sounds while reading the newspaper, Loren would have thought they were normal people.

Some people have strange appearances, such as having eyes all over their faces, mouths and noses running to their foreheads, and an extra hand growing on their chests... In short, you can tell at a glance that they need treatment.

Several healers walked around among the waiting patients, asking questions and occasionally making notes on a writing board. They wore identical green robes with badges on their chests embroidered with a wand and crossed bones.

At the front left of the waiting room was the information desk, where a fat blonde witch was sitting, answering questions from a middle-aged wizard with a look of despair on her face.

The middle-aged wizard tilted his head and raised his hands in surrender. He excitedly introduced himself: "I found a mask from Borgin and Burke's yesterday. It disappeared as soon as I put it on my face. After that, I can move the positions of my facial features at will, like a jigsaw puzzle! But it didn't work when I woke up this morning. I have to put them back in place."

The blonde witch looked at the horrifying face in front of her, her eyes twitching constantly. She would definitely cast a few forgetfulness spells on herself later to erase this face from her mind.

Only the ears were left on the wizard's face. His mouth had 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 his palms.

"Your current state doesn't prevent you from reading, does it?" the blonde witch struggled to squeeze out the words from her throat.

"Of course, I feel that my vision has broadened!" The middle-aged wizard seemed to be very proud, waving his hands non-stop.

The blonde witch's eyelids twitched and she pointed to the large sign to the left of the desk, "You need to go to the Charms Damage Department on the fifth floor."

The sign reads:

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

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

Third floor - Department of Strange Bacteria Infection (responsible for treating infectious diseases such as dragon pox, vanishing disease, and lymphomycosis.)

Fourth floor - Pharmacy and Plant Poisoning Department (responsible for treating rashes, nausea, uncontrollable laughter, etc.)

Fifth Floor - Spell Damage Department (responsible for treating poisonous curses, evil curses, incorrectly used spells, etc.)

Sixth floor - tea room and shop ()

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

The male wizard patient with an extra hand on his chest squeezed to the information desk. The hand was almost constantly waving in front of the witch's eyes. He said embarrassedly: "I also bought it from Borgin and Burke's."

The blonde witch took a deep breath, and finally couldn't stand it any longer. She turned around and shouted towards the room behind her: "Jessica! Write to the Ministry of Magic and report that Borgin and Burke's is selling dark magic items again!"

The noisy sounds in the waiting room continued...

"Come on, we need to get to the fifth floor." Madam Pomfrey, who knew the place well, led Loren and Lockhart through the double doors and down a narrow corridor where candles were wrapped in crystal bubbles and floated on the ceiling, and on both sides were portraits of famous healers.

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

They climbed the crooked stairs all the way to the fifth floor and entered a room in the Spellbound Damage Department.

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

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

"Long time no see, Meliam," Madam Pomfrey responded just as happily.

Releasing her embrace, she grabbed Madam Pomfrey's hand and shook it continuously, joking with a smile on her face: "When will Poppy become the headmaster of Hogwarts? I'm waiting to hear good news from you!"

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes at her, "Don't be ridiculous. I'm here with a patient."

Speaking of patients, Meliam became serious. They pulled Lockhart to sit down, gave him a series of examinations, and asked all kinds of strange questions.

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

Lockhart tilted his head, frowned, and hesitated for a long time before uttering a word: "Gilderoy."

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

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

This time Lockhart pondered for a long time, but still could not come up with an answer. He was so anxious that his teeth were bared and his face turned red. As he was thinking, Lockhart suddenly widened his eyes and said, "Why do you want to ask my name? Do you want my autograph?"

Driven by some muscle memory, he grabbed the feather pen on the table and wanted to write his name in the notebook, but stopped just before he started writing.

"I, I can't write my name..." Lockhart muttered, standing there in a daze for a moment.

He had practiced countless times, and his instinct to sign countless times drove him to do so, but until the ink on the tip of the feather pen spread out on the paper, Lockhart could no longer remember how to start writing.

A great sadness that he could not understand came over him.

Merillam took the paper and pen from him, scribbled something in the notebook, then turned to Pomfrey and whispered, "Permanent curse damage, he can't even remember who he is. Merlin bless him, he can only rely on intensive treatment and a bit of luck to make his condition better."

Loren heard every word of these words. He looked at Lockhart, who looked like a child, smiled gently, and said in a voice that only he could hear: "Principal Dumbledore, is this what you want me to see?"

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

Chapter 218 Conversation in the Closed Ward

After filling in information and registering for a long time, Meliam completed the hospitalization procedures for Lockhart and prepared to place him in a closed ward.

Loren and Madam Pomfrey followed the female therapist, planning to visit the ward and return to Hogwarts after understanding the treatment plan, one to report to Dumbledore and the other to Vice-Principal McGonagall.

Meliam led the three of them to the door of Janus Sichy's ward, pointed her wand at the door, and said "Alaho Open", and the door opened.

"He doesn't know who he is, and if he goes out he won't remember how to come back. This is too dangerous for him. So we have to put him in a closed ward to prevent him from running away," Meliam explained worriedly.

She held Lockhart's arm tightly and walked into the ward, placing him on a bed against the wall in the room, leaving a pen and paper for him to practice signing quietly beside the bed.

She held the notebook in her hand and explained the follow-up treatment plan to the two: "His soul and memory are like oatmeal porridge just out of the pot, a mess. The problems with the soul and consciousness are very difficult. We can only rely on intensive treatment and luck to make him regain more consciousness."

"Don't worry even if he can't recover. Someone will take good care of him. The generous Mr. Lucius Malfoy recently donated a large sum of money to the hospital." Meliam squinted her eyes and smiled warmly.

Loren listened to the therapist's instructions silently. Madam Pomfrey was memorizing some key points. She would report to Professor McGonagall when she returned.

There were other patients in the ward, a gray-faced, sad-looking wizard, and a hairy witch...

And leaning against the two innermost beds, there was a wizard with a slightly swollen body and dull eyes, and a witch in pajamas, with a thin and haggard face. Her eyes were particularly large, and her hair was a mottled and withered white. In her hand was a piece of wrapper of Blowing Super Bubble Gum.

There was a dull knock on the door outside the ward, and Meliam suddenly remembered something. She quickly glanced at the calendar on the wall and exclaimed, "Oh, I almost forgot, today is the day Mrs. Longbottom comes to visit!"

Madam Pomfrey sighed imperceptibly when she heard the name.

"I'm coming, wait a moment!" Meliam called out and hurried to open the door of the ward.

Loren had a vague guess in his mind, and following the female therapist's movements, he looked towards the door and saw two people walking in from outside.

An old witch who looked a little scary, wearing a green robe, different from the healer's green robe, this one was brighter in color and had more luxurious patterns on it. The old witch was wearing worm-eaten fox fur, and her pointed hat was decorated with a stuffed vulture.

Behind her followed a stiff little boy - Neville.

At the door, Neville's grandmother was communicating with the therapist about the recent situation of Neville's parents.

Neville obviously noticed the extra people in the ward. His eyes stayed on Lockhart for a long time, then he looked at Madam Pomfrey, and finally he looked at Laurent meaningfully.

As they got closer, Neville whispered hello to Madam Pomfrey, then with a complicated look on his face, he greeted Loren in a dazed voice, "Loren, I didn't expect to see you here."

He paused, unable to hold back his complaint: "So, just like Seamus said, you guys rushed into action right after the holiday, and even sent Lockhart directly to St. Mungo's Hospital?"

Um! ?

How can you say we are like dark wizards?

"What are you talking about!" Loren retorted weakly, but the facts were there and his rebuttal had little strength.

He muttered, "We dealt with the basilisk and found out the heir to the Chamber of Secrets. Lockhart is just..."

Neville didn't hear the rest of the words clearly, but he nodded in understanding: "Poor Seamus, he really missed it."

The patient's condition was stable, just like the past ten years, with no good news or bad news, and it was all said in a few words. Madam Longbottom approached, greeted Madam Pomfrey, and turned her attention to Lauren.

Neville's grandmother obviously heard their conversation and said kindly, "Is this your friend, little Neville?"

Being called this name in front of his roommates, Neville had never understood Ron so well. He was called "Ronnie the Baby" in public by his brothers countless times.

Neville's chubby face turned red all of a sudden. He didn't dare to look at Loren's eyes. He wished he could use some magic to appear anywhere in the world instead of staying here.

"Loren, Loren..." His grandmother repeated it twice and stretched out a dry, eagle-claw-like hand for him to shake. "Yes, yes, Neville told me about you. It was you who taught him how to make frozen pears and helped him through many difficulties. Isn't that right? You are a good child."

"Hello, Mrs. Longbottom. Neville always mentions you in front of us. At school, he often says he misses his grandmother." Loren shook hands politely and praised Neville.

But this didn't sound like a compliment to Mrs. Longbottom. She looked down at Neville with a stern and scrutinizing gaze along her pointed nose, and said in a stiff tone: "You are really useless. You should concentrate on studying at school. Why are you thinking about me? I have to say that you don't have your father's talent, and you don't have any talent."

Neville opened his mouth but couldn't say anything. His originally blushing face gradually lost its color and turned pale.

Loren's eyebrows knitted into knots when he heard this. No wonder Neville lacked confidence and was always submissive. With such parents and such an educational environment, anyone would become autistic.

Seeing that his grandmother was about to scold Neville, Loren retorted, "Mrs. Longbottom, Neville is not lacking in talent. He has his own unique talents. In fact, he performed very well last semester."

"His grades in Herbology have always been good, and after getting a new wand, his Charms and Transfiguration skills have also improved rapidly. He passed the selection test and joined Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration Club. In the dueling course, he has shown extraordinary ability."

Loren turned to look at Neville, who had been looking down at the floor and his shoes, and raised his voice, "Didn't you tell your grandmother?"

Neville was a little at a loss, standing there not knowing what to say.

"Really? Oh, I mean, he never showed any signs of anything." Mrs. Longbottom was surprised, but she couldn't believe it. The terrifying vulture specimen on her hat kept shaking.

"I...I..." Neville had never encountered such a situation before and stuttered, unable to speak.

Seeing this, Loren glared at him in frustration, then turned to talk to Mrs. Longbottom, "As early as the first grade, Neville was able to beat Vincent Crabbe from Slytherin by himself. Mrs. Longbottom, if you are well-informed, you should know that the man is a little black wizard who has been detained by the Ministry of Magic. At the Dueling Club event this year, he dared to attack the python summoned by the little black wizard and protected other students. He can be said to be the bravest one."

The breath of joy emanated from every part of Mrs. Longbottom's body, but she tried to restrain herself and did not completely believe Loren's words. She cast her eyes to Madam Pomfrey beside her, trying to verify it with the resident therapist of Hogwarts.

Madam Pomfrey nodded.

She was very familiar with Neville. Among the second-year wizards, Neville was the one who went to the school infirmary most frequently. Not to mention the accidents in the potions class, just falling down the stairs, being teased by various plants in the herb class, and being too close to Seamus in the spells class, these accidents made Neville meet Madam Pomfrey almost every week.

Madam Pomfrey had a good impression of the little boy and added, "He is also very talented in the field of healer."