Chapter 631: St Mungo's Hospital
The next morning, the storm continued to impose its will.
The ceiling of the Great Hall was a sea of gloomy clouds and dismal mist, occasionally emitting the bright flash of lightning.
As Sean ate his breakfast and studied this term's timetable, large, rolling masses of leaden-grey clouds churned directly above his head.
[Dark Arts and Basic Defense Against the Dark Arts Practical Class]…
Sean looked at these two newly added courses, pondering exactly how they would unfold.
At the table ahead, sitting a few seats away, Fred and George were discussing how to obtain the pass from the two professors that Headmaster Dumbledore had mentioned.
Fred claimed they would have to wrestle a fire-breathing dragon, while George stated he could do it with one hand tied behind his back. Hermione rolled her eyes at them and resumed her conversation with Justin.
"Today is brilliant... we're outdoors all morning," Justin said, looking at the Monday column on his timetable. "Herbology, we have that together, and Care of Magical Creatures..."
Just then, a rustling sound echoed from above, and a hundred owls flew in through the open windows, bringing everyone the morning mail.
Amidst the flurry of grey and white feathers, a small number of people noticed that the Great Hall's notice board had been updated.
"Brilliant news!" Ron exclaimed. "Both of today's classes are cancelled—"
"Eh?"
"Are you serious?"
The Great Hall became as rowdy as usual.
Sean gazed out the window at the distant mountains; the curtain of rain had woven itself into a blanket covering them.
The rain was simply too heavy. Under such extreme weather conditions, the cancellation of classes actually made perfect sense. Sean packed up the books and newspapers on his desk, deciding to push his plans forward a bit.
…
London in September was experiencing a torrential downpour.
Rain cascaded down from the eaves of the Fairy Tale Shop, looking as though a grey cloth had been tossed down from the sky.
The fire in the hearth had been forced down to half its size by the dampness pouring in, crackling as it struggled to stay alight, emitting a few wisps of blue smoke.
When Sean Green stepped out of the fireplace, Quirrell was standing respectfully off to the side.
"Mr. Green," he said.
"Good morning, Professor Quirrell." The corners of Sean's mouth turned up slightly.
"Good morning, sir." Quirrell couldn't help but break into a grin as well.
"That matter is already being handled. Madam Terra is taking it very seriously; she has mentioned more than once that if one falls, the rest will soon follow..."
As Quirrell spoke and Sean nodded, they walked out of the Fairy Tale Shop. Passing through another special fireplace, the two arrived at an unfamiliar street.
That old-fashioned, red-brick department store had already appeared at the end of the rainy veil.
—St Mungo's Hospital.
Also known as St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was the magical hospital located in London, England, founded in the early 1600s by the famous Healer Mungo Bonham. The hospital's emblem was a crossed bone and wand.
From the outside, the hospital looked like an old-fashioned, red-brick department store named Purge and Dowse Ltd. If one needed to enter St Mungo's, they had to state their business to a dummy in the store's window. Afterwards, much like entering Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King's Cross Station, one simply walked through the glass to arrive in the hospital's reception area.
Sean looked up; the sign for "Purge and Dowse Ltd." was dripping with water.
The dummies in the window, dressed in outdated Muggle women's clothing, were covered in a layer of water droplets that had seeped in through the cracks in the glass. Sean walked up to the main front window and, speaking in a steady voice to the female dummy wearing a green pinafore dress, said, "I'm here to visit patients."
The sound of the rain was incredibly loud.
He saw the dummy's eyes roll toward him. Plastic and rigid, yet appearing remarkably alive.
Alchemy... Sean recognized it at a glance.
The dummy stared at him for a moment, then gave a slight nod. He lifted his foot and stepped right through the glass.
The moment he passed through, the icy scent of rain was instantly stripped away, replaced by the warmth of the St Mungo's waiting room, which felt even more intense in contrast to the storm outside.
He was dripping wet. The hem of his robes spread a small, dark puddle of water onto the floor. Oddly enough, however, along the way the rain had seemed to actively avoid him, preferring to fall on an invisible barrier of air rather than landing on him.
This profoundly magical sight was something Quirrell had only ever seen on one other person.
"Your magic has advanced further," Quirrell said respectfully.
"Ah, it is the wizard's will... I've compiled this section into a booklet..." As if remembering something, Sean took out a handwritten manuscript and placed it in Quirrell's hands. "It is best read by a wizard possessing a [Master] or higher understanding of magic. I must ask you, Professor, to help me review the first draft... This is the very first copy, and there are still many areas that require revision."
Quirrell froze for a moment. Sean was already walking forward.
The hall was a bit darker than it would be on a sunny day. Magical candles hovered near the ceiling, their flames burning all the more fiercely against the gloomy daylight outside, casting the entire hall in a thick, amber glow.
The magical health poster on the wall was scrolling flashing words:
[Monthly Werewolf Bite Self-Check: Early Detection, Early Treatment!]
The exclamation mark at the end flashed rather glaringly.
At the desk marked with "Enquiries," the plump witch's green robes looked very dark in the overcast light. The cover of the register book in front of her was slightly damp, its writing looking a bit faded. She looked up at Sean, her gaze lingering for a second on his handsome face.
"Visiting who?"
"Remus Lupin and Sirius Black."
The witch flipped through the register. A line of text automatically lit up on the page, and she glanced at it. "Lupin is on the fifth floor, Spell Damage. Black is on the second floor, Creature-Induced Injuries. Visiting hours end at four in the afternoon."
She paused and glanced at his robes, which were dripping despite not looking wet. "Gifts for patients must be inspected—every gift must undergo a thorough check to ensure its safety before being handed over. You have to be especially careful on rainy days; things that are too damp aren't allowed in."
St Mungo's was a strictly, almost harshly regulated hospital; gifts brought inside had to be vetted. Sean could even recall that in the original timeline in 1995, Healer Miriam Strout neglected these strict gift regulations and brought in a cleverly disguised Devil's Snare sent by Death Eaters, which ultimately led to the death of Broderick Bode.
The reception witch gave him another look, as if confirming something. Only after he had walked away did he hear a commotion from behind:
"Blimey! It's Mr. Green! The Mr. Green, I forgot to ask him for an autograph—"
It was Sean's first time at St Mungo's, and he had been curious about this hospital for a long time. So he decided to head to the fifth floor first, which would allow him to look at every floor on his way up.
Characters on the directory sign were spaced out along the wall of the stairwell:
Second Floor — Creature-Induced Injuries, handling bites, stings, burns, embedded spines, etc.
Third Floor — Magical Bugs, treating Dragon Pox, Vanishing Sickness, Scrofungulus.
Fourth Floor — Potions and Plant Poisoning, handling rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable giggling.
Fifth Floor — Spell Damage, responsible for treating unliftable jinxes, hexes, and incorrectly applied charms.
Accompanied by the faint sound of footsteps, Sean arrived on the fifth floor. The walls here were pale green, and the sound of the rain was completely blocked out by the stone walls of St Mungo's.
Sean easily found Lupin's ward; there was a photograph of him right next to the door. Amusingly enough, when the hospital had snapped the picture to put on display outside, he had been grimacing in pain while his wounds were being disinfected.
Click—
Sean pushed the door open and walked in. Just in time to see a patient whacking a Healer over the head with a bedpan.