chapter sixteen : St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
☆ ☆ ☆
Juniper's feet hit the ground and she somehow managed to keep her balance. Next to her, the others fell on the ground, groaning and sighing. They had arrived in the gloomy basement kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. The only sources of light were the fire and one guttering candle, which illuminated the remains of a solitary supper.
"Mistress!" Kreacher exclaimed, hurrying over to June. "Are you all right? Can Kreacher get something for you?"
Juniper shook her head. "I'm all right, Kreacher. Thank you for asking. Perhaps you could give us all some hot chocolate?"
"Certainly," Kreacher said, dashing away to get some hot chocolate.
"What's going on?" Sirius asked, stretching out a hand to help Ginny up. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured —"
"Ask Harry," Fred said.
"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," George added.
The twins and Ginny were staring at Harry.
"It was —" Harry began, hesitatingly. "I had a — a kind of — vision . . ."
And he told them all that he had seen, though June noticed he altered the story so it sounded as though he had watched from the sidelines as the snake attacked, rather than from behind the snake's own eyes.
When Harry had finished, Fred, George and Ginny continued to stare at him for a moment. June's eyes darted between him and the Weasley trio, ready to interfere if necessary.
"Is Mum here?" Fred said, turning to Sirius.
"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," Sirius said. "The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now."
"We've got to go to St Mungo's," Ginny said urgently. She looked around at her brothers; there were of course still in their pyjamas. "Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything?"
"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St Mungo's!" Sirius said.
"Course we can go to St Mungo's if we want," Fred said, with a mulish expression. "He's our dad!"
"And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?"
"What does that matter?" George said hotly.
"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!" Sirius said angrily. "Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"
Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry made of anything. Ron was still ashen-faced and silent.
Ginny said, "Somebody else could have told us . . . we could have heard it somewhere other than Harry."
"Like who?" Sirius said impatiently. "Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's —"
"We don't care about the dumb Order!" Fred shouted.
"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" George yelled.
"Your father knew what he was getting into and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!" Sirius said, equally angry. "This is how it is — this is why you're not in the Order — you don't understand — these are things worth dying for!"
"Sirius," June said warningly, placing a hand on his arm. "Why don't we all have a hot chocolate and wait for news from Molly? There's nothing we can do in St Mungo's even if we went there. Let the healers take care of him without us getting in their way."
This seemed to ease everyone a bit and Kreacher appeared with seven hot chocolates. They settled themselves around the kitchen table and silently drank their hot chocolate. June glanced around the table. Harry was gazing into his mug and didn't meet anyone's eye. She was about to ask him if he was all right, when a burst of fire in midair illuminated the table in front of them. As they gave cries of shock, a scroll parchment fell with a thud on to the table, accompanied by a single golden phoenix tail feather.
"Fawkes!" Sirius said at once, snatching up the parchment. "That's not Dumbledore's writing — it must be a message from your mother — here —"
He trust the letter into George's hand, who ripped it open and read aloud: "Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I well send news as soon as I can. Mum."
George looked around the table.
"Still alive . . ." he said slowly. "But that makes it sound . . ."
He did not need to finish his sentence. It sounded to June, too, as though Arthur was hovering somewhere between life and death. Still exceptionally pale, Ron stared at the back of his mother's letter as though it might speak words of comfort to him. Fred pulled the parchment out of George's hands and read it for himself, then looked up at Harry.
If Juniper had ever sat through a longer night than this one, she could not remember it. Sirius suggested once, without any real conviction, that they all go to bed, but the Weasleys' looks of disgust were answer enough. They mostly sat in silence around the table, watching the candle wick sinking lower and lower into liquid wax, occasionally raising a mug to their lips, speaking only to check the time, to wonder aloud what was happening, and to reassure each other that if there was bad news, they would know straightaway, for Molly must long since have arrived at St Mungo's.
Fred fell into a doze, his head lolling sideways on to his shoulder. Ginny was curled like a cat on her chair, but her eyes were open; June could see them reflecting the firelight. Ron was sitting with his head in his hands, whether awake or asleep it was impossible to tell. Harry, Sirius and June looked at each other every so often, intruders upon the family grief, waiting . . . waiting . . .
At ten past five in the morning by Ron's watch, the door swung open and Molly entered the kitchen. She was extremely pale, but when they all turned to look at her, Fred, Ron and Harry half rising from their chairs, she gave a wan smile.
"He's going to be all right," she said, her voice weak with tiredness. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill and Charlie are sitting with him now; they're going to take the morning off work."
Fred fell back into his chair with his hands over his face. Juniper moved towards him and hugged him tightly. George and Ginny got up, walked swiftly over to their mother and hugged her. Ron gave a very shaky laugh and downed the rest of his hot chocolate in one.
"Breakfast," Sirius muttered, jumping to his feet. "Breakfast for — let's see — eight . . . bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast —"
Both Harry and June helped over to the stove to help. They did not want to intrude on the Weasleys' happiness. Plus, June was afraid Sirius would accidentally put the kitchen on fire while making bacon and eggs.
"You all right?" Sirius asked her quietly, glancing at her.
"Yeah," June said, rubbing her forehead. "Just tired. I've been awake for almost twenty-four hours now."
"You didn't sleep before Harry got his vision?" Sirius questioned.
"No, I had Head Girl duties," June yawned. "When I came back, I heard Ron's shouts for Harry to wake up."
"You should get some sleep," Sirius muttered, gently nudging her towards the stairs. "I'll save you some breakfast."
"I think I will," June said, nodding. "See you later."
She climbed the stairs all the way towards Regulus' bedroom. Realizing she hadn't got her trunk or pajamas for that matter, she opened his closet, took one of his shirts and exchanged her robes for that. Then, she fell down on her bed and the moment her head touched the pillow, she was already fast asleep.
☆ ☆ ☆
By the time June woke up, it was already midday. She sat up and saw that her trunk had arrived from Hogwarts. She quickly pulled on some fresh underwear, a pair of jeans before taking a black shirt from her father's closet and pulling it on, tucking it into her pants. She then slipped into her boots and grabbed her wand before descending the stairs to the kitchen.
"Junior!" Nymphadora exclaimed happily, jumping up from where she had been sitting and engulfing June in a tight hug. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too, Dora," June said, hugging her adoptive sister back.
"Hello, Junie," another voice piped up and June pulled back to see Timothée standing in the doorway. She grinned and threw herself into his open arms. He picked her up and twirled her around before putting her back down. "It's good to see you in one piece."
"Ditto," June said, smiling at him before sliding onto the seat next to Harry. "How are you, cousin? Got some sleep?"
"Yeah," Harry said vaguely.
"Well, I'm off again," Timothée said, glancing at his watch. "My break's almost over."
Just like Fleur, he worked at Gringotts.
"Will I see you tonight?" June asked him and he nodded.
"Yes, we have lots of catching up to do."
"I'm looking forward to it."
Timothée left and Juniper and the others quickly ate lunch before Mad-Eye and Nymphadora accompanied the group towards St Mungo's. Nymphadora was questioning Harry about his vision as they sat onto the train that brought them towards the center of the city. June saw next to Sirius and was quickly catching him up on what had happened at Hogwarts. For a moment, she hesitated telling him about Dumbledore's Army, but then she had to remind herself that this was Sirius and he was most likely going to encourage them to continue.
Just like June had expected, Sirius was excited about that. He kept rambling on about what spells they could teach them all the way until they arrived at St Mungo's.
"Here we go," Moody said.
They had arrived outside a large, old-fashioned, red-brick department store called Purge & Dowse Ltd. The place had a shabby, miserable air; the window displays consisted of a few chipped dummies with their wigs askew, standing at random and modeling fashions at least ten years out of date. Large signs on all dusty doors read: Closed for Refurbishment. Juniper distinctly heard a large woman laden with plastic shopping bags say to her friend as they passed, "It's never open, that place . . ."
"Right," Nymphadora said, beckoning them towards a window displaying nothing but a particularly ugly female dummy. Its false eyelashes were hanging off and it was modeling a green nylon pinafore dress. "Everybody ready?"
They nodded, clustering around her. Nymphadora leaned close to the glass, looking up at the very ugly dummy, her breath steaming up the glass. "Wotcher," she said, "we're here to see Arthur Weasley."
The dummy gave a tiny nod and beckoned with its jointed finger. Nymphadora seized Ginny and Molly by the elbows, stepped right through the glass and vanished.
Fred, George and Ron stepped after them. Sirius grabbed June's arm and the duo followed pursuit.
There was no sign of the ugly dummy or the space where she had stood. They were in what seemed to be a crowded reception area where rows of witches and wizards sat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and perusing out-of-date copies of Witch Weekly, others sporting gruesome disfigurements such as elephant trunks or extra hands sticking out of their chests. The room was scarcely less quiet than the street outside, for many of the patients were making very peculiar noises: a sweaty-faced witch in the center of the front row, who was fanning herself vigorously with a copy of the Daily Prophet, kept letting off a high-pitched whistle as steam came pouring out of her mouth; a grubby-looking warlock in the corner changed like a bell every time he moved and, with each clang, his head vibrated horribly so that he had to seize himself by the ears to hold it steady.
Witches and wizards in lime-green robes were walking up and down the rows, asking questions and making notes on clipboards like Umbridge's. Juniper noticed them emblem embroidered on their chest: a wand and bone, crossed.
"Over here!" Molly called, above the renewed clanging of the warlock the corner, and they followed her to the queue in front of a plump blonde witch seated at a desk marked Enquiries. The wall behind her was covered in noticed and posters saying thinks like: A CLEAN CAULDRON KEEPS POTIONS FROM BECOMING POISONS and ANTIDOTES ARE ANTI-DON'TS UNLESS APPROVED BY A QUALIFIED HEALER. There was also a large portrait of a witch with long silver ringlets which was labeled:
DILYS DERWENT
St Mungo's Healer 1722-1741
Headmistress of Hogwarts School
of Witchcraft and Wizardry
1741-1768
Juniper instantly recognized the witch as the same witch she had seen in Dumbledore's office.
Meanwhile, at the front of the queue, a young wizard was performing an odd on-the-spot jig and trying, in between yelps of pain, to explain his predicament to the witch behind the desk.
"It's these — ouch — shoes my brother gave me — ow — they're eating my — OUCH — feet — look at them, there must be some kind of — AARGH — jinx on them and I can't — AAAARGH — get them off." He hopped from one foot to the other as though dancing on hot coals.
"These shoes don't prevent you reading, do they?" the blonde witch said, irritably pointing at a large sign to the left of her desk. "You want Spell Damage, fourth floor. Just like it says on the floor guide. Next!"
As the wizard hobbled and pranced sideways out of the way, the Weasley party moved forward a few steps and Juniper read the floor guide:
ARTEFACT ACCIDENTS GROUND FLOOR
Cauldron Explosion, Wand Backfiring,
Broom Crashes, etc.
CREATURE-INDUCED INJURIES FIRST FLOOR
Bites, stings, burns, embedded spines, etc.
MAGICAL BUGS SECOND FLOOR
Contagious Maladies, E.G. Dragon Pox,
Vanishing Sickness, Scrofungulus, etc.
POTION AND PLANT POISONING THIRD FLOOR
Rashes, Regurgitation, Uncontrollable
Giggling, etc.
SPELL DAMAGE FOURTH FLOOR
Unliftable Jinxes, Hexes, Incorrectly
Applied Charms, etc.
VISITORS' TEAROOM/HOSPITAL SHOP FIFTH FLOOR
IF YOU ARE UNSURE WHERE TO GO, INCAPABLE OF NORMAL SPEECH OR UNABLE TO REMEMBER WHY YOU ARE HERE, OUR WELCOMEWITCH WILL BE PLEASED TO HELP.
A very old, stooped wizard with a hearing trumpet had shuffled to the front of the queue now. "I'm here to see Broderick Bode!" he wheezed.
"Ward forty-nine, but I'm afraid you're wasting your time," the witch said dismissively. "He's completely addled, you know — still thinks he's a teapot. Next!"
A harassed-looking wizard was holding his small daughter tightly by the ankle while she flapped around his head using the immensely large, feathery wings that had sprouted right out through the back of her romper suit.
"Fourth floor," the witch said in a bored voice, without asking, and the man disappeared through the double doors beside the desk, holding his daughter like an oddly shaped balloon. "Next!"
Molly moved forward towards the desk.
"Hello," she said, "my husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us —?"
"Arthur Weasley?" the witch said, running her finger down a long list in front of her. "Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn Ward."
"Thank you," Molly said. "Come on, you lot."
They followed her through the double doors and along the narrow corridor behind, which was lined with more portraits of famous Healers and lit by crystal bubbles full of candles that floated up on the ceiling, looking like giant soap suds. More witches and wizards in lime-green robes walked in and out of the doors they passed; a foul-smelling yellow gas wafted into the passageway as they passed one door, and every now and then they heard a distant wailing. They climbed a flight of stairs and entered the Creature-Induced Injuries corridors, where the second door on the right bore the words: 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites. Underneath this was a card in a brass holder on which had been handwritten: Healer-in-Charge: Hippocrates Smethwyck. Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye.
"We'll wait outside, Molly," Nymphadora said. "Arthur won't want too many visitors at once . . . it ought to be family first."
Sirius nodded while Moody growled his approval of this idea and set himself with his back against the corridor wall, his magical eye spinning in all directions. Harry and June drew back, too, but Molly reached out her hands and pushed them through the door, saying, "Don't be silly, Harry, Arthur wants to thank you. And June, I'm sure Charlie will be delighted to see you." Juniper's heart skipped a beat at this.
The ward was small and rather dingy, as the only window was narrow and set high in the wall facing the door. Most of the light came from more shining crystal bubbles clustered in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were of paneled oak and there was a portrait of a rather vicious-looking wizard on the wall, captioned:
URQUHART RACKHARROW
1612-1697
Inventor of the
Entrail-expelling Curse
There were only three patients. Arthur was occupying the bed at the far end of the ward beside the tiny window. June was pleased and relieved to see that he was propped up on several pillows and reading the Daily Prophet by the solitary ray of sunlight falling on to his bed. Bill and Charlie sat next to him and were quietly talking to each other. They all looked up as the group walked towards him, and, seeing who it was, beamed.
"Hello!" Arthur called, throwing the Prophet away.
"How are you, Arthur?" Molly asked, bending down to kiss his cheek and looking anxiously at his face. "You're still looking a bit peaky."
"I feel absolutely fine," Arthur said brightly, holding out his good arm to give Ginny a hug. "If they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."
"Why can't they take them off, Dad?" Fred asked.
"Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," Arthur said cheerfully, reaching across for his wand, which lay on his bedside cabinet, and waving so that seven extra chairs appeared at his bedside to seat them all. "It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open. They're sure they'll find an antidote, though; they say they've had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour. But that fellow over there," he said, dropping his voice and nodding towards the bed opposite in which a man lay looking green and sickly and staring at the ceiling. "Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all."
"A werewolf," Molly whispered, looking alarmed. "Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn't he be in a private ward?"
"It's two weeks till full moon," Arthur reminded her quietly. "They've been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he'll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn't mention names, of course — but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage."
"What did he say?" George asked.
"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up," Arthur said sadly. "And that woman over there," he indicated the only other occupied bed, which was right beside the door, "won't tell the Healers what but her, which makes us all think it must have been something she was handling illegally. Whatever it was took a real chunk out of her leg, very nasty smell when they took off the dressings."
"So, you going to tell us what happened, Dad?" Fred asked, pulling his chair closer to the bed.
"Well, you already know, don't you?" Arthur said, with a significant smile at Harry. "It's very simple — I'd had a very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up and bitten."
"Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?" Fred asked, indicating the newspaper Arthur had cast aside.
"No, of course not," Arthur said, with a slightly bitter smile, "the Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know a dirty great serpent got —"
"Arthur!" Molly warned him.
"— got — er — me," Arthur said hastily, though Juniper was quite sure that was not what he had meant to say.
"So where were you when it happened, Dad?" George asked.
"That's my business," Arthur said, though with a small smile. He snatched up the Daily Prophet, shook it open again and started talking about something else.
"Hey," Charlie said, pulling June with him towards the back of the ward.
"Hi," June said. "How are you?"
"I'm fine now," he said, going with a hand through his hair. "Just tired."
Juniper leaned in and gave him a hug, feeling that he needed it. He hugged her back and buried his head into her neck. For a moment, the two of them didn't move. They simply enjoyed this small moment, knowing that soon enough, the world would come crashing onto them again.
☆ ☆ ☆
Published 07.05.2021
I hope you enjoyed it & tell me what you think of it!
CHARLIE AND TIMOTHÉE ARE BACK!