Chapter 243: Visiting Ron

Ivan looked up and found himself in a crowded reception area.

Rows of witches and wizards sat on rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and reading old-fashioned copies of Witch's Heart, others with hideous disfigurements like elephant trunks or extra hands sticking out of their chests.

The room was a little less quiet than the street outside, as many of the patients were making very peculiar noises.

A sweaty witch in the center of the front row, vigorously fanning herself with a copy of the Daily the Prophet, kept emitting a high-pitched whistle as steam came out of her mouth, and a grimy-looking wizard in the corner echoed like a bell every time she moved, her head bobbing horribly with each chime, and she had to clutch her ears to keep it steady.

Ivan, Harry and Hermione looked around curiously in disbelief.

In addition to patients with normal illnesses, there were almost all kinds of curses and dark magic patients in the hospital.

Witches and wizards in lime green robes walked the rows, asking questions. The insignia embroidered on their chests was a wand and a bone, crossed.

"Look at those people, are they doctors?" asked Harry quietly.

"That's Muggle hospital status, they're called Healers here." Hermione replied, "The requirements to be a Healer include, as far as I know, N.E.W.T.T. of at least the grade 'Exceeds Expectations' in the subjects of Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh, Potions class! Then I guess it's no good, Snape won't let me pass!" Harry said, "But you definitely won't have any trouble, Hermione."

"But I don't want to be a Healer; it's a job of great responsibility." Hermione looked at Ivan, not far away, and whispered, "I'd rather be the editor-in-chief of a newspaper than be a Healer..."

"Yes, I forgot!" Seeing the look on Hermione's face, Harry sketched a knowing smile, "You're going to publish a newspaper with Ivan."

Seeing Harry's expression, Hermione blushed and nodded sheepishly, which was undoubtedly a confirmation.

As Harry and Hermione chatted, Ivan followed Lupin into line in front of a plump blonde witch sitting at a desk marked with questions. The wall behind her was covered with notices and posters that said things like "A CLEAN BOILER WILL KEEP POISONS AWAY FROM POISONS," and "ANTIDOTS ARE DANGEROUS UNLESS APPROVED BY A QUALIFIED HEALER."

Next to the counter, there was also a large portrait of a witch with long silver ringlets named DILYS DERWENT, ST. MUNGO'S HEALER 1722-1741, HEADMISTRESS OF HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY, I741-1768.

As the most famous headmistress, she had a great reputation in history and her portraits were in many important places.

Derwent was a very kind person. When she met them in the school hallway, she always greeted the students and gave orientation to the new ones.

Now he looked at the people in front of the counter as if he was counting them.

When Ivan caught his eye, he gave a little wink. "Hi, Ivan Mason - good to see you out of school!"

Derwent waved, turned away from his portrait and disappeared.

Meanwhile, at the front of the queue, a young wizard was striking a strange pose and trying, in between howls of pain, to explain his situation to the witch behind the desk.

"It's these shoes my brother gave me.... they're eating me... OUCH... feet... look at them, there must be some kind of.... AARGH... curse on them and I can't.... AAAAARGH... take them off..."

She hopped from one foot to the other as if dancing on hot coals.

"Shoes don't stop you from reading, do they?" the blonde witch said irritably, pointing to a large sign to the left of her desk. "Go to damage spells on the fourth floor - next!"

The wizard hobbled over and turned on his side, Ivan hurried a few steps.

His attention shifted to the sign the witch had just pointed to, reading the text above: ARTeFACT ACCIDENTS, Ground Floor (cauldron explosion, wand explosion, broom crashes, etc.); BREEDING INJURIES, First Floor (Bites, stings, burns, embedded thorns, etc.); MAGICAL INSECTS, Second Floor (Contagious Malformations, e.g.. ..) dragon pox, vanishing disease, scrofula); POISON AND PLANT POISONING, Third Floor (rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable giggles, etc.); SPELL DAMAGES, Fourth Floor (non-removable curses, hexes, and incorrectly applied incantations, etc.); VISITOR'S SHOP, MILK AND HOSPITAL SHOP, Fifth Floor.

If you are unsure where to go, are unable to speak normally, or can't remember why you are here, our Foyer Witch will be happy to help you.

"Ron was under the Imperius Curse, we should go to the fourth floor!"

As Ivan read the sign, Lupin approached the desk and asked quietly. "Hello, we're here to see Ron Weasley, which room is he in, please?"

"Ron Weasley?" said the witch, running her finger down a long list in front of her. "Oh, yes, he's left Hogwarts a week before Christmas. Fourth floor, second door on the right."

"Thank you!"

Everyone followed Lupin through the double doors and along the narrow corridor beyond, which was lined with portraits of famous Healers and lit by glass bubbles filled with candles that floated to the ceiling like giant suds of soap.

More witches and wizards dressed in lime green robes came and went through the doors they passed; a foul-smelling yellow gas wafted into the hallway as they passed through a door, and every now and then they heard distant wailing.

They went up a flight of stairs and entered the "Spell Damage" hallway on the fourth floor.

Before they looked for it, they heard the Weasleys' voices. Mrs. Weasley was losing her temper and blaming Fred and George for a nasty prank they had just played. "Ron is recovering, and you two can't behave..."

Mrs. Weasley stopped suddenly and was startled to see Ivan and the others enter the room.

In the next second, she rushed over and held Ivan, Harry and Hermione in her arms, red-eyed and thanked them for helping Ron at school.

Ivan looked up embarrassed and saw Fred and George winking in front of him, with a cheerful smile on their faces.

Behind them, Percy, with a book in his hand, followed with a serious look on his face.

Ginny, sitting in a chair in front of the bed, nodded as if to say hello, and looked at Harry with a red face.

Next to her, Ron, who was lying on the bed, sat up and looked excitedly at the three of them, looking both happy and embarrassed.

The Weasleys were exactly the same as always.

"Even though you said so earlier, I didn't expect you to come back today, after all, it's just after Christmas!" Mrs. Weasley said gratefully, "Arthur just left. Because of Pettigrew's affair, the apartment has become a mess lately."

After hugging Ivan, Harry and Hermione, she got up to greet Sirius and Lupin.

Apparently, she and Sirius knew each other and were very familiar.

After a brief introduction, Harry hurriedly asked Ron about his recovery.

"Basically no problems. The healer just came in and confirmed that I'll be able to leave the hospital after a few days of observation." Ron patted his chest and indicated that he was healthy.

Since they entered the room, he noticed the little owl that kept hooting in the cage. Ron looked puzzled at Sirius.

"This is a present for you. After all, it's my fault you lost that rat..." Sirius explained.

"This owl is for me, I can't believe it, this is the best present I've ever received!" Ron took the cage, looked happily at the owl inside and then raised his head. He said embarrassed, "You didn't have to do this. I was... I was so confused at the time, I doubted you, to help Scabbers..."

"It wasn't your fault, Ron." Harry said hastily, "You broke free of the Imperius Curse's grip at the last moment."

Sirius and Lupin also hastily followed the persuasion and said that they had forgiven Ron for what he had done.

"Who would have thought Peter Pettigrew was an Animagus? he was hiding too well!" Fred said.

"Yeah, I still can't believe Scabbers is Peter Pettigrew," George said. "Unbelievable, he lived in our house for over ten years."

Hearing his words, Mrs. Weasley and Percy wore a bad expression on their faces. It was horrible enough just thinking about it.

If Peter Pettigrew had other plans, the consequences would have been unimaginable.