Chapter 501

If you think that most hospitals in the world are the same, you are very wrong—at least not in wizards' hospitals.

Rows of witches and wizards sat on rickety wooden chairs, some looking normal, reading an expired issue of Witch Weekly, or some other messy hospital-provided magazine. Others have horrific deformities, such as an elephant's trunk or an extra hand on their chest. The room is not much quieter than on the street, because there are many patients making very strange noises. In the middle of the front row, a sweaty witch fanned a copy of the Daily Prophet, constantly screeching and spitting steam. A scruffy wizard in the corner struck like a bell, and his head shook horribly at each ring, and he had to grab his ears and hold it steady.

These normal-looking and abnormal-looking people huddle together, waiting for the doctor to assign them a department. Somewhat similar to Muggle hospitals, wizards had to diagnose a doctor before assigning it to the appropriate department.

St. Mungo's is divided into five departments, namely the Artifact Accident Section, the Biological Injury Section, the Germ Infection Section, the Potions and Plant Poisoning Section, and the Spell Damage Section.

The Artifact Accident Section is usually one of St. Mungo's most quiet sections, and they are responsible for accidents such as crucible explosions, wand misfires, and broom collisions, except for accidents such as wand misfire and crucible explosions that may require transfers.

The Biological Injury Section, this is a department that is difficult to describe. From being bitten by their own dog to being bitten by a werewolf, the range of patients in this department can be extremely difficult, and some wizards who have been injured by illegally cultivated magical creatures need to be quarantined and observed. Mr. Weasley is currently being treated in this unit.

Bacterial infection department, this department generally does not have any accidents, once an accident occurs, it is a dead person, and it is a large number of deaths. When dragon pox was rampant in the last century, a large number of wizards were killed by this infectious disease. It wasn't until Gunn Hilda invented the dragon pox cure that dragon pox became much less lethal, and to this day, her portrait hangs in a hallway on the third floor of Hogwarts.

There's not much to say about the Potions and Plant Injuries Department, but the physicians who can work in this department will have a deep knowledge of potions and herbs, and even several of the attending physicians are Potions Masters who have passed the Pharmacists Association. After all, if you can't say it, you'll run into an idiot who is developing a new potion, and you can't save people without a good knowledge of potions and herbs.

As for the Spell Damage Department, this is the largest department in St. Mungory's department and the most patients, any damage caused by the spell will be treated here, and even many patients who have gone off with their wands will be transferred from the Artifact Accident Department to this side for further treatment, Neville's parents have been living here for more than ten years, but it has not improved, and the wizards do not have a very good way to recover the permanent damage caused by the Diamond Heart Charm. By the way, Umbridge is also currently being treated in this department.

What many wizards don't know about St. Mungo is that it is not a public institution, but a pure-blood wizard who funded and managed it like a dragon farm. To put it bluntly, St. Mungo's is a for-profit institution, not a non-profit as claimed.

St. Mungo, like Hogwarts, has a Board of Directors, and the directors are not responsible for the day-to-day management of St. Mungo, and the Deans they appoint are the ones who do the rough work. These directors only provide funds and materials to maintain the operations of St. Mungo, as well as act as a backing for St. Mungo.

These are things that the average wizard doesn't know, let alone Harry who is here for the first time. He couldn't even tell the difference between a doctor and a patient—referring to those who seemed normal, of course.

"Are they doctors?" he whispered to Ron.

"Doctor?" Ron seemed surprised, and replied "wizard":

"Muggle maniacs who slice people open? No, they're healers. "

"This way!" Mrs. Weasley shouted on the other side. They lined up with her, a chubby blonde witch sitting at a table marked "Inquiry," and the wall behind her was plastered with notices and various precautions.

There is also a large portrait of a witch with long silver curls that reads: Dalyse DevonteSt Mungo's Healer (172-1741) Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (1741-1768)

Dalyse was carefully looking at Harry and the others, as if counting the number of people, and when she met Harry's gaze, she blinked slightly, walked out of the frame from the side and disappeared.

Harry knew she was going to report to Dumbledore. He had seen Dumbledore use these portraits to deliver messages more than once.

At the front of the group, a young wizard was doing a strange quickstep dance, screaming in pain while trying to explain his predicament to the witch behind the table.

"It's—it's—my brother's shoe for me—ouch—it's biting mine—whoa—feet—look, there's going to be a — ah—curse, I—ah—can't take it off—"

He took turns dancing on both feet, as if dancing on hot coals.

"The shoes didn't stop you from reading, did they?" said the blonde witch, pointing impatiently to the large sign on the left side of the table, "You'll need to go to the Spell Damage Section on the fifth floor, the sign says." Next!"

The wizard limped aside, and Harry and the others took a few steps forward.

An aging wizard with a trumpeted hearing aid slowly rubbed in front of him: "I'm here to visit Broderick Bodder!"

"Ward Forty-Nine, but I'm afraid you're wasting your time," replied the witch casually, "he's completely confused, and thinks he's a teapot." "

"Next!"

A weary wizard clung to his little daughter's feet and neck, a pair of large feathered wings growing from the back of her pantyhose flapping beside his head.

"Fifth floor. The witch said wearily without asking, and the man walked out through the double doors beside him with his daughter in his arms, as if holding a peculiar balloon.

"Next!"

Mrs. Weasley walked over to the table. "Hello, my husband Arthur Weasley changed wards this morning, excuse me-"

"Arthur Weasley?" the witch pointed down a long list, "Oh, second floor, second door on the right, Dai." Llewellyn's ward. "

"Thank you. Mrs. Weasley said, "Follow me." “

Mrs. Weasley was leading them through a narrow hallway lined with portraits of famous healers and crystal bubbles with candles floating on the ceiling. There were wizards in green robes coming in and out of each door, and a yellow stench wafted from one door, and a faint wailing could be heard from time to time.

They ascended the stairs and entered the Biological Damage Section, where the second door on the right said "Danger". Llewellyn's ward: severe bite. The bottom of a copper-framed card has handwritten inscriptions: Master Healer: Hebcrates. Trainee Therapist: Augustus. Pai.

"Let's wait outside, Molly," said Tonks, "Arthur can't see too many people at a time, and the family should be first." "

Lupin agreed.

Just as Harry was about to stay outside with the two of them, Mrs. Weasley grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the hospital room.

"Don't be stupid Harry, in my eyes, you're no different from my son. Mrs. Weasley's words almost brought tears to Harry's eyes.