Hogwarts: A little lion in the skin of the Eagle School

Before nightfall, the train slowly pulled into King's Cross Station.

The platform was bustling with people, and the sounds of pushing carts, hooting owls, and children playing mingled together.

John took Hermione's hand and they went against the flow of people.

"Let's go back and drop off our luggage first, then go to St. Mungo's to see Mr. Weasley."

John said to Hermione beside him.

"Okay." Hermione nodded, having no objections.

The two walked to the platform and ran into Ryan and his group, including Ryan's parents.

Ryan's mother breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that her son wasn't walking with John.

Then John's figure was spotted in the distance.

She didn't show any disgust; instead, her expression was indifferent yet tinged with guilt.

She clearly knew that it was wrong of her to break up the children's friendship.

John simply nodded slightly at her, without saying a word or stopping, pretending not to know her.

Hermione tightened her grip on his hand; she already knew Ryan's current situation from John.

I also understand that Ryan's mother's obstruction was not out of malice, but out of fear.

But I still feel sorry for John.

He was ostracized simply because he was too famous.

It's like when I was a child, I was considered a freak by my peers because I was too precocious and too proud, and they didn't want to be friends with me.

Of course, John and Ryan did not truly drift apart; it was merely a tactical separation.

So John himself didn't really care about it.

......

Because they had already told their families about today's plans, they didn't have their parents come to pick them up.

John took Hermione home first, put down their luggage, and then went out again.

The address of St. Mungo's wasn't far from here, so they walked there directly.

Unlike the Ministry of Magic, this hospital is hidden deep underground.

Instead, it was built boldly in the heart of London.

However, its exterior was disguised as a dilapidated department store that had been temporarily closed.

The two walked to a glass display window on the first floor of the mall.

There are two mannequins in the shop window. As long as you tell them your purpose, you can walk through the window and enter St. Mungo's Hospital directly.

"Such a prime location, how come no Muggles have tried to buy it?" John said incredulously, looking at the abandoned shopping mall.

"I guess the Ministry of Magic probably blocked anyone who wanted to buy it."

As Hermione spoke, she pulled John to the shop window.

"We've come to visit Mr. Arthur Weasley."

As Hermione finished speaking, the mannequin in the shop window moved its hand and then struck a welcoming pose, causing ripples to spread across the glass.

Hermione took John's hand and stepped lightly, a cool breeze brushing against their faces.

The refreshing scent of disinfectant mixed with mint herbs wafted over, and the cold cement floor beneath my feet transformed into the warm, smooth oak floor.

Soft light streamed from the crystal chandelier overhead, and floating medical record scrolls slowly rotated along the corridor's sides. A drawn-out voice echoed from afar, "Next patient—please proceed to Clinic Number Three, 'Curse of Backlash'!"

Wow.

John, who was visiting for the first time, stared at everything with great curiosity.

This place is different from Muggle hospitals; there's no lobby, reception desk, cashier, pharmacy, or any other messy stuff.

After all, with the help of more convenient magic, various medical records or floating medicine bottles would occasionally drift past the end of the corridor.

Each floor has different functions and departments. Once you go to the corresponding floor, you can solve any problems you need on that floor.

The doctors here are collectively referred to as therapists, or intern therapists, and all wear lime-green robes.

The first floor is the Department of Equipment Accidents, which mainly deals with common ailments, such as crucible explosions or injuries caused by the rebound of one's own spells.

However, it is also the busiest floor.

The second floor is the Biological Injury Department, which, as the name suggests, is a place where patients who have been bitten, stung, or scratched by various magical creatures gather.

Mr. Weasley is here; he was bitten by a snake.

I won't go into the details of the later floors, since there's no need to go up there—at least not today.

The two went up to the second floor, which was much quieter than the first floor.

Mr. Weasley's ward was at the end of the corridor.

Upon entering, one finds not only Mr. Weasley in the ward, but also two other patients.

John subconsciously slowed his pace, his gaze sweeping over the other two hospital beds.

One of them was a female wizard, whose thigh was wrapped in thick gauze.

The other was a middle-aged male wizard who looked somewhat resigned to life, staring blankly at the ceiling, with no indication of any injury.

Finally, there's Mr. Weasley.

He leaned against the pillow, his glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose, and he was clutching a copy of The Daily Prophet in his hand.

"Hmm? John, Hermione?"

The first to discover the two were Mrs. Weasley, who was taking care of Mr. Weasley.

"Oh, come in, come in quickly!"

She put down the thermos in her hand and invited the two of them to sit down.

Mr. Weasley put down his newspaper, looked at them, and greeted them with a smile.

"How did you two get here?"

"We heard that you were injured and hospitalized, Mr. Weasley, so we came to see you."

"Oh, thank you for your concern." He raised his hand to push up his glasses and replied with a smile.

He seemed to be in good spirits.

Of course, this is assuming we ignore the fact that he's covered in bandages...

The two sat down and chatted briefly with the Weasleys.

From what they told us, Mr. Weasley was brought in for emergency treatment last night and didn't wake up until almost morning.

Then Harry and the Weasley children, who had all visited Mr. Weasley that morning, have now returned to the Order of the Phoenix.

"Mr. Weasley, how are your injuries? What...what did the therapist say?"

Halfway through their conversation, John looked at Mr. Weasley's body covered in bandages and asked with some concern.

"The therapist said that there was a type of snake venom in his wound that was inhibiting its healing."

"Now we have to change the gauze frequently and take iron supplements to maintain the body's condition, otherwise the rate of blood loss will far exceed the regeneration capacity."

Mrs. Weasley chimed in, saying that these were all the therapist's orders.

"At least for the time being, he will not be able to leave St. Mungo's."

"The good news is that the venom's activity is slowly decreasing," Mr. Weasley added, his tone relaxed, as if he were talking about the weather.

So there's no need to worry too much.

"I can also take this opportunity to take a paid vacation for a while, haha."

Mr. Weasley laughed as he spoke, not taking the accident to heart at all; he was truly an incredibly optimistic person.

"That's good."

Hearing this, the two were relieved.

If someone were to suffer misfortune at this time, it would be a heavy blow to all of them.

"It's getting late, so we'll head back now."

We will visit you again before Christmas.

John glanced at the sky outside and then got up to take his leave.

Mrs. Weasley nodded and smiled, then asked another question with concern.

"Are you coming to the Order of the Phoenix to spend Christmas with the children?"

"We will send our Christmas greetings, but we have plans for Christmas Day, so we won't have a chance for now."

John and Hermione exchanged a glance, then shook their heads and said apologetically.

"It's alright, you're welcome to come anytime."