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Hes the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in Nulls clash 2021. um. complementary medicine. I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies. well, theyre called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on - on Muggle wounds - Mrs. Weasley let out an ominous noise somewhere between a shriek and a snarl. Lupin strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr. Weasley; Bill muttered something about getting himself a cup of tea and Fred and George leapt up to accompany him, grinning. Do you mean to tell me, said Mrs. Click, her voice growing louder with every word and apparently unaware that her fellow visitors were scurrying for cover, that you have been Nulls clash 2021 about with Muggle remedies. Not messing about, Molly, dear, said Mr. Weasley pubg game download for iphone download. It was just - just something Pye and I thought wed try - only, most unfortunately - well, with these particular kinds of wounds - it doesnt seem to work as well as wed hoped - Meaning. Well. well, I dont know whether you know what - what stitches are. It sounds as though youve been trying to sew your skin back together, said Mrs. Weasley with a snort of mirthless laughter, but even you, Arthur, wouldnt be that stupid - I fancy a cup of tea too, said Harry, jumping to his feet. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny almost sprinted to the door with him. As it swung closed behind them, they heard Mrs. Weasley shriek, WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THATS THE GENERAL IDEA. Typical Dad, said Ginny, shaking her head as they set off up the corridor. Stitches. I ask you. Well, you know, they do work well on non-magical wounds, said Hermione fairly. I suppose something in that snakes venom dissolves them or something. I wonder where the tearoom is. Fifth floor, said Harry, remembering the sign over the Welcome Witchs desk. They walked along the corridor through a set of double doors and found a rickety staircase lined with more portraits of brutal-looking Healers. As they climbed it, the various Healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies. Ron was seriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearly had a bad case of spattergroit. And whats that supposed to be. he asked angrily, as the Healer pursued him through six more portraits, shoving the occupants out of the way. Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now - Watch who youre calling gruesome. said Ron, his ears turning red. The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels eyes - I have not got spattergroit. But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage, young master - Theyre freckles. said Ron furiously. Now get back in your own picture and leave me alone. He rounded on the others, who were all keeping determinedly straight faces. What floors this. I think its the fifth, said Hermione. Nah, its the fourth, said Harry, one more - But as he stepped onto the landing he came to an abrupt halt, staring at the small window set into the double doors that marked the start of a corridor signposted SPELL DAMAGE. A man was peering out at them all with his nose pressed against the glass. He had wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth. Blimey. said Ron, Nulls clash 2021 staring at the man. Oh my goodness, said Hermione suddenly, sounding breathless. Professor Lockhart. Their ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher pushed open the doors and moved toward them, wearing a long lilac dressing gown. Well, hello there. he said. I expect youd like my autograph, would you. Hasnt changed much, has he. Harry muttered to Ginny, who grinned. Er - how are you, Professor. said Ron, sounding slightly guilty. It had been Rons malfunctioning wand that had damaged Professor Lockharts memory so badly that he had landed here in the first place, though, as Lockhart had been attempting to permanently wipe Harry and Rons memories at the time, Harrys sympathy was limited. Im very well indeed, thank you. said Lockhart exuberantly, pulling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket. Now, how many autographs would you like. I can do joined-up writing now, you know. Er - we dont want any at the moment, thanks, said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry, who asked, Professor, should you be wandering around the corridors. Shouldnt you be in a ward. The smile faded slowly from Lockharts face. For a few moments he gazed intently at Harry, then he said, Havent we go here. Er. yeah, we have, said Harry. You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember. Teach. repeated Lockhart, looking faintly unsettled. Did I. And then the smile reappeared upon his face so suddenly it was rather alarming. Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I. Well, how about those autographs, then. Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out. But just then a head poked out of a door at the far end of the corridor and a voice said, Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to. A motherly looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came bustling up the corridor, smiling warmly at Harry and the others. Oh Gilderoy, youve got visitors. How lovely, and on Christmas Day too. Do you know, he never gets visitors, poor lamb, and I cant think why, hes such a sweetie, arent you. Were doing autographs. Gilderoy told the Healer with another glittering smile. They want loads of them, wont take no for an answer. I just hope weve got enough article source. Listen to him, said the Healer, taking Lockharts arm and beaming fondly at him as though he were a precocious two-year-old. He was rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be coming back a little bit. Will you step this way. Hes in a closed ward, you know, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmas presents, the doors usually kept locked. not that hes dangerous. But, she lowered her voice to a whisper, bit of a danger to himself, bless him. Doesnt know who he is, you see, wanders off and cant remember how to get back. It is nice of you to have come to see him - Er, said Ron, gesturing uselessly at the floor above, actually, we were just - er - But the Healer was smiling expectantly at them, and Rons feeble mutter of going to have a cup of tea trailed away into nothingness. They looked at one another rather hopelessly and then followed Lockhart and his Healer along the corridor. Lets not stay long, Ron said quietly. The Healer pointed her wand at the door of the Janus Thickey ward and muttered Alohomora. The door swung open and she led the way inside, keeping a firm grasp on Gilderoys arm until she had settled him into an armchair beside his bed. This is our long-term resident ward, she informed Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in a low voice. For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement. Gilderoy does seem to be getting back some sense of himself, and weve seen a real improvement in Mr. Bode, he seems to be regaining the power of speech very well, though he isnt speaking any language we recognize yet. Well, I must finish giving out the Christmas presents, Ill leave you all to chat. Harry looked around; this ward bore unmistakable signs of being a permanent home to its residents. They had many more personal effects around their beds than in Mr. Weasleys ward; the wall around Gilderoys headboard, for instance, was papered with pictures of himself, all beaming toothily and waving at the new arrivals. He had autographed many of them to himself in disjointed, childish writing. The moment he had been deposited in his chair by the Healer, Gilderoy pulled a fresh stack of photographs toward him, seized a quill, and started signing them all feverishly. You can put them in more info, he said to Ginny, throwing the signed pictures into her lap one by one as he finished them. I am not forgotten, you know, no, I still receive a very great deal of fan mail. Gladys Gudgeon writes weekly. I just wish I knew why. He paused, looking faintly puzzled, then beamed again and returned to his signing with renewed vigor. I suspect it is simply my good looks. A sallow-skinned, mournful-looking wizard lay in the bed opposite, staring at the ceiling; he was mumbling to himself and seemed quite unaware of anything around him. Two beds along was a woman whose entire head was covered in fur; Harry remembered something similar happening to Hermione during their second year, although fortunately the damage, in her case, had not been permanent. At the far end of the ward flowery curtains had been drawn around two beds to give the occupants and their visitors some privacy.

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