Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Ivan looked up and found himself in a crowded waiting room.

A row of wizards, men and women, sat in swaying wooden chairs, some looking normal, reading the expired Witch Weekly, while others had terrible deformities, like a nose or chest with one more hand.

The hospital is less quiet than just the noisy streets of Muggle, and many patients keep making strange noises.

A sweaty witch in the middle of the front row fanned a Daily Prophet, making a sharp whistle and spitting vapor. A dirty witch in the corner rang like a bell, his head wobbled terribly every time it rang, and he grabbed his ear and held it steady.

Ivan, Harry, Hermione looked around curiously and felt like they didn't have enough eyes.

In addition to normal diseases, you can almost see patients with all kinds of curses and dark magic, all kinds of reactions.

A group of male and female wizards in green robes hurried through the corridor beside them to ask about the waiting list. The embroidered badge on their chests is a cross of wands and bones.

“Look at those people. Are they doctors?” Harry asked softly.

“That's what Muggle Hospital calls a therapist here. Hermione replied," You need to achieve very good grades at the senior wizard level in order to become a profession. As far as I know, I need certificates for at least the following classes: pharmacy, herbal science, deformation, spellology, and dark magic defense. ”

“Oh, the magic class, I guess it's over, Snape won't let me pass!” Harry said, "but you'll be fine, Hermione! ”

“But I don't want to be a therapist, it's a responsible job.” Hermione looked up at Ivan not far ahead and whispered, “I prefer this job as editor-in-chief to a therapist...”

“Yeah, I forgot!” Seeing Hermione, Harry revealed a smile, “you would definitely run a newspaper with Ivan. ”

Seeing Harry's expression, Hermione blushed and nodded with embarrassment, confirmed the matter.

As Harry and Hermione chatted, Ivan was following Lupin to the team in front of the counseling counter, in front of them was a fat blonde witch. The wall behind her was filled with notices and posters, such as clean crucibles to prevent the poison from turning into poison, the antidote should not be misused, it should be approved by a qualified therapist, etc.

Next to the counter, there is also a big portrait of a witch with long silver hair curls, which says: Davis Devent, San Mungo Therapist (1722-1741), Rector of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft (1741—1768)

As the most prestigious headmaster, she has a great historical reputation and has portraits of her on many important occasions.

De Vent is a very friendly person, and when she meets her in the school hallway, she always greets the students and helps the freshmen guide the way or something.

She is now carefully measuring the people in front of the counter, as if they were at the point.

When she saw Ivan's eyes, she blinked slightly, "Hello, Evan Mason. Nice to see you outside the school! ”

Devant greeted him and walked out the frame from the side and vanished.

In front of the team, a young witch was dancing a strange fast-paced dance, screaming for pain and trying to explain his plight to the witch behind the table.

“That's the shoe my brother gave me. Oops, it's biting my foot. Look at this. There must be some kind of spell on it. I, I can't take it off!” He took turns dancing on his feet, like dancing on hot coal.

“Shoes don't interfere with your reading, do they?” The blonde witch impatiently pointed at the big sign beside her and said, "Go to the Curse Injury Unit on the fifth floor, next! ”

The witch jumped and moved aside, and Ivan hurriedly moved forward a few steps.

His attention shifted to the sign just indicated by the witch, reading the text above: Department of Object Accidents, Ground Floor (Crucible Explosion, Wand Fire, Broom Collision, etc.); Department of Biological Injury, Second Floor (Stings, Burns, Embedded Spurs, etc.); Department of Strange Bacterial Infections, Third Floor (Infectious Diseases such as Dragonpox, Disappearance, Lymphomyositis, etc.); Department of Pharmaceutical and Plant Poisoning, Fourth Floor (Rash, Stomach Retardation, Laughter, etc.); Department of Magic Injury, Fifth Floor (Unremovable Magic, Wrong Magic, etc.); Tea Room and Shop, Sixth Floor.

Our receptionist is willing to help if you don't know which section to go to, can't speak properly, or don't remember why.

“Ron's been hit by a soul snatching spell, we should go to the fifth floor! ”

As Ivan read the sign, Lupin walked to the table, and he asked gently, "Hello, let's visit Ron Weasley, what room is he in? ”

“Ron Weasley?!” The witch followed a long list with her fingers down, "Oh, here it is. It came from Hogwarts a week before Christmas. You're going to the fifth floor. Listen to the second ward on the right! ”

“Thanks!”

Follow Lupin through a double door, through a narrow corridor.

Both sides are portraits of famous therapists, candle-filled crystal bubbles floating on the ceiling, looking like giant soap bubbles.

Wizards in green robes entered and exited all doors, and a yellow smell emerged from one door, from time to time hearing a hidden mourning.

They climbed up the stairs, like they climbed up four floors, into the Curse Injury Unit.

Before she could wait to find it, she heard the Weasley family voice, and Mrs. Weasley was having a tantrum accusing Fred and George of just making a lousy joke.

“Ron is recovering, you two can't be honest...”

Mrs. Weasley suddenly stopped, and she was surprised to see Ivan walking into the ward with the five of them.

The next second, Mrs. Weasley hurried over, holding Ivan, Harry and Hermione in her arms, red-eyed to thank them all for helping Ron at school.

Ivan looked up embarrassed and saw Fred and George squeezing their eyebrows in front of him with a happy smile on his face.

Behind them, Percy grabbed a book in her hand, and a serious one followed her, with a serious look.

Ginny was sitting in the chair in front of the hospital bed, nodded and looked at Harry blushing.

Next to her, Ron, lying in front of the hospital bed, sat up and looked at them with excitement, looking both happy and somewhat embarrassed.

The Weasley family is exactly the same as usual, without any change.

“As you said before, I didn't expect you to come back today, after all, just after Christmas!” Mrs. Weasley said with gratitude, "Arthur has just left, because of Peter the dwarf, the department has been in a mess lately. ”

After hugging Ivan, Harry and Hermione in turn, she stood up and greeted Sirius and Lupin.

Looks like she and Sirius obviously know each other and are very familiar.

After a brief introduction, Harry was anxious to ask about Ron's recovery.

“There's basically nothing wrong with that, the therapist just checked in and said I can be discharged for a few days of observation!” Ron patted himself on the chest, indicating he was healthy.

Immediately afterwards, he noticed that since entering the ward, he had been flying around in the cage, screaming a constant owl, and he looked at Sirius in suspicion.

“This is a gift for you, after all I caused you to lose the rat...” Sirius explained.

“This owl gave it to me, I can't believe it, it's the best gift I've ever received!” Ron took the cage, looked up at the owl inside with joy, and then raised his head and said with embarrassment, "You didn't have to do this, I was... I was so dizzy, I doubted you, to help the spots...”

“It's not yours, Ron!” Harry hastily said, "You also escaped the control of the soul-snatching spell at the last minute. ”

Sirius and Lupin also rushed to persuade and say they had forgiven Ron for what he had done.

“Who would have thought Peter Pettigrew was an Animagus, he was hiding great!” Fred said.

“Yeah, until now, I can't believe the spots are Peter Pettigrew!” It's incredible, "George said," that he actually lived in our house for over a decade. ”

To hear his words, Mrs. Weasley and Percy had a palpitated face on their faces, which was scary enough to think about.

If Peter Pettigrew had other attempts, the consequences would be unthinkable.