Percy Jackson and the Department of Mysteries

122) A Bad Teacher Approaches - He Comes With Autographs

"Everything all right, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley greeted after we all handed over our presents.

"Fine, fine," Mr. Weasley said a little too quickly. "You — er — haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?"

"No," Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes, "why?"

"Nothing, nothing," Mr. Weasley said lightly, beginning to unwrap his gifts. "Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, Perseus — this is absolutely wonderful —"

He had just opened the model car I'd gotten him. As he leaned over to shake my hand, Mrs. Weasley peered down at his bandages.

"Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said hotly, "you've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't need changing until tomorrow."

"What?" Mr. Weasley squeaked, pulling his blankets higher. "No, no — it's nothing — it's — I —" Mrs. Weasley glared at him and he slumped. "Well — now don't get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea.... He's the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in... um... complementary medicine.... I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies... well, they're called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on — on Muggle wounds —"

Mrs. Weasley made an odd noise somewhere between a growl and a scream. Lupin quickly strolled over to another patient in the room (a recently turned werewolf who looked rather lonely), Bill muttered about getting some coffee, and Fred and George decided to accompany him.

"Do you mean to tell me," Mrs. Weasley's voice grew louder with every word, "that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?"

I didn't see the problem — sure, stitches wouldn't help him much since he couldn't clot properly and would just bleed through the new holes, but using stitches was common practice. Even Ron used them on demigods, and he hadn't grown used to them like we had.

"Not messing about, Molly, dear," Mr. Weasley's eyes were wide. "It was just — just something Pye and I thought we'd try — only, most unfortunately — well, with these particular kinds of wounds — it doesn't seem to work as well as we'd hoped —"

"Meaning?"

"Well... well, I don't know whether you know what — what stitches are?" 

"It sounds as though you've been trying to see your skin back together," Mrs. Weasley hit the nail on the head, "but even you, Arthur, wouldn't be that stupid —"

"I'm gonna go find someone to bother," I said hurriedly, the others deciding to join me.

We practically ran out, and as the door closed behind us, we heard Mrs. Weasley shriek, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"

"I wonder where the tearoom is," Hermione said after a moment, probably deciding that she wouldn't let me bother anyone.

"Fifth floor," Harry said.

"How d'you know?" I asked.

"I read the sign at the welcome desk."

"That's not fair. I can't read. They should really have these kinds of things blare over the speakers."

"What's a speaker?" Ron asked.

***

Our journey was pretty simple, even if a Healer in a picture accused Ron of having a serious case of spattergroit when he really just had freckles. For the most part, we just walked, and pretended not to notice the sick witches and wizards around us.