Mass Collision

18. St. Mungos

Before heading down for breakfast, I decided to take my jewelry off from the night before. 

We ate breakfast before everyone was ordered to get some sleep. Instead of sleeping I sat on the floor of my room, meditating. This house had so much energy. Everything around me had some kind of spiritual memory. I pulled from it and connected to the spirits. They were very angry. They don't like the people staying in their house. They don't like Sirius.

They warned me when the others were starting to get up. I opened my eyes and looked around my room. I looked at the writing on the wall, it was names– girl names. Probably of the past people who lived in the room. The last name was Cassiopeia Walburga Selena Black November 3, 1959– January 28, 1962. Was this Sirius's twin sister?

I heard another knock on my door and yelled for them to come in. "They're going to be leaving soon, I suggest wearing muggle clothes," Sirius told me.

I roll my eyes, "I only own Muggle clothes. I'll be down in a minute." There was no real reason for me to change. I was wearing clothes I would normally wear out. All I did was put my Jewelry back on just in case.

We set off from the house, walking as a large group through London with Mad-eye and Tonks. "Not far from here," grunted Moody as we stepped out of the subway into the wintry air on a broad store-lined street packed with Christmas shoppers. He pushed Harry a little ahead of him and stumped along just behind.

"Wasn't easy to find a good location for a hospital. Nowhere in Diagon Alley was big enough and we couldn't have it underground like the Ministry — unhealthy. In the end they managed to get hold of a building up here. Theory was sick wizards could come and go and just blend in with the crowd. . . ."

I rushed to stand next to Harry, just in case anything happened or we got separated. Mad-eye seized Harry's shoulder to prevent them being separated by a gaggle of shoppers plainly intent on nothing but making it into a nearby shop full of electrical gadgets.

"Here we go," said Moody a moment later. We had arrived outside a large, old-fashioned, red brick department store called Purge and Dowse Ltd. The place had a shabby, miserable air; the window displays consisted of a few chipped dummies with their wigs askew, standing at random and modeling fashions at least ten years out of date. Large signs on all the dusty doors read closed for refurbishment. I distinctly heard a large woman laden with plastic shopping bags say to her friend as they passed, "It's never open, that place. . . ." I watched as Harry stared at them and at our surroundings. I jabbed him with my elbow to make him pay attention to Mad-eye.

"Right," said Tonks, beckoning us forward to a window, displaying nothing but a particularly ugly female dummy whose false eyelashes were hanging off and who was modeling a green nylon pinafore dress. "Everybody ready?"

Everyone nodded, clustering around her; Moody gave Harry another shove between the shoulder blades to urge him forward and Tonks leaned close to the glass, looking up at the very ugly dummy and said, her breath steaming up the glass, "Wotcher . . . We're here to see Arthur Weasley."

Tonks seized Ginny and Mrs. Weasley by the elbows, stepped right through the glass and vanished. The rest of the Weasleys follow after. I grabbed Harry's hand, as Mad-eye poked him in the back again, and stepped into the glass.

I entered what looked like a crowded reception area. Witches and wizards in lime-green robes were walking up and down the rows, asking questions and making notes on clipboards like Umbridge's.

"Are they doctors?" he asked Ron quietly.

"Doctors?" said Ron, looking startled. "Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they're Healers."