Amie and the Army (Harry Potter fan-fic) Book 5 COMPLETED

Out of sight out of mind

Once they'd had their Christmas lunch, Amie, Hermione, Harry and the Weasley's planned to visit Mr. Weasley again at St. Mungo's, accompanied by Mad-Eye and Remus. Mundungus turned up for Christmas pudding and trifle, having borrowed a car for the occasion, as the Underground didn't run on Christmas Day. The car had an Enlarging Spell put on it, so while it looked normal from the outside, eleven people and Mundungus who was driving still fit comfortably inside. Mrs. Weasley, who greatly disliked Mundungus hestitated on getting inside it, but after some pleading from her children she seated herself between Fred and Bill in the backseat. Amie was sitting by George, leaning her head on his shoulder. They'd spent the morning alone, just the two of them, in the Drawing room, cuddled up together on the sofa. The journey to St. Mungo's was quick, and when they arrived they could see some witches and wizards walking up the otherwise deserted street to visit the hospital. Amie and the others got out, as Mundungus drove off around the corner to wait for them. They walked up towards the window with the dummy in green nylon, and, one by one, they stepped through the glass. The reception area looked festive for the occasion, the crystal orbs that illuminated St. Mungo's had been turned to red and gold so they resembled glowing Christmas baubles, holly hung around every doorway, and shining Christmas trees covered in magical snow and icicles glittered in every corner, each topped with a gold star. The reception area wasn't as crowded as last time they'd been there, but halfway across the room they were pushed aside by a witch with a walnut jammed up her left nostril.
"Family argument, eh?" smirked the blonde with at the desk. "You're the third I've seen today. .. Spell Damage, fourth floor..."

They found Mr. Weasley in his room, propped up in bed with remains of a turkey dinner on a tray in his lap, and a sheepish expression on his face.
"Everything all right, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Weasley after they'd all greeted him and handed over their presents.
"Fine, fine," said Mr. Weasley, a little too heartily. "You - er - haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?"
"No," said Mrs. Weasley suspiciously. "Why?"
"Nothing, nothing," said Mr. Weasley, starting to unwrap his gifts. "Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, Harry - this is absolutely wonderful -"
He had just opened Harry's gift of fuse-wire and screwdrivers. Amie smiled at Mr. Weasley's enthusiasm. Mrs. Weasley looked less than pleased with her husband's answer to her question, and as he leaned over to shake Harry's hand, she peered at the bandaging under his nightshirt.
"Arthur," she said, with a harsh voice. "You've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't need doing until tomorrow."
"What?" said Mr. Weasley, looking frightened, and pulling his bed covers up his chest. "No, no - it's nothing - it's - I -" 
He deflated under Mrs. Weasley's piercing stare.
"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 -"
Amie gaped, as Mrs. Weasley let out a noise somewhere between a shriek and a snarl. Lupin walked away, over to the werewolf, who had no visitors, and was looking over at the crowd around Mr. Weasley. Bill muttered something about getting a cup of tea, and Fred and George leapt up to accompany him, grinning all the while.
"Do you mean to tell me," said Mrs. Weasley, her voice growing louder with every word, unaware that the others were scurrying for cover, "that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?"
"Not messing about, Molly, dear," said Mr. Weasley. "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 sew your skin back together," said Mrs. Weasley with a snort. "but even you, Arthur, wouldn't be that stupid -"
"I fancy a cup of tea too," said Harry, jumping to his feet. Amie, Hermione, Ginny and Ron almost sprinted to the door after him. As the door closed behind them, they heard Mrs. Weasley shriek.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT'S 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 snake's venom dissolves them or something... I wonder where the tearoom is?"
"Fifth floor," said Harry.
"Blimey, Harry, why can't you use your exceptional memory for school?" Amie joked.