Chapter 86. Tiamorrison General Hospital
In fact, there was another important reason Harry was thinking this way.
Adrian had once told him that, when he'd been in school, professors would occasionally design interesting gauntlets for students to run and then award prizes.
However, what Harry hadn't realised was that professors would never turn something as dangerous as a three-headed dog into a gauntlet.
Harry decided that once he'd learned enough magic, he would try that room on the fourth floor again.
As for the three-headed dog? Gulu should have a way to handle it.
Even if he couldn't, Gulu could still keep them safe from its jaws—just like last time.
The day before Christmas—today was the day Adrian set off for the United States.
Afternoon.
To keep the Portkey from being affected by Hogwarts' protective enchantments, Adrian arrived outside the main gates.
He was carrying only a standard-sized suitcase.
Of course, it wasn't really a suitcase but a portable doorway disguised as one.
After he prepared everything, Adrian reached into his pocket and gripped the silver teaspoon.
In an instant, he felt the back of his collar hooked and yanked up.
When he came back to his senses, he was already somewhere else.
Portkeys really were the best—simple, convenient, usable anytime and anywhere.
Adrian looked around and found himself standing in a wide corridor.
As it wasn't his first time here, he walked with practised ease into a nearby room with a sign that read "Visitors' Reception (New York)."
The furnishings inside were very simple: just a wooden desk, two chairs, and a fireplace in the corner.
"Good morning, sir," said a middle-aged man behind the desk, lifting his head and speaking listlessly. "You're the first one today."
Adrian sat in the chair before the desk and smiled. "On duty again this year, Mr Blunt?"
The middle-aged man named Blunt fished a form out of the heap of papers on the tabletop, handed it to Adrian, and pulled a face. "I've never understood why they decide the Christmas-period duty roster by flipping a coin every time… Ah, Adrian Wesson, is it? I remember your name."
"Yes, sir."
Adrian took the form—used to register some of his particulars and his upcoming itinerary.
After a quick skim, Blunt said, "Same old rules, sir—I need to inspect your luggage."
Adrian handed over the suitcase without fuss.
As he examined it carefully, Blunt grumbled, "I don't know when it started, but people just love casting the Undetectable Extension Charm on their suitcases, which means loads more work for us—you wouldn't believe it.
A few years back we even found a whole pile of magical creatures in an old wizard's case…"
"I haven't done anything like that," Adrian said with a reassuring smile.
Indeed, Adrian hadn't cast the Undetectable Extension Charm—he'd simply made his suitcase into a doorway.
With the disguise in place, it was no different from an ordinary case, and magic meant to detect the Undetectable Extension Charm certainly wouldn't pick it up.
After finishing the inspection, Blunt nodded. "No problem, Mr Wesson. Do you need to make use of the fireplace?"
"Of course."
"All right," Blunt handed Adrian a small pouch of Floo Powder and said casually, "Wizards from Britain all have a soft spot for fireplaces. Good luck, Mr Wesson."
"Thank you for your help."
Adrian took the Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace.
"Tiamorrison General Hospital."
With a burst of emerald-green flame, Adrian vanished into the hearth.
Tiamorrison General Hospital—this was a well-known hospital in the American wizarding world, where Adrian's parents worked.
Stepping out of the fireplace, Adrian was met by a rich, heady scent of herbs.
The main hall of Tiamorrison General Hospital was, as always, cold and deserted, with scarcely a soul in sight.
Although the hospital was very famous, its fees were exorbitant; so unless absolutely necessary, few wizards chose to come here when they were ill.
"Adrian—"
A familiar voice came from beside him.
His mother, Lia, was hurrying down a side-hall corridor. She wore deep-green Healer's robes, her brown-black hair loosely pinned at the back of her head, a delighted smile on her face.
"Mum."
Adrian gave his mother a light hug.
Then he looked around and noticed no sign of his father.
By rights, his father ought to have come to meet him together with his mother.
Lia soon answered his unspoken question.
With a sigh, she straightened Adrian's slightly rumpled collar. "Your dad got a message yesterday—someone spotted an extremely rare herb at a nearby market. You know what he's like—couldn't he have gone another day? Such a headache…"
Adrian nodded. That did fit his father's way of doing things.
Still, everything he did was for the sake of curing his daughter's illness, and Adrian understood that very well.
Then Lia suddenly put on a stern face and began to scold Adrian. "And you—how many times have I told you to send me a letter every few months? And what did you do? Nine whole months and three days! Not a whisper…"
Same as ever—Adrian relaxed at once.
After listening to his mother's lecture for quite a while, Adrian finally had the chance to ask a question.
"How's Ariana? What's the situation?"
Yes—Ariana. That was the name of Adrian's younger sister.
A striking coincidence.
The same name as in the original books—Ariana Dumbledore.
Precisely because of that name, Adrian remembered that when he had been at Hogwarts she'd often drawn Dumbledore's attention.
Hearing Adrian's question, Lia's expression dimmed at once. She shook her head gently. "The same as always—still unconscious."
Adrian nodded slowly. That was within his expectations.
"I'll go and see her."
"Ward Eighteen, same as before." Lia nodded and walked ahead of Adrian.
They proceeded along a corridor carpeted in deep blue; after passing several corners and two flights of stairs,
they entered a room with a "No Admittance" sign on the door.
Inside, there was only a single bed, a wooden table, and a small Christmas tree by the bedside.
The heavy curtains were drawn back a slit, letting a shaft of sunlight fall slantwise across the bed.
Ariana lay there quietly with her eyes closed, looking very serene.
She had the same blue eyes and brown-black long hair as Adrian's mother.
All these years, Ariana had remained exactly like this.
Her face had not changed in the least, still bearing the soft contours unique to a young girl, as if time itself had frozen upon her.
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