The new adults stared at the girl boggle eyed on the trip to visit Mr Weasley, something that made her far anxious. So much attention, it was nerve wracking. Hermione comforted her, assuring the adults were just an odd bunch anyhow. She had nothing to say when Mr Weasley stared at her with strangeness however.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr Weasley. I do hope you make a full recovery" She nods in respect, a certain red haired twin gazing at her with heart shaped eyes.

"Thank you, dear. Likewise, uh, to meet you, I mean." He was at a loss for words, trying to look at his wife for confirmation but was still too stunned.

"Everything alright, Arthur?" His wife offers, hoping he meant she was referring to his injuries.

"Fine, fine. You, er, haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?" He recovers.

"No, why?" She grows skeptical.

"Nothing, nothing. Well, everyone had a good day? You, uh, Vipe- Viper? Heard you spent the night as well. What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, Harry, this is absolutely wonderful—" Arthur was quick to turn his attitude around, the girl nods thankfully. His wife only growing worried as he reached for Harry.

"Arthur, 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." She grows concerned for her husband, the kids in turn worrying too.

"What? No, no- It's nothing, it's- I-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-" Viper nods, having read the practices in her studies.

"They also are using staples in some places, both are effective to some degree but stitches are-.. I'm sorry." The girl shrunk from Mrs Weasley horrified look, Arthur nodding to the alternative method.

"Staples..?!" Ron almost faints.

"Do you mean to tell me.. that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?" Viper frowned, not sure if she had made it worse.

"Not messing about, Molly, dear. 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-" He tries to reason before faltering.

"Meaning?" She pushes.

"Well.. well, I don't know whether you know what, what stitches are?" He questions, hoping she didn't in detail.

"It sounds as though you've been trying to sew your skin back together." Huh, guess she did know.

"-but even you, Arthur, wouldn't be that stupid-" Ohhahah, but he is. A stupid, curious lad he is.

"I fancy a cup of tea too.." Harry suddenly spring to his feet, the younger ones in the bunch rushing after him.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?!" The kids duck from the yelling that could be heard, relieved of the tension that was getting further away.

"Typical dad. Stitches.." Ginny sighs. Ron grimaced, turning to the newer female.

"Staples?!" She chuckles at this, Hermione rolling her eyes at the boy but couldn't help but cringe at the thought. Her parents were Muggle, so she was familiar but still, wasn't exactly a pleasant thing to endure or discuss.

"Well, you know, they do work well on non-magical wounds. I suppose something in that snake's venom dissolves them or something. I wonder where the tearoom is?" Hermione comments.

"Fifth floor." Harry answers.

   The kids carry on, spectating as they trailed up the stairs and based the brutal-looking-healers, who antagonized them the way one, one of them getting Ron going. Saying he had the bad case of spattergroit.

"And what's that supposed to be?" Ron gave in and asked heatedly.

"'Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now-" 

"Watch who you're calling gruesome!" Ron stepped.

"The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes-" The Portrait began to give far fetched remedies, ones we question how old folk come to get such ideas and remedies.

"I have not got spattergroit!"

"But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage, young master-" The Portrait tries to reason.

"They're freckles! Now get back in your own picture and leave me alone!" Ron retorts vividly.

"What floor's this?"

"I think it's the fifth," Hermione almost shrugs.

"Nah, it's the fourth. one more-" Harry starts, his attention drawing the others to a man in the windows with his face pressed against the glass. The section they were in:Spell Damage.

"Blimey!" Ron exclaims in fright, his face pulled back as he stares at the person smudged up on the other side of the glass.

"Oh, that's just creepy." Viper murmurs as she raises her brows.

"Oh my goodness.. Professor Lockhart!" Viper examined him further at this, having just done a report on him not to long ago, it was interesting to see the man in person.

"Well, hello there! I expect you'd like my autograph, would you?" He offers.

"Hasn't changed much, has he?" Harry jest with Ginny.

"I'm very well indeed, thank you! Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!" He wonders in arrogance.

"Er, we don't want any at the moment, thanks. Professor, should you be wandering around the corridors? Shouldn't you be in a ward?" Lockhart enthusiasm fades some before turning to Harry.

"Haven't we met. Hey, you look familiar too!" His eyes bounce from Harry to the girl with dark hair. She raises a brow.

"I've never met you." He frowns, turning to Harry.

"Er, yeah. We have. You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?" Harry chooses to ignore the twos encounter.

"Teach? Me? Did I?" He ponders.

"Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!" They were saved as a head poking out into the hall, seeing the man hounding the children.

"Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to? Oh Gilderoy, you've got visitors! How lovely, and on Christmas Day too! Do you know, he never gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can't think why, he's such a sweetie, aren't you?" She exclaims suddenly, probably glad someone else could distract him for a little while. She had seized the opportunity.

"We're doing autographs! They want loads of them, won't take no for an answer! I just hope we've got enough photographs!" He hypes.

"Listen to him.. He was rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be coming back a little bit. Will you step this way? He's in a closed ward, you know, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmas presents, the door's usually kept locked-not that he's dangerous! But..bit of a danger to himself, bless him.. Doesn't know who he is, you see, wanders off and can't remember how to get back.. It is nice of you to have come to see him-" The lot feels for the man, guilt eating at some.

"Actually, we were just, er-" Ron tries to save the group but fails.

"Let's not stay long." Ron gives in, the bunch filing after the nurse and patient.

"This is our long-term resident ward. For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement.. Gilderoy does seem to be getting back some sense of himself, and we've seen a real improvement in Mr. Bode, he seems to be regaining the power of speech very well, though he isn't speaking any language we recognize yet.. Well, I must finish giving out the Christmas presents, I'll leave you all to chat..." The Healer explains, soon gesturing you a new patient in bed. Viper pitied the Mr Lockhart, just reading about him the information was still fresh.

"You can put them in envelopes." Harry says tossing the signed photographs to Ginny.

"I am not forgotten, you know, no, I still receive a very great deal of fan mail. Gladys Gudgeon writes weekly.. I just wish I knew why.. I suspect it is simply my good looks." She decided to ease the man.

"Ya know, I just read a whole wide variety of your previous work on charms.. I must say, your work itself was rather charming." She gives into the mans pride, considering it his Christmas gift. His eyes swell as most of the group turns to her. The girls raising a brow as they learn in closer.

"Do you really?"

"You actually find that charming?"

"Oh, not in the slightest." She drops seriously but continues smiling with such friendliness, almost frightening the girls.

"Hey, I wonder if Professor Snape would be able to undo it. I'm sure if any one can, he'd probably be able too." The girl shrugs carelessly with the suggestion as the old professor signs more madly to give her mindlessly as she turned to Ron who looked petrified and generally concerned.

"Why on any planet-! Would you suggest him-? To help?!" She knew curses were extremely difficult to break, in most cases only reversably through torture.. but still. She wanted to say she believed in him. That if anyone can, he could.

"What makes you think he can do it when even the healers can't?" Ron continues incredulously. She shrugs once more.

"Because he's extremely skillful in potion making." Ron stares at her and prays for her right mind. Luckily the topic wasn't pressed further, as they hear the name Longbottom come up.

"Neville! It's us, Neville! Have you seen? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?" Ron crudely shouts out to his schoolmate, getting to his feet.

"Friends of yours, Neville, dear? Ah, yes. Yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you." The grandmother gazes to Harry, her eyes shifting about the bunch.

"Er, thanks." He says with uncertainty.

"And you two are clearly Weasleys. Yes, I know your parents, not well, of course, but fine people, fine people.. And you must be Hermione Granger?" She goes about the group.

"You're the curious little Slytherin, yes? Viper Ripley. Such a curious name too." She smiles cordially to the older woman, as Neville looks at her mortified. No filter!

"It was my father's choosing. Pleasure to make your aqaintance."

"Yes, Neville's told me all about you lot. Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven't you? He's a good boy, but he hasn't got his father's talent, I'm afraid to say.." The older woman nods at the greetings.

"What?" The group asked in shock, realizing who the people in the bed were. Viper looks, a pang striking her before turning back to the boy who was clearly upset with his grandmother.

"Is that your dad down the end, Neville?" Ron gasps.

"What's this? Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?" She turns, appalled.

"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of! You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!" The group felt for the boy.

"I'm not ashamed.." He murmurs.

"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it! My son and his wife, were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers." Her eyes linger towards the girl with bright blue eyes, her grandson wanting to scold her for such an action. Acting all accusing..!

"They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the Wizarding community. Highly gifted, the pair of them. I- Yes, Alice dear, what is it?" She stops in her words as Mrs Longbottom sauntered staggeredly from bed. Viper breathed in deeply at the sight of the woman as she was closer, her worn out state and deteriorated mind made her feel bad. Guilty.

"Again? Very well, Alice dear, very well- Neville, take it, whatever it is.." She instructs the boy.

"Very nice, dear." The grandmother offers feign praise as she drops a gum wrapping into his hand.

"Thanks Mum.." Neville offers, watching his mother sadly as she walks off elsewhere.

"Well, we'd better get back. Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now.." He doesn't throw it out.

"Poor Neville." I whisper mournfully for the boy, glancing back to his parents.

"I never knew." Hermione almost cried.

"Nor did I." Ron breathes.

"Not me." Ginny murmurs. Harry stayed rather quietly, causing us to turn to him in question.

"I did. Dumbledore told me but I promised I wouldn't mention it.. that's what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent to Azkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until they lost their minds." I gasp as I cover my mouth at this. A part of me wanting to avenge the boy's parents while another told me to stay out of it.

"Bellatrix Lestrange did that? That woman Kreacher's got a photo of in his den?" Hermione gasps out. It was silent for a moment as this sunk in. Lockhart suddenly on us.

"Look, I didn't learn joined-up writing for nothing, you know!"