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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； remembering the sign over the welewitch's desk。
They walked along the corridor； through a set of double doors and found a rickety staircase lined with more portraits of brutal…looking Healers。 As they climbed it； the various Healers called out to them； diagnosing odd plaints and suggesting horrible remedies。 Ron was seriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearly had a bad case of spattergroit。
'And what's that supposed to be？' he asked angrily； as the Healer pursued him through six more portraits； shoving the occupants out of the way。
'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！' said Ron； his ears turning red。
'… the only remedy is to take the liver of a toad； bind it tight about your throat； stand naked at the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes …'
'I have not got spattergroit！'
'But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage； young master …'
They're freckles！' said Ron furiously。 'Now get back in your own picture and leave me alone！'
He rounded on the others； who were all keeping determinedly straight faces。
'What floor's this？'
'I think it's the fifth；' said Hermione。
'Nah； it's the fourth；' said Harry； 'one more …'
But as he stepped on to the landing he came to an abrupt halt； staring at the small window set into the double doors that marked the start of a corridor signposted SPELL DAMAGE。 A man was peering out at them all with his nose pressed against the glass。 He had wavy blond hair； bright blue eyes and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth。
'Blimey！' said Ron； also staring at the man。
'Oh； my goodness；' said Hermione suddenly； sounding breathless。 'Professor Lockhart！'
Their ex…Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher pushed open the doors and moved towards them； wearing a long lilac dressing gown。
'Well； hello there！' he said。 'I expect you'd like my autograph； would you？'
'Hasn't changed much； has he？' Harry muttered to Ginny； who grinned。
'Er … how are you； Professor？' said Ron； sounding slightly guilty。 It had been Ron's malfunctioning wand that had damaged Professor Lockhart's memory so badly that he had landed in St Mungo's in the first place； though as Lockhart had been attempting to permanently wipe Harry and Ron's memories at the time； Harry's sympathy was limited。
'I'm very well indeed； thank you！' said Lockhart exuberantly； pulling a rather battered peacock…feather quill from his pocket。 'Now； how many autographs would you like？ I can do joined…up writing now； you know！'
'Er … we don't want any at the moment； thanks；' said Ron； raising his eyebrows at Harry； who asked； 'Professor； should you be wandering around the corridors？ Shouldn't you be in a ward？'
The smile faded slowly from Lockhart's face。 For a few moments he gazed intently at Harry； then he said； 'Haven't we met？'
'Er： yeah； we have；' said Harry。 'You used to teach us at Hogwarts； remember？'
Teach？' repeated Lockhart； looking faintly unsettled。 'Me？ Did I？'
And then the smile reappeared upon his face so suddenly it was rather alarming。
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！'
But just then a head poked out of a door at the far end of the corridor and a voice called； 'Gilderoy； you naughty boy； where have you wandered off to？'
A motherly…looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came bustling up the corridor； smiling warmly at Harry and the others。
'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？'
'We're doing autographs！' Gilderoy told the Healer with another glittering smile。 They want loads of them； won't take no for an answer！ I just hope we've got enough photographs！'
'Listen to him；' said the Healer； taking Lockhart's arm and beaming fondly at him as though he were a precocious two…year…old。 '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 starting to e back。 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；' she lowered her voice to a whisper； 'he's a 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 e to see him。'
'Er；' said Ron； gesturing uselessly at the floor above； 'actually； we were just … er …'
But the Healer was smiling expectantly at them； and Ron's feeble mutter of 'going to have a cup of tea' trailed away into nothingness。 They looked at each other helplessly； then followed Lockhart and his Healer along the corridor。
'Let's not stay long；' Ron said quietly。
The Healer pointed her wand at the door of the Janus Thickey Ward and muttered； 'Alohomora。' The door swung open and she led the way inside； keeping a firm grasp on Gilderoys arm until she had settled him into an armchair beside his bed。
This is our long…term residents' ward；' she informed Harry； Ron；
Hermione and Ginny in a low voice。 '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 recognise yet。 Well； I must finish giving out the Christmas presents； I'll leave you all to chat。'
Harry looked around。 The ward bore unmistakeable signs of being a permanent home to its residents。 They had many more personal effects around their beds than in Mr Weasley's ward； the wall around Gilderoy's headboard； for instance； was papered with pictures of himself； all beaming toothily and waving at the new arrivals。 He had autographed many of them to himself in disjointed； childish writing。 The moment he had been deposited in his chair by the Healer； Gilderoy pulled a fresh stack of photographs towards him； seized a quill and started signing them all feverishly。
'You can put them in envelopes；' he said to Ginny； throwing the signed pictures into her lap one by one as he finished them。 '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 He paused； looking faintly puz