Harry's cheeks began heating up. At the same time, the sheets covering him formed a small tent.
Gods, there must be something wrong with him, thinking about Lisa like... like... like that! She was like his little sister! Not... well, not someone he saw in that particular light. Like someone he was inclined to love romantically. She was practically family!
Wanting to dispel these thoughts, Harry quickly began practicing some of the more advanced forms of Occlumency meditation. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Conjure an image of something plain, something that can be pictured easily. A grassy plain under a clear blue sky that stretched out for miles before dipping far beyond the event horizon and showing blue snow capped mountains in the distance. Nothing else existed except that plain and those mountains.
Taking one more deep breath, Harry felt some of the... tension in his pants bleed out. The problem was still there, but he had read that a cold shower would fix that. Which was why his next stop was the bathroom.
As Harry stepped into the ice cold water and began going through the meticulous process of cleaning himself, his mind began wandering.
He needed help. That much was clear. While Harry had an idea of what was wrong with him, he really wanted someone else to confirm it before he decided what his next step would be.
Of course, he wasn't going to actually mention what he was going through. There was no way he was going to tell someone about the dreams he's been having of Selene's departure, of that incredible kiss she had given him. It was bad enough he had to ask for help in dealing with this matter, nothing on this good green earth would convince him to actually admit he might be having a problem.
There was still the matter that he needed to talk to someone, an expert in wizarding biology and growth. This was not a problem he could solve on his own without acquiring more information.
Fortunately, he knew someone who could help him. Someone he had met last year at the New Year Gala. He just had to send her a message and schedule an appointment.
XoX
Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was the only magical hospital within all of Britain. That was not to say that it was the only place for treatment for magical injuries and maladies. Purebloods often had their own private medical staff for anything not life threatening, and Hogwarts had the hospital wing where Madame Pomfrey awaited to take care of any sicknesses or injuries. But those places were not hospitals, no true hospitals at any rate.
Funded sometime in the sixteen hundreds by Mungo Bonham, Saint Mungo's was the first of it's kind in wizarding Britain. The first, and still the only.
Like all places within the magical community, it was hidden away from the prying eyes of those who could not use magic by powerful enchantments. To anyone looking, Saint Mungo's Hospital would appear to be nothing more than an abandoned, rundown department store called Purge and Dowse, Ltd.
Harry Potter examined the entrance with a critical eye. His irises scanning over the dull red bricks that looked chipped and cracked in several places. He observed the sign naming the store, the lights no longer turned on and the sign was stained and dirty. No one who didn't know what this place was would have been able to find it.
Except for Harry and maybe a few others.
While his enhanced vision did not grant him the ability to see magic at work, his incredible sense of spatial awareness and sensitivity to magic allowed him to feel it. The magic here was very different than what he felt at King's Cross. Where that one felt like some kind of gateway, a link between one place and another, a portal, this one felt much less defined, less solid. If he had to guess, he would say that the hospital was being hidden by a well placed and powerful illusion.
Walking forward, his wizarding cloak fluttering behind him, Harry made his way over to the image of the rundown department store and stepped through the front window.
And in doing so, stepped into what looked like an entirely different world.
The place Harry now stood in was a reception area and waiting room. One half of the room was made of white tiles while the other half had an off white carpet. In the carpeted area were several comfortable looking armchairs and a few tables that had newspapers and magazines such as the Daily Profit and Teen Witch Weekly. A few people were sitting there, many with what looked like the most unusual problems Harry had ever seen.
Sitting nearest to the entrance was a very thin man with graying hair, a small nose and the largest pair of lips Harry had ever laid eyes on. For a moment, he almost thought they were naturally that large. It was only when spotting how puffy they were and the fact that they randomly changed color after every six second interval that he realized the man was suffering under some kind of illness or maybe some kind of curse. It looked like he ran afoul of a prank the Weasley twins might have cooked up.
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