The entrance to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was in the Clear Soak Department Store in London, England, and worked much like the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
An exceedingly ugly alchemical doll hung beside the "Closed" sign in the window of the old-fashioned red-brick shop.
Wizards seeking treatment only had to tell the puppet why they had come. Once it waved them through, they could enter St. Mungo's through the glass.
Shawn had learned how all this worked beforehand and entered St. Mungo's without any trouble.
He had thought the place would be quiet on Christmas Day.
But the noise and strange smells that greeted him made it feel more like a field hospital.
The reception and waiting area inside St. Mungo's was packed with patients suffering from all manner of bizarre magical illnesses and injuries. Missing arms or legs were nothing; some even had three heads, six arms, and tails.
Most of the injured were actually children from wizarding families who had hurt themselves using magic at home during the holidays.
Healers in dark green robes bustled through the crowd, constantly "soothing" agitated patients, their voices necessarily growing louder and louder.
Shawn looked around and reflected that few people in the wizarding world were genuinely ill. Far more had injured themselves through sheer recklessness.
He had never really witnessed the wonders of healing magic and medicinal potions firsthand. But on today's visit, he watched the healers effortlessly cure all manner of "intractable conditions."
Shawn suddenly had a wealth of inspiration.
He had previously come up with a plan to make medicinal meals available to everyone after learning about Snape's potion brewing, but he had been too busy to give it any attention.
The scene in the hospital reminded him of it again.
He felt