Carys smiled at the nurse who passed her the parchment and board she'd need in order to assess her next patient before hopefully being able to finish her shift and go to her meeting before heading home. She'd received a summons to the office of the Director of the Hospital, and she was curious, a little worried, and extremely excited to be meeting her Aunt and namesake for the first time later. Not that anyone would know that was what she was doing, as she hadn't been told about her parentage herself until recently, and she wasn't prepared to make a huge deal of it before she knew Mrs Tonks well enough to tell her what she knew.

'Thank you!' She said, flicking through the chart quickly and taking in all the information. She had been able to retain information quite well since she was a little girl, and could read 15,000 words a minute, so it was no trouble for her to understand his current predicament and reason out how many injuries like it he'd had in the past. 'Quidditch player?' She asked, and was answered by the nurse's nod and a roll of her eyes as she laughed and shook her head. Carys wasn't too sure why such a thing warranted a laugh, but she smiled along with her, pretending to be in on the joke.

'Those kids go careening into things all the time. I'm surprised we haven't had more in here since they've started training properly again!' The older witch told her, settling down in a seat behind the nurses' station in the emergency ward that Carys was currently stationed on during her rotations. 'You'll get on with him though, right looker he is, and don't he know it?'

Carys' smile dropped a little as she frowned down at his chart. There was never anything on the parchment which could tell you what a person was like or wasn't, just a name and their information, which led her to wonder how the nurse could know that about him if he'd only just been sent in by the welcome witch downstairs for an assessment and first treatment.

'Oh, he's @nathan ! Haven't you heard of him?' The nurse asked her, slightly shocked. When Carys heard the name rather than read it, something clicked in her brain and she instantly brought his image to her mind. Or, at least, his image when he was an eighteen year old before he'd left the castle. Nathan was from the year above her at Hogwarts, and to say he was absolutely gorgeous would be a bit of an understatement. 'You're blushing! You do know him then!' The nurse joked, poking her in the arm and grinning as Carys felt herself blush a little.

'We went to Hogwarts together, if you must know, and he's not all that.' Carys told her, poking her tongue out slightly childishly. The nurse laughed and tapped her nose with a quill before letting an mhmm slip out and pretending to concentrate on whatever it was she was doodling on today. 'You can believe what you will, but he's not.' She complained before tapping the witch on the top of her head with the parchment, sans board, and spinning on her heel to head over and treat him.

A second later, she was back, leaning over the desk and whispering down to the now laughing nurse.

'Do I look bad? I mean, not that I really care, it doesn't matter, but do I? How's my hair?' She asked nervously, trying to smooth any stray hairs down over the top of her head and moving her face from side to side so that the nurse could see her face close up for imperfections.

'You look annoyingly beautiful as usual, as if you've only just got here rather than working for the past twelve hours! Now go! And I thought you didn't like him?' The nurse asked, barely containing her laughter.

'I don't! I just don't want to seem like the boring little Hufflepuff who no one talked to again!' Carys whined slightly, uncharacteristically not rushing straight over to treat the man, and leaning against the desk, gazing in the direction of his closed curtains instead. A second later, she was stumbling forwards a couple of steps in her tight skirt and heels, unable to stop herself. When she looked back and glared, the nurse had the cheek to look entirely innocent.

'Then you shouldn't have any trouble treating him now will you? He won't recognise you Carys, go!' She was shooed away before she could think of something to snap back at the nurse jokingly, but as she left, she sent a spell over which balled the nurse's latest piece of plain parchment up and hit her over the head with it. 'Ow!'

Carys grinned as she clutched the board against her chest and crossed over to the curtains before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

'You can do this. You're a strong, independent Black woman who don't need no man.' She muttered to herself, repeating some muggle mantra her mum and her friends had found hilarious a year or two ago and now came to mind every time she was worried or scared about not getting something right. Whipping the curtain open just enough to step through, she closed it behind her and grinned down at the man in front of her.

'Shouldn't you have got the hang of holding onto your broom better by now?' She joked, trying not to blush as she realised the double entendre in her worlds. She really hoped he didn't recognise her, but she knew that if some of her friends hadn't, then someone she'd hardly managed to speak two words to at school wouldn't have a chance.

Outfit

In Quidditch, injuries were quite common… well, common enough, at least. Usually, as a beater, he was causing more than he experienced himself, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t gotten knocked around himself a bit in games. It was just apart of the game, and he was well used to it by now. For the most part, he didn’t think too much of a few bruises from bludger hits, and it didn’t commonly get more serious than that. There were healers on sight for games, but for practices, it wasn’t as big of a deal. Now that trainings were back in session, and they were back to training hard in order to get ready for the upcoming season, it wasn’t uncommon for him to come out of practice with a few bruises. He and the other beater went just as hard on each other as they would if they were playing their rival, as there wasn’t any other way to get prepared, quite frankly.

Besides, Nathan quite liked knocking other beaters off their brooms. In his mind, it could prove to be a good strategy. With the beaters out of commission, it put the bludgers in their control entirely, and that only worked in their advantage during a game. The fact of the matter was, he was good at what he did. It was why he played professionally, and so the same could obviously be said for his fellow beater. Today had gotten a little bit out of hand, though it had started out all in good fun, of course. Near the end of practice, he’d suffered a hard hit to the back of the head, which should have been enough to have him landing just as a precaution. But he hadn’t… of course. He’d been dazed for a few moments, not being able to really see straight, due to the pounding of his head, but he’d just brushed it off and sent a bludger back in his teammate’s direction.

He’d had his fair share of concussions over the year, as was per usual, so he supposed he should have recognized the signs. But he was also used to so many hits that it was easy to brush them off as not particularly serious. Nathan hadn’t realized it was until he’d came to on the ground of the stadium. He’d fallen off his broom… the team was never going to let him live that down—once he was all right, of course. But he’d been sent right along to St. Mungo’s, though he protested. He needed it… his arm was broken clear as day, and he was sure that wasn’t all, but he really liked to avoid actually going to the hospital unless he had to. Let alone on a magical stretcher, which had seemed very dramatic, in his opinion.

Yet, his protests had gone unheard, and here he was. He didn’t know how long he’d been waiting, but he’d wager it wasn’t too long. He’d been greeted by the welcome witch… and what a welcome she’d given him. There was nothing like a good view to cheer him up, or so he’d told her, yet it was very much true. Afterwards, he’d been sent up here, where he waited behind curtains on a hospital bed. There was a hell of a lot he’d rather be doing, yet he didn’t seem to have much choice in the matter. His coach was in the waiting room, waiting for him to have a clean bill of health before he would be allowed to fly again at the next practice. It was all a bit unnecessary in his opinion. But rules were rules, or so he’d been told, at least.

He was getting quite bored, even though he knew he couldn’t have been waiting for more than a couple of minutes. Nathan just didn’t much care for sitting still… unless he was sleeping. But that was only because of his inherent hate of mornings and waking up. Once he was awake, though, that was another story entirely. Then sitting still just became torturous. It wasn’t long enough there was movement, and he glanced up to see someone stepping through the curtains. An attractive someone. Did such an attractive healer even exist? He supposed he’d find out, because as of this moment, all he could be sure of was that being injured suddenly seemed like one of his better ideas.

A smirk formed against his lips, first at her words, and then at the blush the colored her cheeks as she’d spoken. If she was his healer, he was going to have fun with this. If she wasn’t, well, then he was still going to have fun with this. There was no changing that. “I usually have a much better handle over it—I promise this has never happened before.” He answered, his smirk turning into a full-fledged grin.

Carys' eyes widened an infinitesimal amount as she saw the smirk which came before Nathan's response, and when he'd finished, a tiny relieved breath released between her lips, making them pout out for a second as she relaxed slightly. He didn't know who she was, clearly, because if he did then he'd have made a more on the nose remark about how she'd been unable to control her broom, but he was perfectly able to in normal circumstances.

Shooting him an involuntary half smirk, she rolled her eyes and stepped closer to the bed, willing her hands not to shake slightly as she dropped her hip to the side and placed the hand not currently holding the board to rest just above it.

'And how did this happen? If you're so able to handle your broom? No wonder you fell off if all that was holding you up was a little stick of wood between your legs!' Again, she felt a tiny blush come to her cheeks as she realised just how ridiculous such a question was, and how stupid she sounded asking about his broom. He's a beater. Its obvious that he got hit by a bludger which unseated him, and I'd steer clear of the accidental double-entendres if I were you, which I am, because you'll end up accidentally harassing the poor bloke. Carys told herself dryly as she put the board down on the conveniently placed bedside table and tried to calm herself from being quite so nervous as she bent to look at his arm. 'I suppose I should be worried about the poor broom being broken, should I?' 

Broken arm, concussion apparent, potential acquired hernia where his top is lifting, above his right hip. Will need to perform further examination to discern any further injuries. Carys reeled off to herself, touching his arm gingerly before reaching both hands up and moving her face around his, noting his concussion easily as her brain went into Healer mode before returning with a crash back down to earth when she realised she'd have to remove his top and at least wave her wand over, or more likely feel his legs to tell if he had any other things one might miss with a cursory glance. Injury to the skull not threatening, arm break in two places, more than likely other injuries masked by the pain of these, potential walking dislocation but won't be sure unless able to get a better look at the area.

Carys looked behind her before she straightened, her head still turned away as she examined the curtains surrounding his bed. There were two ways she could get out of having to see his body and most probably have to feel it to fix any damage, and those were if she feigned sickness or injured herself, or if she called for a more senior Healer to take over. Either one would not look good, especially when both would stop her from attending the meeting later and would probably give her a mark against her perfect record with St Mungo's.

Her nervousness reared its head, and she looked back at him for a moment before holding up a finger and giving him an awkward, somehow breathless little chuckle from deep in her throat.

'One moment, I just need to erm... Confer with a colleague.' She told him, her eyes widening as she patted the bed beside his leg and nodded, more to herself than to him. Yes! That's it! Perfect! Carys told herself as she backed out of the makeshift sick room, slowly opening the curtains before whipping them closed again once she was on the other side, spinning on her heels and rushing back over to the nurse at the station who had a hand pressed against her mouth to stop herself from laughing loudly.

'What do I do?' She stage whispered as she dashed the rest of the way, turning her half-jog into a fast paced walk when she noticed another Healer exit one of the sectioned off areas and give her a smile which she returned. Leaning back once her palms were pressed to the counter, she made sure they were occupied with entering another of the areas to see to a patient, before she leaned half over the desk anxiously.

'I have to touch him, what do I do?' She asked urgently, which set the nurse off into a spasm which could only be stopped when Carys reached out a hand and plucked the witch's arm from covering her mouth. This released a couple of giggles before she was able to calm herself enough to answer.

'Oh no, whatever will you do? Its not like that's your job or anything, is it!?' The witch asked, failing to keep the laughter from her voice as Carys hopped from one foot to the other anxiously. 'Besides, I didn't think it mattered to you?'

'Shush you, it doesn't, and I know you probably only gave him to me because you knew Suzanne, Aoife, or Rikard would faint at the sight of him.' She complained, looking about her and nabbing a couple of pieces of parchment with almost unreadable writing on them, hitting the nurse over the head for her unhelpful response to her freak out and giving her one last glare before she headed back to Nathan.

Oh no, what if he heard you running? She thought as she reached the curtain again, realising that her heels had made quite a loud clacking noise as she'd returned. Steeling herself with her inner mantra again, she took a fistful of the curtain, opening and shutting it behind her again with a grin.

'Perfect! Sorry, just forgot these... Little notes...?' She told him, waving the papers in front of her before slotting them down underneath the board with his notes, realising she could read the writing as she did so.

Give him to Carys!
You know Aoife took dibs if he was ever admitted!
Yeah, well Carys needs to practice her flirting, and I bet you three galleons she chickens out!
Four and you're on, the dumb blonde probably doesn't even know how to fix a broken arm, let alone a concussion. Did you hear she got called to Director Tonks' off-

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Carys took a breath and whipped around as she shoved the papers beneath the board completely, turning to face Nathan and completely ready for the challenge. If two of her rival Healers thought she wasn't up to the task, she would prove them wrong.

'If you'd allow me, Mr Reynolds, it looks like I'll have to feel your body for any other injuries. You could leave your top on if you'd prefer, but to assess and heal you, it'd probably be better-?' Oh damn. Oh damn damn day-am! YOU DID NOT JUST ASK THAT QUESTION LIKE THAT! Carys took a deep breath as her eyes grew round and her face dropped in shock, before she turned and started pretending to read his records again frantically, not knowing what she was looking for except for an escape route. Clearing her throat, she refused to look at her patient as she tried not to die. 'I mean... Poke around your body, and-' Nope, making it worse, just shut up before you tell him you need to check his legs too, which you do, and say something even worse.

'Of course, if you'd prefer a male Healer, you could request one and it would make this less uncomfortable.' Carys told him, truly hoping he did because then she could get out of there with her dignity intact, not give him any grounds to question her training, and it might give her time to remember to ask why exactly they needed to do full examinations if they were witches and wizards.

That being said, she was sure most people might not notice or believe her when she told them he had an unusual looking bump above his right hip, which she'd noticed from one cursory glance, and was slightly worried about. Still, do you really want to go poking around his hip if its nothing, and get called out for harassment?

Injuries were just apart of Quidditch… came with any sport, really. For the most part, he inflicted them as opposed to receiving them himself, but both incidents were common. He usually just brushed it off and moved on—particularly during a game. Nothing was going to stop him from doing everything he could do finish a game, no matter what the injury. Besides, with the competitive air that a game provided, adrenaline normally kept him going as long as long as he needed to on the off case an injury should bench him for the rest of the time. But even in practices, Nathan wasn’t one to think much of injuries. He’d seen it all, whether personally or because of a teammate, and there wasn’t much of a point in getting too torn up about it. He’d say that was pretty common with all players… no one wanted to be sent to St. Mungo’s or forced to sit out games or practices.

But today, he hadn’t had much of a choice. His coach had come with him after the incident, and he knew that he wouldn’t be content to let him play again until he was sure that he was all right. Usually, the coach only came for more serious injuries, and he didn’t think this fell in that realm, but Nathan had skipped out on getting healed too many times in the past, and so he’d been caught in the act. Now, he had his coach in the waiting room, ridiculously enough, and he was stuck in this bed until someone came along and sorted him out. It wasn’t exactly how he wanted to spend his afternoon, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. He just hoped whatever the hell was wrong with him was easy enough to heal right up. Merlin forbid he had to stay there for the rest of the evening, but he really bloody doubted that would come to pass.

Nathan was the type that got bored quite easily… it was why he was nearly always surrounded by people at any given time. He felt more at home in the middle of a crowd than he did by himself, which made sitting in a bed closed off by curtains extraordinarily boring, even despite his injuries. He had half a mind to see if he could recall any healing charms he’d learned at school and sort himself out enough to convince his coach he’d been seen to. But he’d always be bloody awful at charm—it was his worst subject for a reason back at Hogwarts, and so he stayed put.

It wasn’t too much longer, though, when the curtain was whipped back and someone stepped through. She hasn’t what he was expecting, that was for certain. Nathan imagined she must be his healer, or she should be in there… but damn, she had made him feel better just by walking into the makeshift room. But at her comment, and blush, he figured this might be more amusing than just another attractive healer fixing him right up. He’d seen some good-looking healers working here, after all—that wasn’t new, but none of them looked quite like she did. And none of them had ever said shit like this. Usually, they were almost annoyingly professional—their jobs, he supposed, and he made it his mission to get a smile out of them, which usually worked. If he had a male healer, it was a bit more boring, but usually got him in and out much faster as he had no one to flirt with.

But she looked a bit… embarrassed… flustered, at the very least, and he could work with that. He figured most people would think it was a less than brilliant idea to try to make the healer working on them flustered, but what was the worst that could happen? He’d seen all these injuries before, and he didn’t think it was all that serious. Well, he never did, really, so that was beside the point. His smirk turned into a grin as she spoke, her comment once again enhanced by a blush. Merlin, this was going to be fun. “In my defense, the stick of wood normally stays up just fine.” He answered, his expression innocent. Really, to be honest… with himself at least, he should have landed after the hit to the head, but he’d thought he was fine. Nathan didn’t move as the woman, whose name he still didn’t know, looked at his arm He supposed, if he thought about it, it did hurt. But he was so used to broken bones at this point that it didn’t even faze him. “Broom’s in perfect working condition.” Nathan added, his gaze moving to watch her as she continued to examine him.

From up close, she almost looked familiar, but he didn’t have a clue how. Nathan was sure that he would remember a witch like this one, so he chalked it up to just looking like someone that he did know. He had no idea who, but he’d blame his inability to riddle it out on the concussion, and not his normally excellent skills at placing how he knew a woman. He didn’t—there was just no way that he knew her and couldn’t immediately remember how. He’d recognize a face like that anywhere, he mused, though he should probably figure out her name to be sure. Just as he was about to speak though, she told him to wait a moment and immediately left the room. She was a nervous little thing, though she seemed to be doing just fine… at least, he didn’t think she was doing anything wrong with the experience that he did have with healers. Perhaps she was new—he didn’t know shit about working here or being a healer, but she looked around his age, so if she was out of training, he imagined it couldn’t have been for long.

Once again, it wasn’t too long before the curtains opened again and she stepped through. If she remained flustered enough to keep coming and going like this, Nathan was quite sure he’d be here a hell of a long time. But with her around, he almost didn’t mind. Hell, he could stay all night. “So you want me to take my shirt off,” he answered, another smirk forming on his lips as he interrupted her rambling. The comment was mild compared to other ones that came to mind, but she seemed flustered enough on her own without him adding too much to it.

When she mentioned a male healer, he shook his head. There would be absolutely no fun in that at all, and this was proving to be far too amusing to possibly consider someone else. “I’m not uncomfortable.” Nathan countered, his eyebrows raised. She seemed to be, but he was entirely fine. To emphasis his point, he sat up in the cot, not the best location for flirting, most would say, and pulled off his shirt. He struggled for perhaps a second trying to deal with his broken arm, but as he was so used to injuries like that, it was easy to ignore the sharp pain at the movement. “All yours,” he added, as he dropped back against the pillows. Being in a hospital bed wouldn’t stop him from flirting, as he was truly comfortable in any setting, but he was glad that he was at least sitting up and not sprawled down in the bed like an invalid. That would have been far more difficult to work with.

Carys... Could not really breathe right now. He'd taken his top off with one quick movement, and the way he'd told her that he was all hers... She could feel her lungs seize and something flood through her body... Heat, it was definitely heat. Carys tried desperately to look somewhere other than his face, but just ended up skipping over the torso she dearly wanted to avoid as well, and stared for a few seconds at a safe zone.

Until she realised it wasn't a safe zone. Abort! Abort! Abort! Her mind screamed as she flailed about slightly, ripping her gaze away from his trouser pocket which was too close to somewhere else for her to be staring at, and trying to find somewhere to look whilst stammering slightly. Her hand connected with the edge of the board she'd left on the table, and it flipped, dropping to the ground with a rather loud clack.

'I...I...You, erm.' She turned away from him and bent over to pick up the board, before straightening out a second later when she realised that she'd just bent over in front of a patient, especially one who'd made her as flustered as she now was. Concentrate and act like a bloody healer before you lose your job! She told herself, taking a deep breath as she clutched the board with both hands, her back still to Nathan as she sent a silent prayer to whichever God might actually exist to help her in that moment. Heck, she even sent one off to her dad as well in case he knew anyone to help.

Please.. Sirius Orion Black... Dad... If you're up there and you can stop this, please do because I literally can't handle... Oh, and hi, I don't think I've ever potentially talked to you before, and I'm sure you're enjoying yourself up there, but please... Taking in a shakily deep breath, she whirled around again, straightening her shoulders and removing one hand from the board to point at his crotch.

'I... I...' Her eyes grew round as she stared at his face, and she tried desperately to get her professional mind to reengage. You can do this! You can! If you can work a twelve hour shift in those heels, you can do this! Carys felt something almost like a disillusionment charm seep through her from her head down, and rolled her shoulders again as her face became completely professional. Finally. 'I'm sorry, Mister...' She checked his chart for good measure, to remember that Healers weren't supposed to know the names of their patients off by heart. 'Mister Reynolds, but I think I'll need to examine you now. If you'd please hold still for a couple of minutes, I'm sure we'll have you out of here in no time. As it is, it seems that you have a hernia, a clearly broken arm, a couple of bruised ribs at least, and a possible dislocation.'

Deciding to check the hernia first, she placed the board carefully back on the table, being sure to flick a glance over before she did so, to be sure there would be no more awkward spills, and reached over him in order to concentrate on his right hip. It wasn't the best place to be prodding at this time, but as she laid a hand on his hip by his crotch, and the other on his side... Oh goodness, I didn't even know that muscle existed... Maybe its a medical abnormality- NO CONCENTRATE! She noticed that she was able to almost maintain her composure. She refused to look at him at that moment, knowing that this was the worst place to be looking into anyone's eyes during an examination, let alone his.

Rubbing her thumbs in around the bulge and trying not to put too much pressure on the bump, she pushed her head to the side, flicking her long hair over the opposite shoulder and giving the area more light than it had before when her hair had skimmed his skin.

'Tell me if I'm being too rough.' She murmured, concentrating on the area and massaging her palms forward to see how his muscles reacted to it, noting if he sucked in a breath of pain or not. Quidditch players tended to have a rather low pain threshold, meaning that when they were injured they suffered through it and didn't tend to feel the pain after a while. 'Okay, it looks as if you have an acquired hernia.' She told him, leaning back and looking him dead in the eye. 'I'll need to put a poultice on this... Nothing too bad, but it'll mean that you won't be able to perform any strenuous activities for at least two days. And by that, I do mean any strenuous activity, whether you think it counts or not.'

Carys had heard of, and experienced, too many patients coming back to the Hospital to complain that they didn't think something or the other was a particularly strenuous activity that she was now used to telling them straight whether something was acceptable or not.

'Now. The shoulder.' She murmured, releasing his side, rounding the bed and reaching up to lay her hands on his right shoulder. It seemed that he must have fallen on this side, or at least attempted to hold on to his broom subconsciously as he fell, because it was this side that had the most wrenches. 'Does this hurt?' She asked, waving her wand over his arm as she murmured a couple of spells and tried to see whether it was indeed dislocated, or simply wrenched. 'Don't act the hero here, if something's painful, you need to tell me so that I can stop. Otherwise it won't be safe.' That's what she said. Shut up!

Leaning closer to him, she put her wand hand to his bicep and moved his arm back, only a touch, and looked into his eyes to see whether it was hurting him at all. She had to ignore their closeness and focus on his reaction. People could control many parts of themselves, but usually one could tell through the person's eyes whether or not something was hurting them, from the infinitesimal movements, or dilation of their pupils. Breathe, love. She told herself, trying to ignore her slick palms and quick breaths.

'Am I hurting you?' She asked carefully, in the instant before she pulled his arm up, and rotated it, expertly resetting the joint within its socket as she held his arm around her. 'I'm sorry, its done.' She told him as she held his body against her side. 'It had to be done, now I can cast a couple of spells and it'll be healed. Otherwise you'd have had twelve weeks off the pitch.' Luckily it wasn't the same shoulder as the arm he'd broken, or it would have been much more difficult to do. He still had many injuries she needed to concentrate on, but the ones most threatening to his career were at least addressed.

'I'm sorry, I've learned its better not to give warning so that your arm is relaxed when I do that.' She admitted, still holding him, with her arm supporting him as if they were hugging, under his shoulder and splayed on his back. Well, the one which wasn't still holding his arm straight out as she was fitted perfectly into the gap his body and limb made.

Great... Now you can officially be professional because ain't nobody gonna like you when they know you could reset their joints in a moment. You've gone from being the dumb dark haired girl who broke her leg by falling off her broom in first year, to the dumb blonde who people don't think can treat people, to the dumb witch who just whole bodily attacked one of the best, and sexiest, Quidditch players in existence....

There had never been a time in his life where he could recall being anything but a flirt. He couldn’t help it. If he came across an attractive woman—witch or Muggle, he was going to strike up a conversation with her and see what happened. For the most part, he didn’t expect that to end in anything other than just that… some flirting and an intriguing conversation. Nathan wasn’t the type to think every bint in the world was just going to fall into his bed because he was a Quidditch player. It happened a fair bit, there was no denying that; but it wasn’t something that he just expected to occur at any given time. He flirted for the sake of flirting—for the sake of seeing a pretty woman smile or blush, or get flustered. If it resulted in more than that, all the better, but he liked simply playing it by ear and seeing what came of it.

He shouldn’t be making his healer nervous, unless he wanted to limp out of the hospital with less body parts than he came in with… that was what his sister would tell him, if she were here. She’d fix him with a pointed look and some comment about being shameless. She’d word it a fair bit better than that, of course—she was the writer in the family, but he quite liked being shameless. If it put him in situations like this one, he was absolutely all for it. It made a shit day a bit better, and anytime that he was injured at practice and forced to come here made for a bad run of it, normally. But with this particular healer, his day was already looking up.

Since she’d told him to take his shirt off… or greatly hinted at it amidst her ramble, Nathan saw no reason not to oblige. She had mentioned something about him being more comfortable with a male healer, but that simply wasn’t the case. He wasn’t more or less comfortable with anything—because, for the mot part, he was jut always going to be comfortable no matter what. He felt at ease in most if not all situations. He didn’t particularly like being alone, or in too much quiet, but apart from that, he was fine with just about anything.

If anything, she seemed like she would be more at ease if she were as far away from him as possible, which did make him wonder. He wasn’t exactly all that intimidating—she might be a closet Quidditch buff for all he knew, but she didn’t seem like a fan. Nathan knew well enough that he was attractive… if he didn’t have that natural confidence for himself, then being awarded Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile award would have given him a bit of a hint, but she worked at a hospital. He highly doubted he was the first Quidditch player she’d seen, or even first bloke that she’d found attractive that she’d worked on. If she got this nervous around every patient she had, Nathan didn’t think she would have lasted all that long here.

And that did make him wonder why the hell she was so nervous. He was enjoying making her flustered, true enough, but that didn’t make him any less curious as to just why it was this damn easy. All he had done was take his shirt off—something he was sure plenty of patients had done in the past, and she was knocking her board off of the table only moments later. Nathan chuckled at… just the ridiculousness of this whole endeavor, before watching as she bent over to pick up the board. He couldn’t really convince himself to pull his eyes away from the sight she presented him, but he did just as she straightened back up. Yes, he had a hell of a feeling that he’d be here for quite some time at this rate, but no other plans he had for the day sounded nearly as entertaining as this. Assuming that he came out of here with all of his body part intact and still was able to back up in the air for their next practice.

When the topic turned to healing and his injuries, Nathan supposed he would let her have a few moments and not purposefully try to fluster her. She was just doing her job, after all, and he did want to come out of here in one piece… and making his healer nervous seemed like the opposite route to take to ensure that. “Won’t move a muscle, I promise,” he answered, watching her closely as she got to work. He’d heard a lot about every damn injury under the sun, if it had to do with Quidditch, and hernias made that list. They sounded relatively unimpressive, if he were the type to try to impress a woman with the tale of how he came to be lying in the hospital bed. But since she already knew that, there wasn’t much of a reason to do anything of the sort.

He didn’t know if it came with playing Quidditch, or if he had always had a high pain tolerance, but he wasn’t all that fazed by pain or injuries. “I can take it,” was his only response to her comment about being too rough, though his tone was still teasing enough to sense a slight double meaning to his words. There were plenty of ways she’d rather him be being rough with him that didn’t involve a hernia and a hospital cot, but those were thoughts he pushed aside a quickly as they came. The flirting and joking aside, she was still his healer.

Eventually, she pulled away, and he made a face at her words. It was unlikely he’d even wait two hours, but he wasn’t going to say that. “Two days,” he repeated, with a whistle of disbelief. Forty-eight hours was hardly a long time, but that was still missing one practice, and that was one more than he was interested in missing. “What about one day?” He countered, raising his eyebrows. Healers were always more cautious than they needed to be. Or so he would continue to tell himself, at least.

The moment that he’d first come to, on the ground of the pitch unfortunately, he’d only noticed two of his injuries. That his arm was broken, and his shoulder was dislocated. He always noticed the obvious ones, and the ones that affected him most of all. If shit went wrong with his arms or shoulders, he couldn’t do his job, so that was what was most important. So he was relieved when the healer determined that the shoulder was next to sort out. “It’s fine.” Nathan said in response. It didn’t feel great, he supposed, but it was hardly anything all that serious.

When it came to dislocation, Nathan was pretty damn used to it all. He’d had several over the years, either popped back into place at the hospital or at the pitch, depending on the situation. So when she began to move his arm, it was exactly what he’d been expecting. He just focused on his breathing, and other than his jaw clenching infinitesimally, he remained unfazed. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but nothing that he wasn’t used to either. This time, when she asked if she was hurting him, he didn’t have time to answer before she had rotated his arm and popping it back into place.

A groan of surprise, more than anything, left his lips, but he found himself chuckling. “Don’t apologize, I assure you I’ll live.” Nathan answered. He was entirely aware of her proximity, which he had no complaints about, but he was surprised at how calm she was compared to how flustered she’d been when he had simply taken his shirt off earlier. “I’ve had enough dislocations to know how it goes.” He assured her, his head turning enough to look at her, which only lessened the proximity between them. Healer or not, he couldn’t exactly help himself when she was this close to him. Not that he’d cross any lines while she was doing her job… he was shameless but not that shameless. “What now?” He asked after a moment’s pause, his eyes still focused on her. Merlin, she looked familiar… the thought came back to him again, but once again, he found himself brushing it off.

'Two days. Mister Reynolds. And that includes any sexual activity as well.' Carys warned him, staring at his arm and trying to move his arm slightly whilst waving her wand over it to cast the beginnings of the healing incantations over it. 'If you do, you may lose your career because of a small otherwise heal-able hernia. If you were a muggle, you'd have to wait for up to twelve weeks, so just be thankful that you are not!' She continued, dropping his arm and scooching her way around the bed again, washing her hands by running them over each other about an inch or two from touching, using wandless magic to scour them before she performed the next part of her examination.

Carys tried desperately to calm herself down, but the way he'd looked at her after she'd put his arm back into its socket, telling her that he'd had his fair share of dislocations, before that assessing pause and then the almost taunting way he'd said what now?... Did he recognise her?

Dear Merlin, but if he did, then she'd be shaking a fist at her father, wherever he was because he was clearly having too much fun and not getting in with the right people so that he could help her here.

I like you still! If there is a heaven, which I'm sure you got into, then I'm sorry I'm being pushy, I'm just stressed! She yelled, in case any one could actually hear her thoughts, and then felt her cheeks grow hot as she realised that that was a real possibility right here, let alone wherever the afterlife was. If there is one. Okay, yes, thank you! I get it! She argued with herself, reaching his broken arm and gingerly touching it, in case she moved the bone any more.

'It looks like its broken in two places, but fractured in another.' She mused out loud, trying to ignore his still very naked chest so close to her. And his poor bicep, the bone was half bulging out of the muscle. Gonna be sick. No you're not, you've seen worse. Not on Nathan fricking Reynolds, you haven't! She took a steady breath before grimacing slightly and waving her wand in an intricate pattern, aiming to fix his arm in a matter of moments.

A couple of anxious seconds later, she stepped back and admired his now completely healed appendage. Appendage!? Not the right language, Carys! Her mind shrieked at her as she felt her eyes grow round again, and flicked her gaze to his to check that she'd managed not to say any of that out loud.

'It looks like its just your ribs left!' She announced happily. 'Well, it would look like that if I could see your legs, which I cannot right now, but not for lack of trying... I mean- I'm not trying to look at your legs, but I need to, you know? To check them out, I mean, not to check them out in the American way, but to check that they're not as damaged as the rest of you!' She said, beginning to backtrack before grinning triumphantly when she brought it back.

'Oh my Merlin, not that you're damaged, you're not! Just your body is. Right now. I mean, no, I'm sure its a perfectly good specimen of a male body, if you're in to that, which I'm not, pssh!' Carys rambled on, trying not to look at him, before her entire body seized up in shock over what she'd just said.

'I mean I am into men, not women, I just mean that... What did I mean? Not that there's anything wrong with either way at all, I'm just-!' As she rambled, she cracked his knee back into place suddenly with no warning, and then continued. 'A little... I don't know, ignore me. Oh Merlin! Did you want pain relief? Did they give you pain relief?' She asked, horrified as the notion came to her whilst she squeezed his legs from his ankles upwards, leaning over the bed to check that everything was in order.

'You're not a very good patient, you know that? You should be lying there and crying out in pain or something so that I remember this isn't my imagination and you do in fact need pain potions if they've not given them to you... I think I remember you getting a pain potion in your chart, yes, okay, you're fine, they gave you one! Not that I've ever imagined something like this, of course!' She told him, realising there was another abnormal lump in his upper thigh.

'Looks like you damaged a muscle here. What on earth were you doing up there if you've got all these injuries!?' She asked, tilting her head and placing one hand on the side of his crotch where it met his thigh, and the other gripping underneath his thigh as she moved his leg to see how it was affected.

That's it, just keep talking and you'll be fine. Otherwise you'll die of embarrassment. She cautioned herself, staring at his leg for a moment longer before pointing at it. 'Do you think I could get you out of your trousers? I need to see your crotch.' Yeah, rambling on... Actually not the best idea you've ever had, Carys love.

One of the main reasons that he avoided St. Mungo’s to the extent that he did was because healers always wanted people to rest, and avoid strenuous activity, and a whole lot of shit that he knew he had to listen to, but that didn’t mean he bloody wanted to. He didn’t like even having a couple of days off of the pitch, and while part of him found it necessary to ignore those instructions—which he did do on occasion, he also didn’t want to risk any serious injury benching him for longer than that.

It was why he normally ended up doing what they said… but that wasn’t going to stop him from negotiating it to see just how overcautious they were being. Healers erred on the side of caution, and he didn’t, so there had to be a nice little middle ground that got him onto the pitch sooner.

From what he had gathered from this witch, she was most confident when she was doing her job, and seemingly only got flustered when she wasn’t actively healing him. He wondered how hard it would be to convince her that he didn’t need to take any time at all off of the pitch, and wagered that it might actually be rather difficult. If his coach heard that, then he undoubtedly would bench him next practice. While it might only be one practice, he still didn’t bloody want to miss it.

But at the witch’s next words—he realized he still didn’t have her name, Nathan groaned. “Oh, now you’re just messing with me,” he answered, a smirk on his lips. It wasn’t like he had a witch to shag every night… he didn’t date, and not every night spent out at clubs or bars resulted in him taking someone home. But the possibility was always there, and it was a damn shame to take that off of the table.

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t. He was pretty damn sure that if he went out that evening, or the next, and someone caught his eye, he wouldn’t let… whatever the hell had been wrong with him hold him back from making sure that a woman had a very good night. That would just be inconsiderate of him, at least in his opinion. “Twelve weeks,” he repeated, incredulously. He didn’t know much about the Muggle world, but twelve weeks just sounded bloody awful. That would put him past the start of the season, and that wasn’t even considering the fact that he’d miss so many practices that he’d probably be bloody replaced by a reserve at that point. Sounded bloody awful.

But he wasn’t in the Muggle world, and they had magic. Staying off the field was one thing—he could understand that… being injured and getting back on a broom only to get knocked the hell back out again potentially. It was better to be back at one hundred percent. But no one was going to shag him to death, or even to an injury—what were the odds of that? Pretty damn low, he’d say.

Or so he was going to continue to convince himself. He watched her closely as she moved to touch his arm, which was probably the injury causing him the most trouble at this point. It had been difficult enough to take his shirt off, but he just felt like he was used to pain to the extent that he could handle most any injury that he got at practice. It had been a sharp pain when he had come to, and he knew it didn’t look pretty… but now it was more like a dull ache… something easier to ignore, even though that was his most concerning injury, in his opinion. He needed his arm be all right, because that was his damn livelihood. If it got fucked, he would be screwed, so he was glad that she was sorting out that situation next. She seemed the slightest bit on edge, as he was watching her closely enough to see her steading herself with a breath and a passing grimace on her face.

Moments later, though, the injury was healing, and the dull sting of pain in his arm faded slowly away. Slow and steady, he thought, but he was quite glad for his luck in getting this particular healer. Not only was she immensely more attractive to look at than who he had been expecting, but her bing so easily flustered made her all the more endearing. It was definitely the best time he’d had at St. Mungo’s in quite a while. Nathan raised his eyebrows as she mentioned his legs, and then began to ramble. “Oh you think so, do you?” Nathan asked, when she had paused enough, seemingly in shock by what she had just said. He had never been told that he was a perfectly good specimen of a male body, but he’d been called worse things, he supposed.

The thought made his smile widen, and a chuckle rumbled through him as she started talking about how she wasn’t into women. Yes, he wasn’t sure any future St. Mungo’s visits would ever top this one. A brief, nearly imperceptible wince moved across his face as she set his knee with no warning, but his expression cleared probably before she would even notice it, particularly amidst her ramble. “They did, but I denied it.” He told her, which had been against their recommendations. He just didn’t like the feeling of that particular potion or spell—however the hell they did it, he scarcely remembered. He’d rather go without if he had the option, and luckily, they hadn’t pushed back too much on that front.

He couldn’t help but chuckle again as she spoke, before shrugging. “I thought my lack of dramatics made me a great patient,” Nathan said, with a smirk, as he cast her an amused look. “Of course, if you want me to start lying around and crying out, I’d be happy to start… might hurt my reputation a bit, but anything for you,” he added, a wink being sent her way, though the smirk never left his face. At this point, injuries were commonplace enough that he wasn’t all that affected by them, but he supposed he’d always had a decent pain tolerance, which came in handy in his line of work.

“Playing Quidditch,” Nathan answered, dryly, amusement still clear in his eyes. She probably meant more specifically, but he’d leave out the tale of his woes unless she pressed. After all, it wasn’t exactly his shining moment that he’d took a bludger to the head and kept playing, only to then pass out and fall from his broom. Bloody embarrassing, really. At the mention of another injury, though, he almost wanted to groan. If this kept him off of the pitch for longer, he was going to get frustrated. Not at her, of course, but at the situation in general. “Well if the lady requests to see my crotch, I must oblige.” He answered, solemnly, shifting enough to pull his athletic shorts off. With how flustered she had been just from him taking his shirt off, he’d be curious and amused to see if he’d witness another entertaining reaction.

Carys really wanted to tell him off for thinking that he could get around her quite so easily. She may currently be a little distracted by him, in fact, quite non-professional because of that, but when she insisted upon only two days of his cooperation in order to heal completely, she rather meant it.

'Mr Reynolds,' she began, shaking her head at him as she concentrated on his complicated wounds. 'I know that you're stubborn when it comes to your injuries, but you really can't go around letting sex ruin your career. If needs be, I will happily forgo my days off and stay by your side for the entire time, until I'm convinced you're healed enough, just as I do with the children and old people I treat.' She said, distractedly, before the realisation of what she had let slip came to her, and Carys thought she might die from embarrassment.

Carys somehow had the idea that two days spent entirely in Nathan's company might well send her so completely dizzy that she'd faint. Carys was not, of course, at all used to fainting, but she felt as if her lungs were constantly short of breath in the past few minutes, and if it went on for much longer, she might give in to the temptation to swoon once he'd well and truly left and she was able to go hide in a supply closet somewhere to squeal.

That was, added to the fact that she'd just suggested that she would stick to him like glue for the coming two days of recuperation he required, which was completely not what she'd meant at all, she was simply used to arguing about treatments with the very young, or the very old, with whom there would be a laugh as reaction and perhaps some pleasant company as she spent the time reading to them. Maybe there was such a thing as over exposure to handsome men?

'If I was messing with you, I would probably not be trying to get you to take your shorts off so that I can get a better look at your groin.' Oh no... Oh no... BRING IT BACK!! 'I mean... You know what I mean!' She said, waving a hand about, slightly annoyed at herself for being so unable to get her words out properly with him around. If she lost her job, it would be entirely the fault of her silly brain... And him.

Please don't make a joke about that. Please don't make a joke about that. Carys chanted in her mind, trying desperately to remember just what it was that she was meant to be doing at that moment. Oh yes, his groin. I was meant to be doing that. There was nothing for it, she needed to see it closer, and if that meant having to lean down to look at it, she'd have to.

'What do you mean you refused pain medication!?' Carys asked in shock, her eyes wide and her hands stilling completely as she felt horror seep through her, looking up from where she realised her head had begun to descend slightly, squinting at the region of the latest injury she'd found to treat. 'You can't sit through this sort of thing without anything to take the edge off! I just... I-I- Oh Merlin, I just reset so many bones! What if-what if- no!!' She complained, staring down into his eyes. 'No, you have to have something! I can't go down there without something to protect you! Its a very sensitive area, Mr Reynolds!'

She stared at him for all of two seconds before she wondered about asking him if he was serious, and then realising as she stifled a completely inappropriate bubble of laughter, that that would really not help the situation, especially as as a young girl, she used to joke about how Sirius was her middle name, having found the meaning of Sothis in a muggle book or another.

Instead, she shook her head at him as she dropped her hip to the side, the hand not currently on his thigh curling around her waist as she sighed in the face of his next quip.

'Look Nathan, I know you've been through a lot of injuries in your life, and if you still play half as well as you did at Hogwarts, then you're going to get a few more in your time, but you have to think of your health! Quidditch is not a good enough response. I had guessed it was the sport that had you in here and not one of your ex-flings actually following through with their threats in the girls' bathrooms.' Oh no, Oh no... You did it... Carys thought to herself as she turned to focus on his leg again, letting her hair slip down across her face in a vain attempt in hiding what he might well have already seen there. Not that she'd been one of his flings, she was much too plain and ugly for that, but that he might have had a chance to realise that she'd meant that they'd gone to Hogwarts together.

There was little chance he would recognise the awkward and limping girl from school as she was now, blonde and babbling, actually able to speak to him rather than just shutting down whenever she passed him, or most others for that fact, in the halls, but still she'd given a clue as to their close age. And the fact that they'd been there together... She could only hope that he'd been too wrapped up in himself and his friends that he hadn't noticed the shy Hufflepuff in the year below.

'Y-yes, your groin. I mean your crotch, I d-do need to see it, yes. Thank you for taking off your shorts.' She murmured after a moment, trying for the love of Merlin to concentrate on his body as that of a patient and not think about how she knew him. HE'S NEARLY NAKED! Her brain screamed at her, trying to cover its eyes, only for her to want to do the same... She was a Healer for Merlin's sake! Not a teenage girl who would blush scarlet and run away if she saw a boy's chest... Well, any more that was.

At least he's wearing underpants, which is more than can be said for half the older wizards you treat. She thought suddenly, recalling disgusting moments when she'd had to really hold on to the professionalism which was right now escaping her like... Well, it was really like trying to catch smoke in her bare hands or something. No, that's an awful suggestion. No one tries that. Seriously, who would even think of that being a good idea? It should be... I don't know, trying to catch a rainbow or something.

'Now, please tell me if I'm making you un... Erm... Uncomfortable at all...' Carys trailed off, trying to reconcile herself to where she'd need to prod. Taking a deep breath, still concealed by her long hair which was trailing slightly on his abdominal muscles, she pressed her hands to the point of his potential pulled muscle and pressed slightly. 'Does that hurt?' She whispered shakily. If she was wrong about this, she was never going to live it down. Please don't be awkward and get like that old wizard the other day who had a groin hernia. Please let everything stay in its rightful place. She silently begged him.

If it weren’t for the potential risk to his career, Nathan would never go to St. Mungo’s for any injuries. There just weren’t many that he deemed to be worth medical attention. Most would heal on their own, and he didn’t like to be fussed over or taken care of, really. He was fine with just letting it sort itself out. But he couldn’t risk that, in case he was wrong one time and it benched him either temporarily or permanently. It meant that he had to deal with medics at the pitch or the hospital on occasion, though it usually wasn’t nearly this entertaining. He flirted with whomever he came across—healer, nurse, women he’d actually shag, or older women that he just liked to make smile, it didn’t really matter. It put him in his element, and he enjoyed it. How could he not? He just bloody well loved women.

Of course, that meant that the idea of not shagging anyone wasn’t exactly ideal—even for two days. He supposed that was a little dramatic of him. He didn’t go out every night, didn’t shag a different woman every night of the week—that would be excessive, he supposed. But he had a good time, and he didn’t like the idea of purposefully not having that kind of good time, because a healer told him to. Unless they had a really good reason, but he found that healers were normally ultra-cautious and overdramatic when it came to what patients should or should not be doing after getting healed. That was his experience in the matter, at least. At her words about sex ruining his career, he sighed. That was one way of putting it to get him to listen, he supposed. He didn’t think any shag would really be worth ruining his career, even though that did still sound a bit dramatic.

Nathan supposed he could go a few days without going out entirely, and find something else to do with his time. His parents would probably fancy a visit, and he could use this time to visit them or his sister, he supposed. That would be the responsible thing to do, as opposed to still going out to bars and clubs and trying to stop himself from taking a bint home if he really wanted to. “You shouldn’t offer to be my private nurse unless you’re prepared to follow through, babe,” he replied, with a grin, unable to help himself. Ignoring the fact that she said she did that for children and the elderly, it sounded like a stellar plan to him. He had no doubt that she more than likely had no plans on making good on that particular offer, but he had to joke about it… how could he pass something like that up?

The only time that she truly seemed fully in control of what was going on was when she was actually doing the healing, he noted. She seemed to get flustered when she was just talking, and he still couldn’t deny that something about her seemed incredibly familiar to him, though he had no idea why. He was sure he would remember a face like hers. “Yes, I know what you mean,” Nathan added, chuckling. He didn’t see anything particularly wrong with her saying she needed to take a look at his groin, but her own words a bit too much… he wasn’t really fazed by any of them. But then again, it was very difficult to make him uncomfortable—even in this case, with her preparing to prod at who knows what, that required him to take his pants off.

She seemed to be surprised that he hadn’t taken any pain medication, but he didn’t like the potion or the spell… didn’t like how the feeling lingered, and he preferred to get by without it. His pain tolerance was decent, after all, and even if it wasn’t, he was sure that he disliked pain potions more than he disliked pain. In nearly every situation he’d been in that had proven to be the case. “Don’t really need it.” He answered, offhandedly, when she repeated his words. He refused it because they had asked not insisted… so it had been rather easy to convince them. Sometimes they didn’t like to give choices in the matter, if it was particularly serious, but he had been rather stubborn today in particular. “I’m sure I’ll be all right.” He added, when it seemed like she might start to insist as well. If he had made it through her setting bones and then like, he very much doubted he couldn’t handle whatever else she had to do.

It was true that this was one of the more interesting visits to St. Mungo’s that he’d had in a while—and was certainly taking a while. Whenever she was actually focusing on healing him, she was actually quite good… clearly knew what she was doing and didn’t have to fumble about. It was her rambling that was slowing down the visit, not that he particularly minded. He didn’t have anywhere to be, especially not if he decided he was going to actually do his part to relax and not bloody… injure himself more or something.

He raised his eyebrows at her words. Even though he’d been vaguely lost in thought, he still heard her clearly. The vague mention of Hogwarts, which was enough to set a match to flame as he made the connection. Hogwarts. That must be how he knew her. But still, he couldn’t immediately place her there. “Bludger to the head, lost consciousness, fell off my broom—is that specific enough for you, then?” He added, with a smirk, figuring he would let the Hogwarts thing go by, pretending he hadn’t noticed it just yet. Instead, he’d give her the answer she’d been looking for, even though it wasn’t as dauntless of a story as he would like.

Nathan hadn’t really realized that his fall had done this much damage, and he supposed it was good that he hadn’t just gone home, even though he didn’t like being fussed over. Better get it taken care of now so that he would be good for practice next week, as opposed to letting it go and potentially having worse happen. “I’ll be sure to,” he replied, his voice solemn, but a smirk was still clear on his face. The healer pressed down and he winced slightly without realizing he’d done it. Interesting—he hadn’t truly realized that he’d had any kind of injury near that particular… region. “Bit.” He told her, simply because there wasn’t much use denying it.