Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. I)

Healing Hands (Oliver Wood)

In which I show off how little I know about physiotherapy ...

This isn't my best and it isn't my worst but I just needed to get something out there after such a long hiatus. Hopefully the next one will be much better ~

Walking away hadn't been easy. It had been anything but easy – still, it was the choice I had made. And it was one that I would stick to.

Once the battle of Hogwarts had ended and I had seen over everyone that I needed to, I had decided that I was done with the Wizarding world. I had witnessed the destruction that a simple spell could cause when paired with a wand and I had decided that I wanted none of it. Merlin, I had watched as far too many of the people I loved fell after a single curse hit them. It was unbearable, simply enough to turn the stomach to the extent that I was ready to hand my wand in to the Ministry. The world that had opened so much wonder for me, that had explained how I was able to do things that my parents simply couldn't, had become corrupted over the space of a year, and I was ready to call it quits.

The Ministry of Magic, however, disagreed.

The wizarding population was of such a low number after the battle, that they were reluctant to let anyone completely turn their back to magic. A ruling had been passed that anyone wishing to turn their back to the wizarding world was required to go a full five years without using any form of magic before their wish to hand in their wand could be considered. Even then it was up to debate.

All the books I'd consulted had said that having your magic bound and stripped was the most painful thing and even now, almost four and a half years after that fateful night, I was struggling against the temptation. Of course, I hadn't stepped foot in the wizarding parts of England since I had left but the temptation to reach for my wand that was hidden in my flat was almost irresistible. I could cast a simple Accio and the counter would be reset again to 0. But I had more resolve than that. I would have to have more restraint. 

One of the compromises that I had made with the Ministry involved working in tandem with the department of St Mungo's that focused on helping people recover after a physical injury had restricted their use of their body. The Wizarding world, for all its ego, had recently been forced to admit that sometimes Muggle treatments were superior to magical treatments that were available. One such being physiotherapy, something I specialised in.

It had taken one medical paper for Wizards and Witches to begin to realise that even after bone and muscle was magically grown and healed, they would need to work to regain their previous control. They were a little surprised that after healing muscles, an individual needed to work those said muscles in order to be able to regain their usual range of movement without pain. Sometimes I thought that Wizards believed that magic was capable of solving every single problem they faced. If that were true, there would be no laws of what magic could and couldn't do.

I escorted one of my patients out of my office and returned to find one of St Mungo's messenger owls perched on the edge of my desk. Casting a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure that no muggles had spied that appearance of the bird, I shut the door behind me just be sure. Approaching the owl, I reached into the top drawer and drew out a small jar of owl treats. Shaking some out onto my hand, I extended my palm towards the owl. Satisfied by the offering, the owl dropped the letter. It ate out of my hand until the snacks were all finished and then it settled itself comfortably where it was standing; it wasn't going to leave without an answer. 

Picking up the envelope, I broke the wax seal at the back and unfolded the parchment that was inside. Leaning back against the desk and propping myself against it, I read over the pretty standard form; it was to announce that yet another magical patient had been referred to me for a standard course of physiotherapy. Making a mental note to ensure that the patient, whose name hasn't been added to the form – which was utterly ridiculous – signed the security clauses and the protocol about secrecy when it came to magic , I prepared to pen a response back.