"Listen, you little slag, my arm is going to come off! I need a real medi-wizard to look at this."

Ginny felt her face go cold. "I assure you, Mrs. Figgle, that I am quite capable of rubbing a little burn ointment on your arm."

"I need a man to do this!"

She smiled. "I'm sure you do, but seeing as they all ran away in fear at the mention of your name, I suppose you'll have to make due with me, yeah?" Ginny let a small tendril of righteous revenge curl in her stomach at the look on Mrs. Figgle's face. "Now if you'll just let me-"

"Just give it to me. I'll do it."

Ginny rose an eyebrow when the woman pulled the small jar of burn cream from her hands. "Fine. Knock yourself out. I'll have your discharge papers and prescription at the front desk. Have a good evening, Ma'am." She turned, her face falling from its plastered on smile to a glare. Fucking stupid old bags with their stupid old bags. She pulled the next chart from the queue, her eyes darting quickly across the information. "Mr. Goldstein?"

At the sound of his name Anthony looked up. A familiar looking girl was reading his chart. 'Well, she's a Weasley, but beyond that...' "I'm Anthony." he said as he rose of his chair in the waiting area.

Blinking, Ginny smiled. "I remember you. You were in the DA, yeah?" She motioned for him to follow her, pulling his chart close to her chest. "I'm Ginny. Weasley. Obviously." She smiled again as they walked down the hall. "Looks like you hurt your hand?" She pushed open the door to one of the simpler exam rooms, the one you used when you were fairly sure blood wouldn't be flying around the room. She held the door open with a smile, "go ahead and have a seat." 

"Yeah, the DA, but briefly." 'Great. Small talk. Like I need this-wait. Would it BE so bad if you had a couple friends, Anthony? Look at her, it's not like she could do you great harm.' Deciding to start over he said, "yeah, uh, I hurt my hand on the job. I'm an Obliviator for the Ministry. Someone got a little rough." He followed her into the room and sat down. "So uh," he thought quickly of something to contribute, "how'd you get into healing?"

"Guess I'd been doing it for a while. Thought I might as well get paid for it." You know, for as much as they pay and appreciate me here. She marked a few things down on the chart before sitting in the chair across from him. She leaned forward, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards her gently. "You say you did this at work? Obliviator? That sounds exciting."

"Yeah, I get all the rougher assignments. Usually don't get hurt though. She got lucky." He smiled at her as she took his hand. "It's not all that exciting, my job. It pays the bills." Anthony actually loved it, but no one need know that. "What have you been up to since Hogwarts? Seen any one from," he struggled a bit recalling the group they belonged to, "the DA lately?"

"Well, Harry. I saw him last week." She studied the bruising. There was a few tears in the skin, like he'd maybe gotten her on the teeth, ripping into his knuckles. "I see Hermione every once in a while." She winced when she pressed against his hand, causing him to hiss a little bit. "Sorry." 

He let out a hiss as she pressed into his hand. "S'all right. I knew what I'd be in for when I came in. Hazards of the job, I guess." He'd forgotten all about 'The Boy Who Lived' er... 'Twice'. 'Losing a sister would do that I suppose.' He gave a little half smile at this. Hermione Granger, too. She was the Gryffindor who was ahead of him in marks six out of seven years at Hogwarts. It was weird for him to remember all these people from the past, almost seemed like it was another life. "What are they doing now?" he asked genuinely interested. It had been awhile since he had given thought to any of this. 

"Harry'll be a full Auror soon." She cast a spell to look at his bones, looking for any broken ones. "Hermione's doing something with... actually, I kind of tune her out when she talks about her job. There's things with beakers and microscopes and to be honest, I never did well in potions to begin with. She has another job at Flourish and Blotts though." She reached behind her and grabbed a salve that would help with the bruising. "Ron's with the Cannons. Quidditch. Everyone else is... around." She narrowed her eyes, focusing on the charm.

"It looks like you probably have a few hairline fractures in your metacarpals." She looked up and smiled. "Those are your knuckles." She cocked her head to the side. "I'd suggest not hitting anyone, to begin with. I can cast a few pain charms, but with the bones they're in, it'll be hard to really heal them. Unless you'd like Skele-gro. Somehow, I don't suggest us giving you Skele-gro unless it's needed."

"Actually, I was thinking whatever was faster. I need to be in fighting condition for every one of my Obliviator appointments. You know, just in case." He was actually thinking of this weekend. He would definitely need his hand fixed by then for what he had planned. "I'm sure I can manage the Skele-gro," he said with another smile. He'd never had it, but how bad could it be?

Ginny shook her head and spun in the seat, smirking to herself. "Alright..." She pushed herself across the floor, rolling across to the cabinets. "You'll only need a small dose, but it really, really doesn't taste that well. I suggest very limited movement of your hand. It'll help heal if it's still. There are stasis charms you can use. I can send home some literature with you." She grabbed the bottle and turned, rolling back towards him.

She held it out, eyebrow raised. "I'd drink it all at once. If you hesitate, it only makes it worse."

"Okay, sure. Limited movement." He took the bottle from her and took the cork out of the top. Bracing himself because of all her warnings, he tossed back the shot-like substance. Swallowing quickly, he made a face. That was definitely something he never wanted to do again. He felt the pain in his hand lessen. "You were right, stuff's awful. It's working though." He handed the bottle back to her. "How long will this take to heal?"

"The bone? A little less than a week. The bruising? That I can heal now." She grabbed the small jar of Bert's Bruising Balm and took out a liberal portion. "I can send this bottle home with you. You'll need to rub it in three times a day." She pulled his hand towards her and spread it along his knuckles, being careful not to press too hard.

He nodded. "Good, thanks." He really didn't mind her. 'Hmmm, weird. Wonder how she's different from everyone else?' Sensing that they were about finished, he said, "So, you planning on staying at Mungo's? I might look you up if I have anymore injuries." 

"Actually, I think you might be my last patient. I've had it about here with St. Mungo's, actually." She shrugged at his look. "I've got some other stuff lined up. You're perfectly fine coming here." She stood. "You can take the balm with you."

"I actually dislike this place as well. Can't seem to find someplace less... crowded. That's a shame you won't be here any longer though. I mostly get some prat of a healer trying to chat me up. But, hey. Good on you that you're going with something else." He felt a little dissapointed that he wouldn't see her again. 'Great. I'm actually having a civil conversation with someone from school and it's all for nothing. That'll show me, trying to make social contacts.'

She sighed. It was horrible, telling people about Healing Hands before they even had Healing Hands. She shifted on her feet. "Actually... I'll be opening up my own place. Not sure where. Not sure when. Soon. Hopefully. Maybe." She dropped her hands to her sides. "I'll be putting an advert out eventually. Once we find someplace to open it." She laughed nervously. "So, if you'd rather not be hit on by an old medi-witch with bad breath, you could try and fine me again."

"I might take you up on that. We'll see though, as it depends on when, or if, I need healing again." He nodded at her a bit awkwardly. He was never good at these conversations. "Well, if I'm all done..."

Ginny grabbed his chart and nodded. "Yeah. We're good. I'll walk you to the front, make sure you don't get attacked by a crazed Gilderoy Lockhart. He tends to roam the halls here." She walked over and pulled open the door.

He walked out the door and towards the lift. 'Gilderoy Lockhart. Yet another name he hadn't thought of in quite some time.' "Thanks." He smiled as he turned to look at her. "Hope everything turns out well for your new place. Might see you sometime.''

Smiling, Ginny nodded. "Yeah. Hopefully."