DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or anything relating to it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, her publisher, Warner Brothers etc. There is no money being made and is purely for enjoyment.

Chapter 1:

The last thing that Oliver Wood remembered was sitting on his broomstick, practicing with the rest of the Puddlemere United team, when a bludger came straight his way. From what he gathered from the rest of the team, as he couldn't remember a thing, it hit him and he had plummeted to the ground. This of course resulted in Oliver becoming unconscious and taking a trip to the St. Mungo's Artefact Injuries ward. Shortly after arriving he had woken up. "I'm so sorry Oliver, really I meant to hit it left," a man with blonde curly hair and green eyes looked at him. His eyes filled with sorrow, Evan kept muttering apologies. Oliver by this time had tired of telling Evan, who was a beater, that it wasn't really his fault and everything would be ok. Even though his head was spinning faster then a tilt-a-whirl he still thought of Quidditch. He knew of course that Evan didn't mean too hit that bludger his way. Evan was a good beater, he just needed some experience.. and perhaps a good pair of eye glasses.

About five minutes after Oliver had woken up the rest of the team had been shoved out of the ward by a mumbling, motherly looking witch. The only one she allowed to stay was Evan; and this was only because he was Oliver's roommate and he had begged her relentlessly. "I'm sorry my dears, but we are busy and understaffed. A Medi-wizard should be here shortly," the plump witch said sympathetically and she patted Olivers arm before disappearing.

"Bit odd that one eh?" Evan smirked, raising one eyebrow, "So any bets on which Medi-wizard we will get today?"

Oliver snorted, as he tried to detain his laughter. A wizard in the bed next to him who had a somehow grown an extra limb glared at the two and promptly pulled the curtain back. Evan and Oliver had been to the hospital dozens of times between them and had a tradition of betting on which wizard or witch would be healing them that day. "It'll be that old git, Prollegum. He'll spend more time ranting and raving about how dangerous Quidditch is then healing me," Oliver remarked as he sat up. Instantly he wished he hadn't as his head swirled even faster.

Evan gave a heartily laugh, not caring what the rest of the ward thought. "Well do hope they hurry up, I'm starved."

"Leave it to you to think of your stomach at a time like this," Oliver said in a mock hurt tone.

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Airlia Smith walked briskly down the stairs from second floor, which was Magical Bugs, to the ground floor. They apparently were short staffed and Airlia was summoned down to help out. There was never any shortage of wizards who had blown themselves up or been hit by some shrapnel of a blown up object but today seemed especially busy. She briskly approached the welcome station to find out what ward she was needed in.

"Afternoon Airlia, there's a Quidditch player that just came in. You might want to go help them out," an elderly witch, who was plump and graying, said smiling.

"Mrs. Willington I still can not believe that anyone would subject themselves to such a violent game. I am starting to consider refusing to tend to them," Airlia replied as she haphazardly pulled her hair back into a bun.

Mrs. Willington chuckled. "Now you remember the Medi-Witch code young lady," the elder witch said as she leaned closer as if to tell a secret, "And if you don't mind me saying so he's quite a looker."

Airlia gave an irritated sigh and began to walk down the corridor. Airlia Smith did not, no matter how cute they were, have time for boys. Ever since graduating from Hogwarts she had done nothing but work, a trait she supposed was the reason she was put in Ravenclaw. Only last month she had gained her medi-witch certification and no matter who was her patient she was determined to act like a professional. Reaching her assigned ward she pulled back the curtain that was surrounding her new patient.

Without looking up Airlia grabbed the clipboard at the end of the bed and began reading the supplied information. "Well, Oliver Wood is it? It looks like you'll be out of here in an hour tops." At this moment she looked up and herself looking one of the finest species of man she had ever seen. It was at this moment that she realized why Quidditch players had a tendency to be popular with the ladies. "Bloody hell, Mrs. Willington wasn't kidding," she thought.

Oliver was taken by surprise when the young witch burst into his curtained off area and began reading his chart. Upon getting over the surprise he noticed that she was a girl and suddenly the flimsy hospital gown felt a tad small and revealing. Pulling the paper gown as far as it would stretch he still wasn't happy with the coverage and pulled the blankets up to his chin. Evan continued to just sit there, totally oblivious to his friends awkwardness or even the fact that another person had joined their ranks. Instead he was peaking around the curtain, trying to get another glance at the three armed wizard next to them.