3 YEARS LATER

Over time, as the number of Wizards and Witches that knew of and preferred physiotherapy to their usual forms of treatment increased, I was forced to open up my own office. There was only so much interference that I could have run in order to stop the muggles surrounding me from discovering that I was a Witch. Really, it was like Oliver suggested; it was just easier for me to open up an office in the middle of Wizarding Britain.

Honestly, I thought that he just wanted to make sure that I was closer to him so he could drop by whenever he wanted. But, when my livelihood was at stake, I had to admit that it made sense. Even if I was only just getting the hang of once again reintegrating myself into the Wizarding world. At least this way I could once again use magic to ease the amount of writing I needed to do. How have I gone so long without using it? Either way, I was right; magic made people lazy.

Seeing one of my client's out the door, I took a moment to sit at my desk and spoke aloud for the quill to begin writing on its own. Finally reaching the end, I took the quill in my hand and signed the notes off. Reaching into my pocket and drawing out my wand, I made a copy of the notes to be sent off to St Mungo's with the rest at the end of the day. By the time I had tended to it all, there was another knock on the door; my next client was here.

"Come in," I called out, rising to my feet. Already knowing who it was, I knew that he preferred to begin the treatment right away.

Potter walked into the room, shrugging out of the outer layers of his robes with a smile. He hung them on the cloak rack in the corner and then gestured to himself, asking, "How do you want me?"

"Lie on the table, on your front," I said with a smile, gesturing towards the table, "I'll be there in a minute. How are you feeling?"

"A lot better," he admitted, approaching the padded table and lying down. He crossed his arms, using them to prop his chin up. "I think I'll be able to attend the next set of training exercises."

"Those bleeding training exercises," I murmured slowly, as I began to methodically, slowly stretch the muscles of his back. "I swear I see more Aurors and trainee Aurors than I do anyone else. What in Merlin's name do they do to you?"

"Stuff that you and Healers wouldn't approve of," he confessed with a laugh, eyes closing for a moment when I found a particularly sore spot.

"Helga, Potter," I murmured, working at the spot. "You really should ease off for a little while longer."

"I can't," he said instantly, sitting up when I gestured that I was done. He straightened up his shirt, rolling his shoulders to check the strain and smiling gratefully at me. "I'm too busy."

"Don't make me write to the Head of the Auror Department," I warned, retreating to my desk and preparing a note for him to hand off to the trainers. He followed after me, waiting patiently for me to finish, "At least make it easier. If you come in next week and you're in a worse state, then I really will write to them, Potter. Don't try me."

"I wouldn't dare," he insisted with a laugh, accepting the note from me.

He walked back to the cloak rack, slowly slipping into the burdensome outer layers one by one. As he slipped the note into his pocket, I approached the door when someone knocked on the other side. Oliver greeted me from the other side with a warm smile.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, stepping out of the way to let Potter out.

The younger man gave me a wave on his way out, and I returned it before looking back to Oliver. Oliver, who was staring after the Auror with eyes that told me exactly what he was thinking.

"Oliver," I chastised once he'd walked into the room. "Why are you looking at him like that?"

"Why are most of your clients men?" he grumbled under his breath, shutting the door behind him and approaching me, even as I rolled my eyes, "And Aurors, at that?"

"Stop being annoying." Oliver trailed after me, scowling for only a moment longer before he gave up the pretence. "I can't exactly help who comes to see me, can I?"

"I just needed something to complain about," he admitted with a sigh, collapsing into the chair across from mine. He dropped his head, eyes closing as I ran my hand through his hair.

"You've had a rough day?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." He opened his eyes, peering up at me with a small frown but allowing me to soothe him, nonetheless.

"Want to tell me all about it?"