Who: Eric Bastien, Rufus Fudge When: Wednesday evening. Where: Mungo's. What: Scene Lottery! Eric needs a healer. Rating: TBD, probably low. Open/Closed: Closed
Eric was a little chagrined to have ended up here. Injuries were common in Quidditch, but usually if he'd had one, the team's Healers and specialists would see to it. He and one of the other players had stayed late to work on a play though, which meant they were alone when Eric misjudged the space between him and a hoop and ended up crashing into it. He didn't like making mistakes, but it happened.
He'd been hurt often enough to know when his arm was broken. It wasn't anything a Healer would have difficulty taking care of readily, but given how close they were to the season, Eric decided he likely shouldn't take a pain potion and wait until morning, either. So he let his teammate take him off to Mungo's, and then shooed him off with assurances that Eric was fine and he needn't hover. (None of them knew Eric well yet, so it hadn't taken much convincing to get him to leave, either, which was fine by him.)
In France, he'd likely have been recognized in a wizarding hospital. Here he hadn't been, and Eric didn't really mind that. It was nice to be in pain and not have to be polite to fans at the same time, he could just sit in the waiting area with his arm held carefully in front of him and keep to himself. Though he wouldn't have minded not having to wait quite so long, either.
Finally someone ushered him back to a room and he sat on the cold table, waiting for the Mediwitch or wizard.