who: Oliver and Verity Wood when: lunchtime, 2 March 2004 where: Glasgow, Scotland what: Oliver and Verity begin to confront the pink elephaunt.
Physical therapy was progressing, more or less, just as it should have been; very little movement and a whopping amount of heat, ice and pain. Due to the cursed blade and its cause-effect on magical healing, Oliver had opted to go fully with muggle treatments, from stitches and morphine to physical therapy with actual blocks of ice rather than potions and spells. If he was going to be forced do this the way of his non-magical ancestors, he wasn't going to shy away because of a bit of pain. The only set-back had been Verity's disappearance and sudden reappearance on the family's doorstep five days ago.
Not only had Oliver missed several therapy sessions during the kidnapping with his new muggle physician (Oliver had sought an actual doctor's office after Puddlemere United's medical disclosure to the Prophet against his consult), but he'd over exerted himself picking Verity up to carry her inside. Punching the walls of his office after she'd fallen asleep hadn't exactly been helpful either, and had left more than few unexplainable bruises on his knuckles.
Luckily, the extra damage didn't appear to be long-lasting nor serious, and Oliver was only a few days off his scheduled return to training: April 7th, exactly three months after the initial stabbing. It was still uncertain whether playing professional Quidditch again would be an option, but Oliver and Puddlemere's physical trainer maintained more than a little hope that by mid-season, he'd be back on the pitch. The true test would be convincing share holders and Puddlemere's owner that Oliver Wood was still a good investment.
So it was around noontime that Oliver returned home through the front door, a large ice pack taped over his shoulder and a bottle of water in hand. Walking down along the High Street and back for his therapy sessions was about all the non-medical exercise he was allowed, and Oliver loved every moment of it. He had been cooped up in the house for far too long.