"Your cousin, shockingly enough, is a very attentive nurse and makes a mean cup of tea, but please don't tell him I made him sound down-right sweet and domestic or he'll likely skin me and make a Moony rug."
"As for the Auror thing," he said, furrowing his brow and scowling. "It was a major sore spot during sixth year when we were picking NEWTS. I took the subjects to qualify even though I knew I'd never get it. I'm sure my application got tossed in the rubbish. Some other people got confirmation letters and rejection letters but I never got any response. But what can you do? I don't think I'd be very happy as an Auror anyway...too much standing around guarding stuff while waiting for occasional spurts of dueling...not my cup of tea. All action all the time or nothing at all, thanks."
"St. Mungo's is a tough place," he continued. "It depends on the healer you get and the type of injury. I've only been three times other than right after I was bitten; twice when I younger and once during the first War...that was the blood infection."
He patted himself on the back.
"Despite being scrawny, this body's pretty damn efficient. It can endure a hell of a lot. I generally just take healing potions and sleep it off. There's a lot of bitching and moaning about feeling like shite if Sirius is around to be an audience, but mostly I lie still and let my body fix itself. It heals quite well, abet a little messily."
He pushed up a shirt sleeve, flashing a long white scar snaking up his arm. He stretched and cracked his neck, reaching for some more tea.
"Enough about my lunar wanderings," he said. "Unless there's more you want to know, then I'm happy to educate. Otherwise, fill me in on what you know about James."