Theodore always made a habit of asking after people's health; it was more than just a casual inquiry. Especially where people he cared about were concerned, though he didn't give his friends any extra treatment, except that they could call on him in a way that most people didn't.
Except for people like Duke, whose celebrity status probably made him used to asking people for what might be considered special treatment. Theodore would have offered it to anyone that asked, though, within the realm of possibility.
Where his father's health was concerned, however, he definitely had a vested interest. Yes, his father was aging, but if there was one thing he could do for his father, it was help him age comfortably. What use were his skills, if not for that?
"I'm also well, thank you," he said, his smile still small and polite, but genuine. "I've been considering leaving St. Mungo's earlier than planned - not because I find it unsatisfactory, but because I'm beginning to feel that I've learned as much as I can from the Healers there. I don't see any reason to stay when I'd rather be able to have a real practice, my own regular patients - though I do try to take care of some people, regularly. If there's anything you need..."
He let that trail off. He didn't know how comfortable his father felt asking him for help, since every time they talked about healing, there was the hippogriff in the room: his mother's health. Especially this time of year. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't carry on when there's dinner waiting."