"Hagrid."
"That is all the explanation I need," Draco huffed.
Harry perked up. Suddenly, everything seemed funny, again. "Neville didn't even know our trip into an Acromantula nest. Thousands of giant spiders that were bigger than a Corsa all wanting to eat us."
"Acromantulas?" Joel whispered, looking a bit pale.
Draco sighed. "Hagrid, again, presume?"
"Yeah... he certainly made things interesting."
"And he actually smuggled a dragon into Hogwarts?" Joel asked, amazed at Hagrid's boldness.
"Yep. Got it from... umm... Voldemort, actually," Harry muttered, unsure if the Dark Lord was a safe topic for Draco.
"Oh... umm..." Joel trailed off, torn between wanting to know and where the line was, too. 
"How?" Draco prompted, unphased.
"Well... Hagrid knew how to get past the three-headed dog, and Voldemort brought him a dragon egg, and mead... and then got him to talk about Fluffy."
"Fluffy?" Joel repeated, and even Draco stared at him like he was crazy. 
Harry smirked. "I'm not lying. Ask Ron or Hermione."
"Oh... I believe you. Crazy-ass shit always happens around you, Pottah," Draco chuckled. 
"Shut up. Alright... it's time for my appointments. Now, you behave. No wheelies or racing down the hallway."
"What's a wheelie?" Draco asked, and Harry sighed, but left without answering. Joel would surely answer it for him.
He went down the hall to his first "official" appointment. Nothing too difficult, just a torn shoulder. His next one was a hip displacement, then some crushed ribs, but his last was a new patient referred from a healer he hadn't heard of. He walked into the room, and a younger guy, in his twenties, was holding his knee.
"What seems to be the problem, Mr. Wortchuck?"
"My knee keeps popping in and out," he said, and then demonstrated it, without a hint of pain or concern. 
However, the guy was also staring intently at Harry. He was probably interested in him because of the recent Prophet stories. Harry tried not to let it get to him, and focus on the knee issue, if it could be called that. Most of his clients were older or at least referred up from emergency. A trick knee wasn't common in a twenty-something-year-old as healers could fix that with a wand wave. Harry checked the scan that was submitted with the referral. It didn't match what his wandless checks were telling him. Something was off, as Mr. Wortchuck's knee wasn't working right, but it wasn't physically damaged, which is all he cared about.
"Mr. Wortchuck... I don't think it's a muscular issue. I think it's just a hex," Harry surmised, not even needing to touch it to verify.
"Oh, are you sure?" the guy gushed, putting an accent on the last word. The guy was still looking at him abashed.
Harry felt tingles go down his spine. He had never felt this uncomfortable during a patient exam before, but the guy was staring at him – really staring at him. Almost like he was undressing him with his eyes. Harry just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.
"I-I'm going to refer you to Spell Damage. They should sort the hex out in no time," Harry said, backing toward the door as the shaking started in.
But the guy had jumped down off the examination bed with ease, and taken a step toward him before he could escape. He didn't want to turn his back on him to open the door to run.