"Sure," she said. "First things first." She sat down in the other chair and laid her hand on his leg, his ankle and then his foot, in that order, assessing. "It's doing very well," she said, "for as bad as it was broken. It's coming along well. Most of what you're feeling is muscle and nerve damage. It will heal. It is a very good thing you were not a muggle. This sort of damage would have taken months, and probably repeated surgeries to heal and even then probably would never have been right. Muggles can be so brutal for the sake of health."
She waved her hand, and a bottle of healing potion floated over from the shelf. "If that does not last you a week, I need to know," she waved it over to him, "That means we need to look again. And,..." she stood up and picked up a little golden plastic card.
"Here," she gave it to him. "I just added a full physical therapy unit and gym to St. Mungos. You're going to need the stretching to limber up those muscles. It'll probably feel good. Besides, if nothing else, the hot tub is worth the trip. Start using the gym to get back into fighting form. It will reduce your stiffness."
"Grandkids, huh?" she laughed, "At your age? That's just wrong. I'm still working on the first generation. At this rate, I'll be 90 before I see grandkids. Tell me about them. I've never heard you mention them before. Did Rob tell you, he's already named this one, and she's not even here yet. Not til August. Abbey. I have no idea where he got that. But he'd determined she's Abbey. And he's got us all calling her Abbey now. I have a feeling she's going to be completely spoiled before she gets here."