28 Februrary 1891— Hogsmeade Hospital Atrium

Tilda MacFusty was not lacking in times when she thought that she might be the only one to have the brains amongst her siblings, however, it was rare that these thoughts stemmed from the desire to clobber them about their heads until sense was knocked into them. Today was one such occasion. She wasn't one to impulsively pick up a copy of Witch Weekly, but it was the whispers of her brother's name and stares she'd attracted this morning that caused a seed of dread to harvest rapidly in the pit of her stomach and motivated her to hasten down to the newspaper stand to pick up a copy on her lunch break.

The first bad sign was her brother's face on the cover. Coupled with a woman she didn't know and another older woman who looked familiar, this couldn't be good. Sitting on a nearby bench, Tilda began reading. The further and further she read, the more her vision began to tinge. By the end of each word, she could feel her cheeks reddening.

Shaking, the magazine crumpled in her hand as she bunched it into a ball and stood up. If she'd been paying any sort of attention, the witch would have been able to see passers-by steal probing glances at her. Stupid, stupid, stupid. If she wanted to knock some sense into Lachlan beforehand, now, he would be lucky if she didn't use him for target practice when she got home.

It was all she could to do not floo to his house on her lunch break, but she had a feeling she may regret whatever actions she'd resort to if she went now. Whilst fantasizing about transfiguring her brother into the contents of a matchbox, Tilda yanked the hospital entrance doors open. Her anger manifested in more strength than she thought she had and the door flew from her hand, straight towards a familiar figure rounding the corner.

  

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Eugene had been tasked with heading to the hospital in Hogsmeade to check on a colleague who had been attacked during a ministry-related call the other day. Somebody needed to fill out the paperwork to cover the problem as his co-worker was no unable to handle the situation, which mean it had been passed on to Eugene. He was more than happy to take over, but there hadn't been anything filed on the incident and so he'd trekked to the hospital to get some information out of the other guy.

Once he had everything he needed there, he was off to the family in question for their side of the story. It was a weird one for sure, illegal breeding, he suspected, but who knew. People ended up with animals they shouldn't all of the time. He wasn't sure, but it happened more often than he cared to admit.

Regardless he was in a bit of a hurry to make the appointed meeting time when he rounded a corner near the atrium on his way out when he was knocked flat on his ass by a flying... door it turned out to be. It had collided with his nose most of all and he'd looked up just then to make sure he was headed in the right direction. Blood dripped in spades down his front and onto the floor, splattering his paperwork. "Fuck," He swore under his breath, trying to find his handkerchief so he could somehow stop the blood flow.

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"Mr. Scamander!!" She'd seen him before the door hit him, but there was nothing stopping the door's trajetory once it had escaped from her grasp. All that was availale for her to do was watch as papers flew everywhere. Tilda emitted a yelp of surprise and a squeak of mortification as Mr. Scamander was thrown to the ground. "Oh merlin, I'm so sorry!" she exclamed, her previous anger all but forgotten as she rushed to his side to help.

The sight of his blood paled her complexion, and her expression was slightly agonized as she saw the results of her carelessness. Luckily her healer training kicked in soon enough to reach into the folds of her cloak and pull out a spare kerchief. She reached out to press the bit of cloth firmly to his nose. "I'm so sorry, I am so so sorry, Mr. Scamander." It was all she could say and her usually steady hands shook slightly as she attempted to help him.

  

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Eugene was admittedly seeing stars, though recognized the voice behind the fretting aimed toward him almost instantly. "My fault," He mumbled, sounding ridiculous as his nose poured blood. The addition of the handkerchief helped, and he was able to stem the flow, but he still sounded like he was underwater or severely congested.

"Wasn't looking where I was going." He was amused, as always, that the two of them could not run into one another figuratively instead of literally. "I don't suppose you have an open room for me?" He sighed as his vision finally cleared and what he knew would be one hell of a headache was starting to creep in, right between his eyebrows. Eugene would be shocked if his nose wasn't broken... again.

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No, no, no this was all her fault. Tilda shook her head, her loose curls quivvering as she did so. Tears of embarrassment pricked her eyes, but she willed herself to keep calm. At worst it was a broken nose, but it didn't change the fact that she felt she might burst into flames if she blushed any more.

At his request she nodded wordlessly, rushing to get the door for him. She managed to succeed without leveling him. "Yes, yes, of course!" she replied weakly, recalling her schedule. She had about 20 minutes before she had to start rotations, which should be just enough time to mend poor Mr. Scamander.

  

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Eugene managed to make his way to his feet, only swaying a little, which was good, because it would have certainly been some kind of embarrassing if he fell back over thanks to his swimming vision after standing. "I must admit I'm a little fuzzy," He caught sight of Miss MacFusty thanks to her beautiful red hair, but the rest of his field of vision was a little blurry once more.

"We have to stop meeting this way," He chuckled good naturedly as he shuffled in her general direction. Hopefully he didn't have far to go. Tripping or Merlin forbid, needing a wheelchair would only add insult to injury at this point. Eugene was starting to think he'd have to pay purposeful calls on Miss MacFusty if this was how their run-ins were going to keep happening. At least she could patch him up when she broke him? That was a perk.

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Of course his vision was fuzzy, Tilda thought, nodding understandingly. She'd just given him a bloody nose in addition to a broken one. Why in Merlin's name did she have to throw the cursed door open so hard?

Tilda smiled weakly at his attempt to lighten the mood, and she laughed, though there was a hint of stress in her response. "I couldn't agree more, Mr. Scamander," she managed to get out as she led him through the ward. Once in a free stall, Tilda moved to place both her hands on either of his shoulders to guide him onto the table, her expression still visibly distressed at how much blood was pouring from his nose. She swallowed, doing her best to coax her panic down. It would do neither of them any good if she was no use as a healer and couldn't do her job.

As she left him to get ahold of his bearings, Tilda flitted around the stall, gathering up and handing him more gauze for his nose, bruise ointment, some dittany for excess scuffs that might have been left by the oak door as well....was that all? She turned back to him, taking him in for the first time since they'd gotten in the stall. Her expression fell slightly. "Oh dear, I think there's blood on your shirt too."

  

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Relieved for both the guidance and the chance to sit down again, Eugene left himself in Miss MacFusty's very capable hands.

Wincing slightly as more material was pressed to his nose, Eugene was reminded of the last time he gotten a broken nose. "Not the first time and probably won't be the last. In fact I think this is break number three. As for the shirt, that is a normal occurrence. The maids are well-versed in getting those stains out." Simply thanks to the nature of his job. He didn't want her to feel too guilty about the whole ordeal, he was kind of used to it by now.

"I must confess, I may have to start paying calls to further avoid these mishaps." Eugene half-teased, looking at her over everything pressed against his face with raised eyebrows. "I fear we cannot leave it to the fates any longer." Truly though, he wouldn't mind seeing more of her, under better circumstances.

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His response left Tilda wondering vaguely how often he acquired his various injuries. He was in the beast division so it wasn't entirely a large leap in assumptions. But then she did feel for his household staff; having had to remove blood stains from her own family's clothing after deals with dragons, it was easy to imagine how often Mr. Scamander came home with torn or ruined clothes.

Tilda absently pressed a hand to her cheek as she realized it was slightly flushed. Probably just residual embarrassment from earlier this morning, but she busied her hands to avoid thinking what the feeling really was.

"Well, I presume you might have to make an appointment with the Welcome Witch if you'd like to return, though for wha —" Tilda stopped mid-sentence as she caught onto his meaning a tad too late and almost dropped the dittany bottle in her hand. "Uh - what I mean to say is!" She hastily corrected herself, her cheeks flooding with color as she picked up her wand. "I - I would like that, very much!" Dear Merlin what was wrong with her...

  

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She seemed rather flustered and now Eugene felt guilty for making it worse with his suggestion. It took her a moment to gather his intentions, but  she got there and a grin spread, a little painfully, across the mess that was his face.  The enthusiasm behind her agreement had him chuckling, but beneath everything else, he was quite pleased by it as well.

Hopefully with pre-planned meetings she could no longer sneak up on him. Not that he didn't enjoy it (this was by far the worst he'd faired in her company), but he'd rather spend less time in the hospital and more time enjoying her company. "Well that settles that then," He chuckled again. "Hopefully without incident next time." A little less bloodshed would be good too.

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With her silly embarrassment complete, Tilda gave him an apologetic smile and laughed. "I can't guarantee that Mr. Scamander," she replied as she prepared to mend his injury. "though I shall do my best to make sure our next encounter sees you unscathed!"

  

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