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It was about 30 minutes early before Hunter Radley would walk up the stairs to the entrance of Delilah’s spa or traveled by floo to the tall fireplace overtaking a corner of the room, but the chocolate-colored witch was there already there, sitting tall, back straight, across a wide table from a black chair, the brother of which she was sitting in herself, placing a stack of bowls on the table and then un-stacking them around each other. And then pulled out two tall glass bottles and placed them on the adjacent side of the table. She was doing anything but waiting.

The Jamaican woman then reached down to a picnic-like woven bolga basket beside her, pushed down the handle of the top, and then pulled back up, stretching out a straw-like furniture contraption of hanging herbs, pockets of bags, rows of jars, petite shelves of compartmentalized ingredients, and a bottom layer of various tools sheathed in the weaving along with needles, knives, rocks, and shells.

Her thin hands then went to work with combining a certain mixture of herbs and oils in each bowl and jar, shaking, crushing, and mixing as needed, combined with a bit of chopping on the side. She crushed a few animal parts in a few bowls and then mixed them into a thick white and grey goo and sheathed her knife away in the bottom of her furniture-basket. All that was left on the table was an assortment of bowls and jars, a lot for what she was planning too, but a general beginning for all that she needed to do, for the general injury she had been informed of by her son, that a certain Quidditch announcer had.

She pulled out two long carrot-like herbs and positioned them in front of, but slightly higher than, her face. She inhaled deeply and then pursed her lips, exhaling a fine stream of fire onto the two vegetables until their skins took on the appearance of lava. She then dipped them both in their separate bowls, melting into and bubbling up a strange black concoction.

Delilah smiled pleasantly at Hunter Radley, who had apparentally walked in moments ago, as the ends of her vegetables bubbled into the potions in front of her, “Hello Mistah Radley,” she said only looking up at him when the ends of the vegetables finished melting into their small brews. “Please sit,” she said pointedly in her swinging accent, and then gestured at the chair across from her, keeping a straight and poise sitting position, “an’ tell me ‘bout yer injuree.”

Adric- a fellow quidditch player- had pointed Hunter to his mother, Delilah Foley, for some help with his quidditch injury. At first, he had been unsure, but truth be told, Hunter had tried everything and very little seemed to help with the constant pinch in his back as a result from a rogue bludger years ago. He figured that it wouldn't hurt to give this a try, whatever it was, so Hunter had made an appointment with the voodoo woman.

He was sure to arrive on time, and when he entered the room watched as she lifted two herbs and blew fire from her mouth. Then she dipped them into bowls. That was pretty... intense. Definitely not like any magic he had ever seen. Hunter kept his eyes on the bowls as he took a seat in the chair she motioned to.

"My injury?" he repeated, obviously distracted. It took a few moments to reign in his focus. "Right! My injury! Well, I used to play quidditch," Hunter told her. "About four years ago I was playing a game, and a bludger got me in the spine. Ended up in Mungo's for a while. Healed up as best it could, I suppose, especially with the help of magic. Still bothers me from time to time. I get a regular pinch of pain, and sometimes it just aches. I don't know most of the details of the injury. I've tried just about everything..."

"Potions to relax muscle, acupuncture, even visited a muggle doctor at one point who said it was just something I'd have to live with. Hot and cold compresses, massages... Nothing really seems to help for long." Hunter shrugged. "I've gotten used to it by now. But Adric said you might be able to do a little more." He peered at the bowls again, wondering if that liquid was as hot as it had looked when she dropped those herbs into it. "And here I am."

Delilah listened to Hunter’s dillemna and took note of many things. A bludger, the spine, four years, a pinch, some aches—the slid some of the potions to the side of the table and kept her focus on about five of the bowls, two of which were still bubbling. It was a thought, to get the particulars of the injury by pulling his file from Mungos, but the Jamaican wizard’s confidence stifled that thought, and she pocketed a few of the bottles she pulled out back into her strange basket.

She then became idle again, gently placing a few of her long fingers on her chin as she listened to the methods Hunter had employed to try and relieve the pain, and refrained from stopping his distracting himself, and simply waited for his attention to return to her, “Gener’ally eet sounds like spy-nal nerve damage, Mr. Radley.” She waved her hand off her face and reached for the two bubbling concoctions, each bubble spewing force a steady waft of steam. She then leaned out of her chair and strolled to the other side of the table.

“I’ll need ch’you to stand up, take yer shirt off, and hold ‘dese close to yer face.” she weighed the bowls in her hand as if she were stingy scale, “I’m no stranger ta’ bludgers,” she said, as she waited, probably a statement of the obvious, but best to let him know she handles her childrens’ injuries personally, than to make him feel a little awkward with what she demanded of him. She would also have added that she could probably get him on the road to recover, but it was never fair to give such a hope to a patient with a tiny margin of overwhelming doubt. And it wasn’t fair to the doctor to expect such things, especially if he decided to jump into the field with the Falcons immediately after any treatment.

Hunter would have made some crack about her coming on to him if she wasn't the mother of someone he knew. You didn't mess with someone's mother like that. Instead, he did was instructed. He folded his shirt after pulling it over his head, and set it down in the chair he had been occupying. The bowls were soon in his hands, and he held them close to his face. Really, he felt ridiculous.

"I'm not stranger to them either," he said from behind the bowl. "I'd taken hundreds of hits, from Hogwarts to the professional league, and one just got me the wrong way... Put me out of the game. Not that I mind, I like the job I have now. Still get to be part of the world, without having to take any bludgers to the head or nasty falls from a broom. I get to go to every Puddlemere game." Hunters voice was tinged with pride at the statement. That was his team, always had been. It was good to still be a part of it, even if he couldn't play.

"So what's in these bowls anyway?" From the position he had them in, it was hard to see inside. He could still hear the bubbles popping though. "Is it going to hurt me if I spill them?" he asked. Not that Hunter wasn't accustomed to holding round things up to his face- but usually they were attached to a woman who was attached to his sheets...

Once hunter took the bowls Delilah circled behind him and procured her wand from her long  hair. She ran her wand over his back which put a glow under his skin and made his bones translucently visible to her, and then switched the spell to making his muscles visible, changing the light and making different layers of his insides as navigable and visible as possible.

At the mention of getting hit hundreds of times, Delilah took notice of a few calcium build-ups and scar tissue—probably wounds that were left untreated by magical means, and she gave a creeping hum of disapproval, “You playuhs should take more care of yourselves.”

Delilah embedded her wand into her dreadlocks again, and thumbed Hunter’s spine with harsh, but necessary pressure, gauging his reaction against the areas of his back she pressed against, “leave ‘di little t’ings unchecked and ‘dey turn inta big problems.” Not that they had anything to do with Hunter’s current condition, but it was more of a critical doctor mother comment than anything else.

As he posed a question towards her she took a moment to answer. “Now?” she said as she peered over to the bowls, checking to see that the hot steam they were once bubbling out had turned into a faint and chilling mist, “’Dey are somet’in of yer body.” She clawed the bowls out of his hands and checked to see that one was a grainy white goop and the other was just a clear liquid.

She moved back over to her side of the table and dumped the liquid into a large empty bottle, throwing in a few herbs and various creature parts and then thickening it with flobberworm mucus. “’Dis will be a medicine you’ll need ta’ take every night fer four weeks.” Then she gestured to the goop, “Eet will work wit’ ‘dis one, which I’ll rub into yer back and then seal.” She waved the end of her sentence to a pink cream with bits of seeds in it.

Delilah pulled out a few lids and placed them on the bowls that wouldn’t be used, and returned them to her meta-morphed woven basket. “Hopefully eet’ll work towards correctin’ yer back, but may feel a bit weird and twisted four a while.” After pushing basket down to its normal form, she put the cream, the goop, the potion, and a bottle of oil on its lid. “You’ll need to follow me, and leave yer shurt… or—“ she turned her hand upwards and pointed towards the curtain in the other corner of the room, with a rack of robes and some empty hangers, “put it over on th’ rack.”

Delilah struck a final pose with a hand on her hip, “Is ‘der anyt’ing else you’d like? I ‘cin make somet’in fer pain.” She paused and shrugged a shoulder towards her chin, “just’in case.”

"We do the best we can, it's not our health that's important- it's catching the snitch and putting quaffles through hoops," Hunter joked. But his smile didn't last for long as her thumb pressed into his spine he let out a loud, overdramatic, very far from manly yelp.

"What'd you do that for?" he asked, trying very hard not to squirm under the prying thumb. "I told you it hurt, didn't I? Gotta prove it or something?" Hunter's grumbles were not menacing in tone- mostly just whining, like a child with a booboo. He certainly had a booboo alright. His war wound classified, and gave him every excuse he needed to complain about his health or his pain to anyone who would listen. It also aided Hunter in getting very nice massages from very pretty women who wanted to help. Yes, the man knew how to play his cards right.

It seemed a bit abrupt when she took the bowls from his hands, and he curiously peered inside when they were finally at a level for a decent view. What was in them now? "Something of my body?" he questioned. That sounded odd. Then again, what did he know? Hunter generally avoided healers and mediwitches and wizards as best he could. Unless he had no choice. So the way they went about their profession was foreign to him.

Hunter did wish, however, that the voodoo woman had not mixed up the "medicine" in front of his eyes. He made a sound of disgust when she added the thickening agent, glad he didn't have any idea what it was and with no intentions to ask about it either. "Four weeks?" That was a hell of a long time. He'd try. Maybe Hunter would tell his mum about it. She'd probably owl every night just to remind him to take his medicine. "Does it taste awful?" he asked. Naturally that was his main concern.

When she instructed him to follow, Hunter put his shirt on the rack. His mother would have killed him for leaving it out in the presence of a lady and a professional. (Granted had his mother been here, she would have henpecked he and Delilah to death over what was going on.) "I'll be alright. Manage the pain fine with simple potions usually. If it gets too bad I can find a stronger one in Diagon, I'm sure." Plus, Hunter had the strange feeling she was teasing him about it- making fun of his whining and less than manly groanings up until this point.

"Lead the way, Miss Foley," he said, making a grand gesture for her to go ahead of him, and offering a charming smile. Hopefully whatever was next would not consist of more poking and prodding of his spine. That had hurt.

“Eet needs to be somet’in of you or yer body’ll reject it,” She said with a painfully obvious pang, “Concernin’ di smell, eet varies from person t’ person. You’ll ‘ave to try it.” And then she turned and slid the door open, after Hunter put his shirt away, and commented that he wouldn’t need any extra medicine. However, she wasn’t sure about that, she’d mix something up for him just in case—besides, Diagon sold kid stuff, “I’d radder you owl me and I’ll send you somet’in, dunno how odder potions you usually take’ll react.”

As she lightly stepped onto the hardwood floor of the hall she walked down it a bit and then came to corner at the turn of an inner wall, which was fortified by a thick mess of vines. She waved her hand the vines peeled apart, and she stepped into an outdoor massage area, with the sun shining through and being considerably warmer than what the weather usually was at the moment in the UK.  The stone walls were littered in vines and plants, and a few overreaching trees growing out of the walls.

Delilah almost walked under a wooden parabola before stopping and laying her basket down on a tall dark flat rock top, and laid out the bowls and the bottle on it, “Now lay down on yer stomach, and I'll ” She gestured to the wooden massage table half-sitting under the parabola, "An' try t' hold still, eet might feel a bit like you gotta snake fer a spine." She also considered mentioning that she might have to hex him still, but she didn't think that was currently necessary. He seemed a bit skittish, but Delilah hoped it wasn't to the point of relying on spells.

"Well I can't imagine my body would produce anything that didn't taste delicious," he commented. If the medicine was going to be of his body and taste of himself, then he wasn't worried. Naturally Hunter's flavor would be sugar and spice and everything nice. Just like his mum's pumpkin pie... No, wait, that was wrong. Hunter made an ugly face and pushed the thought from his mind.

"If you're worried other potions might have a bad reaction, then maybe you ought to send something home with me... Just in case, of course." Hunter smiled sweetly and followed her, pausing when they came into a room that had... vines and trees? Interesting. Hunter decided he liked it. He enjoyed being outside, and there wasn't a lot of green in winter.

He did as he was instructed, laying down on his stomach. "I'll hold still, I promise," he assured her. But it wasn't a very true promise. The second she pressed on his back and did anything to cause discomfort, Hunter would likely find himself squirming and hollering like a child. He tended to be a bit dramatic- especially when it came to pain or his injuries. But for now he could play the part of big-bad-quidditch-man. "I'm sure I've felt worse on the field. Do your worst!" Probably not the best invitation to extend to the voodoo lady.

Delilah found it amusing that Hunter was easily persuaded into taking her medicine, but she assumed that it had more to with Radley playing it safe.

And then when he “braved” the table her eyes narrowed in a concerned look but an amused grin tugged at the sides of her mouth. 

She scooped up all the grainy goop out of the bowl and unevenly smeared it across Hunter’s back, spine, and the affected area. She started to rub it in with a light rubbing and massaging, feeling the muscles heat up as the goop molded into his body.

Once the gel was massaged in she splashed some of the oils onto the back and smoothed it in until Hunter’s back was a glossy sheen. She thumped his back to check how the medicine set in, and how loose the muscles were and how malleable his spine had become.

She tilted her head and walked around to the where Hunter’s head was laying, checking to see how he was handling things thus far. It didn’t matter too much for any fidgeting or jumping he had done during that part—she just wanted to be able to gauge how he’d react to the rest of the procedure.

She walked back around to his side, and pulled her wand out of her hair a bit, preparing her reflexes for any quick movements. Her hands began to rub back and forth on the back, harder and harder, until he she felt the warm and jello-like mess was under her control, and then took the next step. She braced her fingers around his rubbery spine and then quickly rolled it into a curve along the left side of his back, ready for any manner of fidgeting or jumping.

Maybe this procedure wasn't going to be so bad. She wasn't exactly gentle, but Hunter also wasn't in any massive amounts of pain either. He was relaxing. Maybe this would help and his back would feel better for once. Hunter would give anything for a few weeks of relief from the random twinges. He likely should have done something about it sooner- but it had been getting worse lately. Hunter wasn't sure why, but he was here now and-

"YOW!" Hunter yelped when she grasped his spine, rolling it up. He screeched loudly, fidgeting. "You crazy voodoo woman!" he shouted at her, trying to squirm out from under her gasp. It was hard, though, to escape from a woman who had a very strong, incredibly firm grip on your spine. And the more he tried to get away, the more it hurt, and the louder his protests became.

"Let me go!" he hollered. "Let me go! I surrender!" Hunter's eyes squeezed shut with the pain, and he tried to roll out of her grasp again. His back popped a little when he did- and it caused him to stop thrashing quite so violently, lest he break it all over again. "You could have at least numbed it first!" he whined.

Delilah held her palm down onto the man’s shoulder blades while having her other hand pin down  the small of his back. Due to the malleable spine and play-doh consistency of his muscle, the man was relatively easy to keep in one place without the proper functioning biology for motor functions of his posterior side. However, the man managed to pop something in his side that at least rendered him still for a moment.

She whipped out her wand and slapped it upside his head, “Immobilus.” Once the man was finally still she sheathed the wand back into her hair and popped his side back into place, and then prodded the rest of his torso to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

Satisfied nothing else was out of place she rolled the spine back to where she wanted it, and then worked her way around the rest of the muscles, “Yer about as solid as a jellyfish back here.”

She started to work her finger around the spine, and began to move things around, “Some of ‘di pain is caused by ‘dat nerve,” and then wiggled a lot free, as she worked the spine back into place, and then dunked her voice into a caveat tone, “Most of eet is in yer head—“ A sigh and then explanation, “but you need t’ tell me when it starts feeling less like yer being pinched...” she shrugged her head to a side for a moment considering Hunter’s pain, “stabbed,” she corrected herself, “an’ more like yer part jelly.” She mentioned, referring to the fish.

Hunter was SHOCKED when he felt the wand hit him in the hand, and his body go rigid, unable to move. She- she'd spelled him into being still! What a horrible woman! Hunter wanted to squirm, but he couldn't. He wanted to holler at her for it, but he couldn't. Even his mouth couldn't move! Oh no! What if she yanked his spine right out of his back! There was nothing he could do for it!

But as she rolled things around, moved his spine, and tugged at whatever she was tugging at- it seemed to feel better. It was like everything that had once been tight was loosening up. And it was definitely a relief.

Hunter, however, couldn't really tell her whether or not things felt better whenever he was immobilized. And it wasn't in his head! Hunter would have pouted if he had been able to do so.

After a few moments of Hunter’s silence Delilah started to turn her massage into a more repetitive and unproductive thing, that just moved everything in a rhythm pattern that ended back in it’s original spot, to see if it got any reaction out of the man. She peeked around to his face again, to try and comprehend what he was experiencing, and then raised an eye at his expression.

She didn’t think she’d have to go as far as to use another spell on Radley to make him talk, or durg him with another potion—she had a strong feeling he was ridiculously and childishly stubborn, but she’d prefer he talk on his own accord and began condescendingly, “You only can’t move, but ‘kin talk, just find yer voice, Radley.”

She then continued her repetitive massage, waiting for a response and then added a bit more, “Or make a sound or mumble,” she said with a slight growl sliding on the back of her voice.

Wow- this woman definitely seemed to be pretty impatient. "It already feels better," he told her when she informed him that he could talk. And behold- he could. He should have tried before instead of over-logicing it. He didn't like not being able to move, though, It was agitating. But at least it was helping. Like she was untangling a knot of nerves and smoothing them out. It was a relief.

"How long will it last?" he asked- finally calmed down a little. The initial shock of being immobilized, and the obnoxious pain of her grappling with his spine and his nerves had eased- so he was calm. Besides, the lady had practically scared him into submission. Her stern tone was more effective than his mother's was! Then again, he didn't have to worry his mom smacking him in the head with a wand or putting a voodoo curse on him.

Hunter cringed when she hit another sensitive nerve. He wondered how long this was going to go on- and he also wondered how long he would be pain free afterward. At least he wasn't playing quidditch anymore, so there was no worry of a bludger busting up all of the work that she had already done.

Delilah gave an approving hum once she finally got a response out of Hunter she continued what she had been doing before and fingered loose the rest of his nerves. “If ya take all your meds and take good care of eet’ll probably go away,” she said rubbing around her words like she was on Hunter’s back, “eef not—it’s a goin’ to last ‘bout a month, tops.”

Delilah worked loose the rest of the nerves she had found and then massaged the spine back straight again, making sure the work that she had done was not undone. She reached for the bottle of oil on her rock and splashed some of it onto his back, then a dab on her hands. Her fingers pushed the oils into her palms which soon went to work smoothing out Hunter’s back and sealing away the medicine holding his innards in their new form until his back was smooth and dry, “How is 'dat a feelin’?” she asked, not yet solidifying his spine just in case she needed to make a few more adjustments, and then looked over at Hunter’s medicine to see it had set into a orange swirl.

“An’ I want chyou ta’ tell me back ‘bout what I said about your medicine.” She quipped at him expecting a proper answer, as she moved over to her back and began to shake up one of the lidded bowls she had put away earlier until it started to rattle like a rain-stick.