I can remember that one time I had broken my leg, because of a wizard friend not being all that careful with a Bludger. I was in so much pain and wanted my parents to help me quickly. My father came around with a bottle of a potion called Skele-Gro. I took a sip from it and it was horrible, it tasted so nasty. After I drank it I had a burning feeling inside my stomach. A few seconds later I was to discover that the taste was only the least of the problems with this potion. I started to get a twinkling feeling in my leg and after that the pain started. I thought I had been in much pain with my leg being broken, but this…I can’t even describe the level of pain I was in as it was too much to handle for me. I know that I fainted from the pain I got from it. Next thing I know is that I woke up in my bed with my leg being better, it was 2 days later though, so I missed a lot of time I which I could have played Quidditch if my friend had been more careful.

After several years of this he was not only abnormally skittish around hearths and campfires, he also turned a sickly shade of green and developed a purple rash between his toes. Once he started spouting sparks from his nose when eh sneezed, he was diagnosed with dragon pox. He was sent straight to Saint Mungo's and was treated with the cure straight away. It took him quite some time to recover and his skin was always a bit green afterwards. Apparently while he was away, the Horntails laid a massive amount of beautiful eggs and Great Uncle Morton was asked to leave his job at the hatchery. He retired somewhere in the tropics so that he'd never have to be anywhere near a fire.

Anyway, one night I stole out of the orphanage for a night stroll--something I've done a lot before, when I came face to face with a werewolf. Of course, at the time, I didn't know what it was. I ran, feeling my heart thumping so wildly that I thought it was going to jump out of my chest. The wolf hit me in the back and tore at me. So much pain. I laid on the ground barely able to keep my eyes open. I saw a flash of light but my eyes closed.

Later I woke in Saint Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The Healer Mathilda Sparks told me that I'd been attacked by a werewolf and was close to death. If it wasn't for the auror following the werewolf I would have. He apperated me right to Saint Mungo's. The werewolf had been stalking me apparently liking to harm young children. I was in bad shape for awhile but Healer Sparks took good care of me. She gave me potions to heal me and allow me to sleep when the nightmares got bad. I lived at Saint Mungo's for almost a year as no one knew what to do with me. Clearly I couldn't go back to the muggle orphanage. A couple visited a family member who had been bitten by a nasty poisonous spider. They took a liking to me and adopted me. The moment I woke in Saint Mungo's and learnt of the magical world I wanted to be a healer myself. I rely on Wolfsbane potion and healing potions monthly. But now I wonder... could a werewolf be allowed to work as a Healer? Magnus Lee Gryffindor

"Ingrown pin feathers." he muttered "Heard there was a clever woman here who could help me."

The man was a skin-walker, which is something like an animagus, and something like a werewolf, but not really exactly like either. He had the misfortune of transforming just as his raven form was moulting, and the newly growing feathers were stuck under his tough human skin with no way to grow but back inwards.

The next few days must have been torture for him, and I'm afraid I didn't help. Not that the potions to thin his skin enough for the feathers to grow through were painful, but being trapped under a roof while his flesh was in such a delicate state was difficult for him. Add a curious five year old witch to the confinement..., and he needed a double dose of a calming draught nightly, just to keep him from ripping his skin clean off.

On the third day the last of the cysts had broken open, and the quill sheaths flaked away from the swiftly growing glossy black feathers. By the end of the week he was gone as silently as he had arrived. Only a small bag of cactus buttons and gold dust, and one long jet black feather remained to show he had ever been in our house.

Apparently nettles are worse for werewolves and although I've been told there's some pain that we cannot cure (like the effects of turning werewolf and back again - no potion can prevent that it seems), I was pleased that my Uncle's "cureall potion" was able to ease the feeling on my skin.

Of course as a young pup, I didn't learn to avoid the nettle patch, so we always made sure to have a good supply of the potion in the house, just in case.

One day, my mother had just put me down for a nap when we heard someone outside yell, "Feuer! (fire!). My mother told me to stay in bed so she could get see what was happening. I looked outside and saw a terrible sight. A man was yelling his son and daughter were still inside. My father ran inside the house and found the sleeping children. He carried them out and saw they had horrible burns on their all over their arms and legs and they were having trouble breathing. I then saw my mother running and handed my father a bottle. I saw him pour a small amount of the unknown liquid into the children's mouths. He too took a small drink from the bottle.

The children came to stay with us for a few days so my father could care for them so the family wouldn't have to worry about a hospital bill. Within a few days, the children were up and playing with me and their burns were completely healed. That is when I became interested in learning about healing magic and have been trying to decide if I too would like to become a healer when I get older. Amelia Tudor, Hufflepuff

When I was 9 years old though, there was an incident that caused me to use stronger healing magic to heal. I was riding my broomstick across the New Zealand countryside with my cousin. Our long blond hair was flying behind us and we were both laughing and pushing our brooms faster. Suddenly, out of nowhere a large deer ran out of the woods in front of us. Layla managed to swerve around the beast successfully, but I was in a more direct path and was not so lucky. My broom went spinning, throwing me through the air. I landed on my left arm, breaking my arm in one place, and my wrist in another. I climbed on to the back of Layla's broom, moaning in pain, and we flew back to my house. My mum took me to the hospital, where I was kept overnight after taking a dose of Skele-grow. It was quite the painful experience, regrowing two broken bones. My father stayed with me through the night. I was back on the broom a week later, but was definitely much more careful!

A pregnant woman coughed and had excused herself from the table. Her husband seemed worried. She looked as if she was ready to pop any second. The woman continued to cough and stopped in her tracks. Her lips had gone blue and her face turned from scarlet red to purple. Her eyes were bloodshot. People began crowding her asking her what was wrong. “Is it the baby?” some asked. "What's wrong?" others asked. She clutched her throat and could only make raspy noises.

A young busboy, he must have been about fourteen or fifteen at most, understood what was happening immediately. He ran up to her and pointed his wand at her and yelled, “Anapneo!”. Her throat was cleared at once. The woman had been eating a steak but swallowed too big of a bite. That day changed his life. He saved two lives that day and continues to do so today. He's a Mediwizard now. I also heard that the young family named their newborn son after him.

First thing I have learned: wear goggles when boiling sugar. Secondly, I have also learned to keep a jar of Slatterly's Scorch Salve close at hand. It's a wizarding ointment that is orange and cooling in nature, similar to muggle "burn gels" thought I have found the former to be more effective since attending Hogwarts. Although a dab of the salve generally works on more minor burns, I do sometimes suffer from what muggles call "second degree burns." This causes blistering which can be very painful. Unlike more minor burns, these needs to be bandaged to keep infection from sitting it and are attended to very similarly in both the magic and non-magic world.

On one occasion, however, I have been tended to by the house elves that work in the kitchens. So appalled they were at my self-injury, and insisting it at been their fault, I was fascinated to see them enchant a copper bowl of water with their own brand of magic. At least, I believe it to be water, but when they placed my hand into the bowl, the liquid felt as though I had stuck my arm into chilled heavy cream. I watched as a membrane formed around the outside of my hand, creating a transparent gel. Once down, the elves immediately removed my hand, wrapped it in a clean towel and told me to sit and wait for 20 minutes. (And they meant it.) Once the towel was removed, my hand looked and felt as though I had not been burned. Though I questioned them about it, the elves refused to answer me and I was banned from the kitchens for a week or two before convincing them it had not been their fault in the first place.

I had trained myself to separate myself from the pain so as to better deal with the situation at hand. In the first attempt, I used a mixture of magical medicine along with Muggle; I took two book covers to make a splint, tore my robe and wrapped it around the covers to keep it in place. Once in place, I took a deep breath and pointed my wand at my ankle and muttered "Episkey!" thus resealing the bone, mostly. I had never done the spell before and while the splint helped keep my ankle in place, the break was in 3 places at odd angles so the most I could manage was slight mending. I was able to get myself to the hospital wing in a less painful fashion as if I had not had the splint. The Matron managed to fix my ankle and I was up and back to the abandoned classroom to practice again in ten minutes time in which forty minutes later, my second accident occurred. In the second situation, I was able to get my cat to retrieve Mrs. Norris who in turn found Filch who brought Madam Pomfrey. A severed spinal injury was much more than I could've dealt with at that point in time. She gave ma combination of Skelegrow and dittany to held mend the spine and I stayed over night.

Healing magic is something that has fascinated me since I was a small child and it is my ambition to become a Healer once I graduate Hogwarts. I very much look forward to learning anything in this subject and putting it to good use helping others.

Muggle healing takes quite a bit more time and relies more on the bodies own natural healing capabilities. They basically have to take something to kill the pain until their own bodies can mend themselves and depending on the injury it can take many months. Thinking back I am very thankful I didn’t have to live with a cast on my arm for months. I hear they can be very itchy inside and end up smelling terrible once removed.