Jeremiah's anger quickly turned to shock at the sight of George's blood. "Fuck," he swore. He hadn't been thinking. "Shite," he swore again. He'd let his anger get the best of him, which he hadn't done since he was a rowdy teenager.
Within seconds, the dark-eyed wizard appeared with his wand out. Jeremiah shook his head. He started to apologise, but what for? For hitting George? Hadn't he deserved it? For making him bleed? For losing his temper?
"Fuck, at least let me heal you," he said, ignoring the wizard standing in the doorway. If it came to it, Jeremiah could likely stop him, too. But George didn't even have magic on his side, and Jeremiah had attacked a wandless wizard--but he hadn't used magic either.