Mary's eyes drifted to the Potion drip. He was right. He had more than enough, but.. she figured she'd ask anyways.
Slowly she looked back at the bed. Moody seemed so.. fragile. She didn't like it. This wasn't her mentor. She didn't like to think about people being weak and sick.
"They have minor scrapes and bruises," Mary replied. "They're both at home. I'm sure Frank or Alice will be by later."