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Alicia Spinnet-Pucey (_alicia_) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

“Not even a year ago,” Alicia corrected him. “And if it’d been up to me, it’d’ve been at least another month before you were back out on that Pitch.” Oliver was tough, sure, she knew that, but she was also all too aware that concussions was nothing to make light of.

This wasn’t the first time Alicia was doing a quick patch-up on someone, it wasn’t even the first time she was doing it on Oliver, so his growls and yelps barely registered with her. At least not on a level deeper than it alerted her to whether or not she was doing something wrong. What she wouldn’t give to just be able to whip out her wand and Heal him properly right here, but with all the Muggles and the cameras around, she had to settle for simply staunching the bleeding as best she could so he wouldn’t pass out from blood loss before she could get him to St. Mungo’s.

“And how exactly are you going to get home from here?” she asked him, her eyes still locked with his. There was no way she was backing down on this, not even if it was a game of chicken when it came to who would break eye contact first. Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out the blanket and draped it around his massive shoulders when he began to shiver. “Right now you have three options, Oliver Wendall Wood,” she told him straight out. “You can either stay here and do more harm than good before they put you in an ambulance and take you to the nearest Muggle hospital. I can put you in a bodybind and take roll you away on one of those wheeled stretchers.” Her lips twitched slightly as the determination to no longer pull any punches settled in. “Or you can let me take you to St. Mungo’s and I’ll get you some of those salted butter caramel éclairs you love so much. So what’ll it be?”