"Of course not," William said, and his mouth really was running on automatic now, but he couldn't seem to help himself. There was so much blood. And torn skin. And exposed flesh. And blood. He stripped off his school dress shirt, which was too starched and stiff to serve, and cast a cleaning and sterilizing charm on his undershirt almost before he'd finished yanking it over his head. That done, he applied the same slashing charm he'd used on the Dreamvine to rip the fabric to bandage-length shreds.
"We'll get them touched up afterward," he said, talking because he felt like if he didn't, he might throw up, and that wouldn't help anything. "There's barely anything missing here, though, it's just a small bite." He swallowed bile and held his arm over Travis' while he cast the only spell he knew that might substitute for proper venom-sucking assistance as well as general cleansing, and then placed the Dreamvine carefully - so carefully, Travis' arm was raw and had to be excruciating - over the worst of the open wound before wrapping it securely in what used to be his shirt.
"We should look at the one on your stomach, though," he continued blithely as he tied the first bandage off in a simple square knot. "You and I could have matching scars, that would be cool. And it would give you an excuse to show off your abs to the ladies. You could tell them to check out your incredible Hou-- Hogwarts war wound. That's not from the war. Post-war wound." He bit his lip, did not throw up, and starting peeling back the fabric covering Travis' stomach.