Verity wasn't used to kind touches from men, friends aside. She tried to remind herself that Ollivander was nice, old, grandfatherly but frankly she didn't know what a Grandfather was supposed to be like. Instead her body tensed slightly, ready to defend herself if need be, despite her mention ruminations.
She sat as guided before starting in on a hacking cough again. Her eyes were a little wild, though she was trying desperately to keep in control of herself. For a moment she only watched him despite his request. The burns were mostly on her lower leg, a lesser one on her thigh, but lifting her robes didn't sound wise to her. Even if he had been kind, one of the few she'd met in years, she was hesitant. After a moment, the tone in his voice, she leaned down, lifting the left side of the robes. The burn had had salve applied but there was little else she could do with the first aid kit Rabastan had tossed at her.
"This is the worst," she told him, not wanting to look at the injury herself.
"I was- am- being punished. I think." That much was never clear.