Leslie stood over her, his hands resting on his hips in a very obstinate way; when he spoke it was firm, but done so with a hint of fatherly concern and not at all meant to be really upset or angry. "Miss Fitzpatrick, I am your employer, and I'm telling you to rest." He softened the order even more with a small smile. "Let me take care of your wound first, and then I'll get you that tea. Could you please lift your robes again?"
There was a small stool, upon which he sat, scooting it up close to the bed. Not needing a wand, he held his hands over the area and murmured the spells that would first clean the area and then help accelerate the body's natural healing ability. It took only a few minutes, and when he was finished, he told her, "I have some dressing in my workshop. It shouldn't be left uncovered. I'll be back in a jiffy."
He left her long enough to summon the bandages from the workshop, while in the kitchen he prepared the tea. Leslie returned with a platter which not only held a steaming hot cup of tea, but a couple of buttered scones. "It's not civilized to have tea without something to go with along with it." He gave her the tea and began to dress the wound. "I'll cast the spell again, before too long. Your job today is to stay in bed and relax." Silent as he worked, wrapping the wounded area, he finally said, gravely, "As for your earlier question, I'm not quite sure what you are driving at. I am well aware that those in power have been assigned former prisoners as slaves by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."