Theodore had only been in the emergency ward for about three months, but he had been working at St. Mungo's for nearly three years now, which was plenty of time for the healers here to realize that he could be trusted on his own. Not because he knew everything - no, even three years in, he was constantly learning new things - but because he was quick as lightning to assess a situation, make a judgment call about whether he could handle it, and then call for help if necessary.
A knife wound was well within his abilities, however, even a deep one. He spared a glance at Duke when he spoke, noticing that he was pale and anxious, but didn't seem to be on the verge of passing out. "It's alright," he said. "That's normal. Just breathe."
Returning his attention to the wound, he stopped the bleeding, checked and cleansed the wound, then used his wand to stitch it together. With his eyes closed and his skin numbed, he doubted Duke would even notice.
"There," he said with a small smile, when the wound was covered and bandaged, the trousers cut away around it and still bloodied, but the rest was merely a white bandage. He put a hand on Duke's shoulder, ready to help him up if need be. "Now let's see to your chest. Do you think you can sit up? I can remove your shirt if you stay on your back, but it'll need a bit of repair afterward."