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Hrrrrrm. Raiden flipped the sleeve over, trying to find which end was which, and when he finally figured it out, he pushed it up Sabel's arm to his shoulder. It wasn't difficult to fix the torn cloth, really; it was one of the handy spells he was actually good at. A bit of silver thread wound its way between the two separated items, binding them back together.
"I can't really fix any of the spots where the sleeve got cut... I'm not too great at that. But reattaching it is a lot easier."
...really, Sabel Dakest. Did he ever study? Surely he did it every so often, otherwise he wouldn't have made it to his sixth year.
"Colds are best fixed with a potion... magic can fix most things, I guess? I don't know what you're angling for, here. There's potions for lots of stuff, and there's spells for some things too..." He shifted, and the paper crinkled in his pocket; the prefect turned his eyes to it and stared, as if the parchment sticking out were a foreign object trying to suck the life out of him. "You can't create food... Professor Kingsley could help you with this, did you forget it all from his classes last term? There are limits, and rules, and exceptions..."
How had they ended up talking about that?
"Anything hurt much anymore?" he rocked his weight back onto his heel. "I don't have a pain reliever on me... There's some in my dorm but they're in glass phials, I don't know if that's a brilliant idea." |