Basil was still thinking about Macnair’s voice as he retreated towards the door. Its cadence rattled around in his mind, even and low and comforting in a way that was… slightly unusual for the Ravenclaw. He wouldn’t let himself indulge the thought, but something about Macnair’s voice made him want to wrap up inside of it like a blanket, a shield from the hardships of the day. Maybe some people were just meant to have a calming presence in this world? Maybe Macnair was just special. It was with this thought that Basil turned and ducked, having heard the cry, and obeyed immediately. Grey hues widened as he heard something explode. What in Merlin’s name—? The Ravenclaw flinched as something smacked him in the arm, books dropping to the ground with a thud. Then Macnair hissed and Basil turned to find the other scowling at something on his shoulder, wand discarded.
“Are you alright?” He asked, abandoning his collection of tombs and standing. Macnair didn't look alright, so Basil crossed the small space between them. He picked up the other's wand as he went. When he neared, Basil could see blood staining the Slytherin's attire. “Ah,” he murmured. “Here, let me see…” He turned Macnair towards himself, not minding any protests the other might make. Then, gently dipping cold fingers under the ripped cloth of the other’s robes, Basil tugged back the fabric. He revealed two small gashes, one superficial the other a little deeper, from where something from that exploding whose-it-what must have caught. The Ravenclaw’s face softened. “That doesn’t look fun,” he said quietly.
Gently then, still holding Macnair by the arm with one hand, Basil set the kid's wand down on the nearest surface (a desk) and reached for his own. He didn’t wait for permission to proceed; this was an easy one. With a soft mutter, Basil gave his wand a flick and the wound began to stitch itself closed. It took a minute and some concentration, but eventually the smaller of the two scrapes vanished and the larger closed in so much that it might heal on its own in a few days. Relieved, Basil lowered his wand and gently released Macnair’s arm. His face warmed then as he realized how close he’d gotten to the other boy. “Er— there,” Basil replied, taking a small step backwards and ducking his head. “Sorry.”