Basil couldn’t help the absent little smile that stole across his face at the Slytherin’s mutter. Amusing, was he? the Ravenclaw thought to himself as he patched Macnair up. (That was the inobvious charm to Agrimony Macnair Basil found he liked so much. The other could be entirely straight faced as he quipped back a snark, and Basil couldn’t help but find it endearing.) He concentrated fully then before stepping away, warm and somewhat self-conscious at having taken such a brazen initiative. Macnair didn’t know him that well; he could easily have gotten angry at being messed with by magic. Still, the Slytherin didn’t seem upset, especially as he thanked Basil. Another little lopsided grin stole across the Ravenclaw’s face and he shrugged noncommittally. Basil felt himself squirm then under Macnair’s flash of an appraisal. There was something about being looked up and down by the Slytherin that made him want to dart. Holding his own, Basil kept grey eyes keenly focused on the other’s movements, looking for any additional signs of damage. When he was addressed, he shook his head slowly.
“No,” Basil replied quietly. “I’m alright, thanks.”
Tucking his wand away then, back into his waistcoat pocket, Basil let out a short breath. His books still lay across the way where he’d abandoned them on the floor, but it felt rude to simply pat Macnair on the back and walk away after that fiasco. Instead, he looked around at the wreckage. “Do you er— need help cleaning this up?” He asked. Curiosity still prickled at Basil as to what the Slytherin had been working on in the first place. Perhaps it was something he could lend a hand with, after all?