It was only Cash’s goddamn wife. If he had had any doubts of her identity, the muttered French confirmed it – and Theo had done an involuntary survey of the shop’s occupants before he could stop himself, to see if he was here too. Apparently not. Theo didn’t know if that was good news or bad –

But her sudden shift and her companion’s gasp distracted him from those worries. Her dress was tattered in places, but the damage was deeper – had gone right through to her skin. Theo had been clutching unwittingly at just above his own elbow, where the fire had caught him and the burn still stung with heat, but hers was worse.

Theo hissed through his teeth. They’d be lucky to get a mediwitch or wizard out to them in this – they could not be the only people trapped in London because of the dragons – and who knew if this shop had a fireplace anywhere to Floo them to the hospital. Maybe he’d check that, but first...

“Fine,” Theo said thoughtlessly, to her returned question. He reached out to grasp her by the arm, just in case she buckled fully. Her companion could take her by the other, if she was any use. “Can you sit?” She should sit, he thought, so he – so someone – could take a proper look at that burn.

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