Despite the information on him she'd found on paper, Mr. Rosier was proving to be nothing less than a complete gentleman. The words that left his mouth could very well have been an echo of the sentiment she'd shared with those who attempted to help her in life; being burdensome was perhaps her biggest fear, though in this case she was inclined to disagree with his words despite not voicing as much. She caught his eye as he glanced over his shoulder and offered her a smile and small nod in response.
"If you wish, Mr. Rosier," she allowed, letting him control of the steering while her hands remained rested on the bars to street. "I would not be concerned about being a burden; as my patient, I will do everything in my power to ensure your comfort until my legs collapse," she explained, a subtle tone of teasing present in her voice. "If your arms begin to tire, do let me know. I'll be happy to take control again."
His words about muggle techniques brought back unpleasant memories from her childhood. She was sure that she'd prayed for the life of a man who'd lost his legs to plague only to hear of his death the next day from blood loss. If she were to have been a muggle instead of a muggle-born, medicine would have been an unlikely choice for a career.
(Then again, if she'd been a muggle she would have never been in need of a career to begin with!)
"Not all can be expected to handle injuries as valiantly as you have, Mr. Rosier," she chuckled. "We must pity them in the moment and hope they find their strength soon enough. One can only whine so long before they tire themselves."
"If you wish, Mr. Rosier," she allowed, letting him control of the steering while her hands remained rested on the bars to street. "I would not be concerned about being a burden; as my patient, I will do everything in my power to ensure your comfort until my legs collapse," she explained, a subtle tone of teasing present in her voice. "If your arms begin to tire, do let me know. I'll be happy to take control again."
His words about muggle techniques brought back unpleasant memories from her childhood. She was sure that she'd prayed for the life of a man who'd lost his legs to plague only to hear of his death the next day from blood loss. If she were to have been a muggle instead of a muggle-born, medicine would have been an unlikely choice for a career.
(Then again, if she'd been a muggle she would have never been in need of a career to begin with!)
"Not all can be expected to handle injuries as valiantly as you have, Mr. Rosier," she chuckled. "We must pity them in the moment and hope they find their strength soon enough. One can only whine so long before they tire themselves."
