"It's my job," Dorian chuckled. "Accidental magic requires a certain level of observation, and even then you've still a high chance of injury." He wasn't meaning to brag, the risk of injury was just a matter of fact of his job. Hell, he'd been in the hospital vomiting jam on Christmas, after all.

Greengrass stepped away and he released a quiet breath of relief. His hands still itched to feel the small of his back through his coat, and that was just more than he could handle at present. "Aggravated an old quidditch injury is all." He said in an attempt to wave off the concern. Nothing a quick stop to his favorite healer couldn't fix. "I think if we move it off to the side an employee will address the issues later." He continued in regards to the painting. "Better them than us, anyway."