His first priority was getting to safety. It wasn't as though there were hundreds of windows to blow glass into their faces, but there were more windows as they continued their ascent up the staircase, and Raphael eyed each one wearily as they darted past. It was only when they reached the right floor that he really stopped to look at him, and—

"Merlin," he breathed, unable to say anything else as he looked at the cuts on her face. Most of them were small, but there were plenty of them—some, he thought, that might even scar if they didn't get medical attention soon enough. His brows knitted together, thinking back to his time at Hogwarts. They'd been taught some healing spells, but nothing particularly advanced, especially in his case. He's only achieved an A in his Charms NEWT.

The sound of crashing in the distance stirred him to action, and he quickly pushed her up against the wall as a gust of wind—not strong enough of sweep them away, but enough to cause alarm—swept through the corridor. He pressed his hands against the wall on either side of her almost protectively, but made sure to keep as much space between their bodies as he could. "I can get the glass out of your face," he said, all the while eyeing the door that led into the next level of rooms, "but I'm not sure how to stop the bleeding."

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