As the horrendous sound of high-pitched screeches burst through the door everyone on the First Floor wondered if someone had decided to wrongly bring a Merman here instead of a Magizoology Clinic.  Upon clasping their hands over their ears and gain enough control over their throbbing headaches to look they would see a rather unexpected sight.

A petite woman was hobbling down the hall with the right side of her robes ripped from mid-torso to the floor, the light forest-green cotton drenched in blood (which was now leaving a trail behind her) and sticking to the wound, hiding it from the professionals’ eyes.

She was leaning on an even shorter woman—though only slightly shorter—who had wrapped her comrades left arm over her shoulders and helped/dragged Covi along, who was cursing in Mermish… quite fluently, actually.

“BUGGERING MILLICENT BAGNOLD!” she bellowed, clinging as hard as she could to the gash on her thigh which was suddenly starting to spurt pastel blues, creating a rather interesting lavender purple as it mixed with her blood.  “Madam!” he huffed down to the Head of the Auror Office heaving her along, “We MUST seek to revamp the training curriculum our brave and intelligent Hitwizards and Wranglers go through,” she spat out the adjectives with a measure of derision she had not used since her brother Billy had run away from protecting his sister when his wife had essentially set on them the rest of the lad’s seven offspring  to smother her.

Very early that morning they had found a goodly sized bed of runespoors in the midst of chasing the smugglers and breeders.  They were all put in such close quarters that they were mistaking their multiple heads for the multiple heads of others, starting quite a riot amongst the whole nest of them.  Of course in the flurry of action the toes of some of Covi’s Wranglers and Magizoologists in addition to Tamis’ Aurors and Hitwizards who then decided to do away with them in haste, blasting Merlin knows what curses right and left.

Being the witch she was, the young Department Head started zapping wands out of hands to save the precious evidence, but not careful enough to miss the blast of some unknown hex of great imagination which had not only burst open her old scars from an expedition in Africa up on her side, but made a great mess of her thigh too.

There was a merciful higher power out there; Tamis Raynor had been rendered deaf about four minutes ago.  She never thought there could be a worse sound than when Celestina Warbeck filtered across the Wireless. Covadonga Gertrudis put the woman to shame – even with the Banshee backup singers.

True to form, the Head Auror had been among the first life to grace the Ministry that morning. With Remembering Day upon them, she was seeing to the last of the housekeeping at Headquarters before heading to Scotland. Chances were she would not see the office again until the end of the week. And while Belisario had made notable improvement on his clerical skills, they were still too green to put faith in.

She had just signed the last slip of parchment when the Head of RCMC burst in, making a ruckus about three-headed snakes. That was exaggerating the urgency, but it was the version Raynor was sticking to. She could have pulled in a pair of Aurors, sent them with the eccentric woman, and gone back to the scheduled day. But at the mention of the snakes an icy grip had settled in on Tamis’ heart and squeezed relentlessly. So, she wrote a hasty note to her superior, collected the three hitwizards and one auror that had been haplessly lurking about level two, and accompanied the woman herself. Now she was not sure if she lamented that decision or not.

Face flush, Raynor practically dragged the slightly taller Department Head across the first floor of the hospital with as much dignity as possible. A failing feat considering her companion’s impressive command of Mermish and the trail of bread crumbs in Gertrudis’ blood that they left in their wake. With ringing ears, the Auror steered the Magizoologist past the receptionist desk without even the slightest deterrent. Five feet and just five feet, one cursing and sputtering half clothed, drenched in blood, and babbling in a painful language and the other glittering and sparkling in full Auror uniform, Head Auror ranks blazing, but dull in comparison to her murderous expression.  Who would deter that?

”BUG…CENT…NOLD”

Strangled syllables tried to register on Raynor’s still ringing ears as she lugged the woman toward the nearest vacant ward. At least it sounded English this time. The Auror glanced up once and then resumed huffing and puffing. Covadonga was not a heavy load, but Tamis did not have the physical capabilities for carrying dead weight.

More words streamed at her incoherently.  “Mad... MUST …  revamp…  brave… intel…”

 “Let’s get you patched up first,” she said.

She was not sure who had been more idiotic – the Law Enforcement for jumping the wand before she could quell them or the Department Head for attempting to disarm said Law Enforcement. Well, she did not need to worry about their reflexes rusting over. Tamis had used the belt of her uniform to at least try to stem the bleeding thigh, but Gertrudis was still losing alarming amounts of blood. It was surprising the woman wasn’t delirious.

Spell-damage would have been the appropriate floor, but Raynor was not hauling the woman up that many floors.

“ASSISTANCE,” she bellowed, probably louder than necessary as she adapted for her hearing deficiency.

Despite having only started her shift thirty minutes ago, Moira had already been able swiftly deal with a Murtlap related injury and was just going to return all of the forms to the appropriate spot at the main desk when she heard the yelling. Stopping in her tracks for a moment, she saw two women coming towards her.  One was practically dragging the other who was the main cause of the noise.

She could see that there was an injury on the one woman’s right side, although she wasn’t entirely sure of the cause.   Blood was dripping a bit as the walked, leaving a trail.  They had managed to pass the receptionist without resistance.  Moira knew she wouldn’t have stood in the way either, and judging by the look on the slightly shorter woman’s face she wasn’t entirely sure who would have dared to stop them.

“ASSISTANCE”

Shaken from a very momentary stupor, Moira took a couple steps forward, looking to the first room to her right.  It was thankfully empty, although with any luck it would soon be occupied by the woman who was obviously in pain and in need of attention.

“You can bring her in here,” she said, motioning to the room.  Judging from what little she could see of the wound she wasn’t entirely sure it was creature induced.  Making a mental note of possible causes, she hoped everything she would need would be easily accessed.

Steeling herself against it, Covadonga took the pain in stride.  In her field of work she had certainly had worse.

Looking up to the taller woman before her dressed in a hospital uniform, though she did not know her station, she said between her gritted teeth, “Sank joo, mees…”  Ah, polite as always, even if her side was shredded.

More blue was starting to bubble out of her thigh at this point.  Thankfully her old open scars on her torso had not started turning lavender like her thigh was.  Covi thought to herself what in all the planes of the universe could have caused such an odd reaction.  She certainly didn’t hear the specific curse or hex the hitwizard had used, but…

Then it hit her.

“ROOSPURE VENUM!” she shrieked.  She was not entirely familiar with how it affected humans.  The symptoms were somewhat different, but the bubbling was… similar.  Not to the intensity boiling type that was happening now.  And it looked like no eggs had made their way in there, hence the lack of a pale orange glow.  She should have seen this coming… the poor snakes were all spitting like made at that point trying to get more distance between each others’ heads

“BOOGER MEH SIDWAIZ WIFF UH BIKURN!” translation being, ‘bugger me sideways with a Bicorn,’ of course referring to the two-horned beast with the body of large cat but the broad face of a toothy human which has a fondness for eating the flesh of men.

Ask and you shall receive.

It was a shame that it was difficult to find good help these days.

A young woman produced herself at a convenient moment, seemingly stumbling upon the two Ministry personnel as they ambled upon her.  The witch had a youthful face but was garbed in a hospital uniform, if not healer’s robes. It was good enough for Tamis. The girl’s eyes widened briefly, but she composed herself in a respectable time frame, approaching them with a grace that Raynor did not doubt would become only more refined with age. So, the fact that the mediwitch was simply standing there twiddling her thumbs might have been less irksome if the Head Auror had been in a better mood.

“I asked for assistance, girl. Assist.”

Yes, the Auror was grumpy. The Department Head was handling pain better than most of Raynor’s men did, but Tam had been helping support the woman since the crime scene and wasn’t particularly fond of the strain. Using magical supports had come to mind but she had not known what had caused the lacerations and had not been willing to unwittingly make matters worse. 

Somehow, someway, Covadonga Gertrudis finally arrived in, well, what was left of one piece, at the indicated ward. The Auror did not let go of the woman until she was somewhat securely perched on one of the beds.

Not having been able to get a good look at the injuries before, Raynor took advantage of her newfound freedom and wearily watched the blue froth draining from the open wounds. It was a peculiar reaction to anything that those boys might have resorted to casting…

Gertrudis  eyes widened as if reaching an epiphany and shrieked again, the sound muffled and indistinct on Raynor’s still far from functional ears. Instead, the Auror attempted to catch her break, gesturing at the injured Covi,

“She got in the way between some hitwizards' wands and a few runespoors.”

“I asked for assistance, girl. Assist.”

Moira tried to not show her slight annoyance at the woman's tone, or the fact that the term 'girl' had been used.  It passed quickly as the healer within her took over, and she followed them into the room.  She assessed the injured woman for a moment as she got settled, trying not to wince as another piercing, unidentifiable slew of words tumbled from her mouth.

From the looks of the injuries she would say one was definitely caused by some sort of spell.  However, the other on the woman's thigh gave her pause.  There was a something familiar about the blue foam coming from her leg, and it was certainly not related to any spell she had seen.  The other woman translated one of the previous statements she had not understood.

“She got in the way between some hitwizards' wands and a few runespoors.”

"I see," she said, her mind already starting a list of supplies as she stooped closer to examine the wound on the woman's thigh.  "Any idea as to what spells might have been used by the hitwizards?"

She doubted there would be an answer to that question.  It would most likely be relatively simple to heal, something to ensure there would be no infection and stitching up the woman's side.  She was more concerned about the venom in the woman's system as she awaited an answer.

Covadonga was breathing heavily at this point, the lavender color started to spread to her toes.  She flopped backwards onto the bed, hissing at the feeling of wanting vomit up her entrails and yet hungry enough to eat a Hibredean Black.  It burned in her so deeply it was a wonder she wasn’t dry heaving and ripping up the sheets beneath her into bite-sized pieces.  The witch put her hands up to her temples and squeezed hard, like she was trying to push out the confusing urges.

And then she noticed they had been… talking…

Now she was not only seething in pain, but by the blinding rage of not being listened to.  Did they not hear her?  Had she not scream LOUD ENOUGH?  Where was this woman’s wandwork, the salves, tonics, and guaze?  Why was she just staring?  Why wasn’t she moving one. bloody. inch?

“Any idea as to what spells might have been used by the hitwizards?”

At that she sat bolt upright, grabbed the young woman by the front of her robes and stared her straight in the eyes, her own turning quickly from a dark stormy blue to a pale ice.  “It is most likely I have been hit with something like an Effodio,” she started, her voice very, very clear and very, very calm, “which you know already weakens such a wound to begin with.”

It must have seemed frighteningly odd thing to see when a person went from screaming and wailing to calm and collected, although there was a distinct sense that this was just the top of the jack in-the-box and with every moment the handle was being cranked further… and further… and further… especially as her grip on the mediwitch's robes grew stronger and stronger until she was left with only her toes touching the ground... not a mild feat for someone so small.

“The slashes up on my side are an old magical wound.  The scars simply popped open when the spell went over it, hence the reason why my dress isn’t cut open over that as well,” she informed quickly, “it is also what kept the runespoor venom out of it.  As for my leg, however, you see that it was exposed.  I suspect I may be infected with at least two snakes full of it,” her eyes rolled back and jaw slackened for a moment, but Covi was determined to not let it get her, renewing her strong hold on the witch, “The old wound can wait, but now…” she took a deep labored breath.

“I suggest… you start… sucking,” her eyes finally rolling clear back to the whites and her hand relinquished its grip on the robes as she fell back into oblivion.

[[Let me know if I should change anything, or if he is too overbearing!]]

Jason was just leaving the Head Healer‘s office, stuck in a conversation with one of the other healer-in-charges, when someone came screeching around the corner, breathing fast and looking for him. Turning to the man, he cut off mid sentence and frowned, turning his body towards the way the man had come running. “Crazy… woman… blue… everywhere… Other… other…” Jason stared at the man for a brief moment before he took in a sharp breath. That didn’t explain anything, but…

He patted the man on the back, who was now slightly bent over and attempting to catch his breath with his elbows on his thighs, finally glancing back to the man he was having a conversation with. “I’ll talk to you later, Tom. Thank you for your recommendation.” Waving, he started to jog to the stairs, taking them two by two, finally reaching his floor and bursting out of the stairwell, intent on what the situation might be. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been able to come up with any idea what it could have been.

It was about when the door shut behind him that he heard loud noises. Another healer was jogging towards him as others were gathering outside a room, looking in. Where were his healers? A slight irritation came over him as he kept up his pace. “What happened, Linda?” She tried to explain, pointing out to the blue mess on the floor that was like a little trail for anyone who was deaf and unable to see the crowd ahead. At the very least, they would slip in it like Jason did, nearly landing on his back. Thankfully Linda grabbed his arm and helped him balance himself.

“Thank you for the… update.” She hadn’t really known a whole lot, a bit flustered from it all. Making it to the room, Jason frowned as he glanced over those in the room. Tamis? Blinking in slight surprise, his eyes moved to Moira and then finally to the one who was holding her rather tightly. Covadonga? Were those godforsaken sounds that he’d heard from the stairwell coming from her?

“-kept the runespoor venom out of it. As for my leg, however, you see that it was exposed. I suspect it may be infected with at least two snakes full of it-”

Runespoor?! Blinking a little, he ran over ingredients in his head before turning around and grabbing the nearest gawking spectator. “Josh.” The med witch looked to Jason with a slightly wide eyed expression. “I need a scalpel, three suture kits, collection chambers, and the Runespoor antidote.” Pausing, he gripped the man once more, frowning. “If you can’t find that, get me the flesh-eating slug venom… and a lot of fluid to flush it out with.” Sending the man running for the supplies, he turned back to the room in time to see Covadonga go limp.

Eyes wide, he jumped past the gaggle of people and started barking orders. “Moira, update me on the situation. Carol, get in here and help please, I will need someone I can trust with a steady hand. Linda!” As she came to the doorway, he thought a moment and pointed a finger towards her. “I sent Josh for supplies. Make sure he is getting them, and also grab blood replenishing potion. Thank you.” Applying a barrier to his hands, he nodded at Tamis. “Hello Tamis, how are you doing?” His eyes moved down to the woman before him, assisting Moira to lay her down a little more comfortable and not so flapped around.

Taking a look at the belt, he checked above it for a pulse, giving it a brief moment and nodding--it was a little weak, but it was still palpable. They had time. With his wand, he turned the light a little brighter, bringing it over the wound. “How did we run into Runespoor?” He didn’t know if he was allowed to find out those details of the case or not, so it was best to just ask. Patting Moira on the back, he gave her a grin. Best to keep the staff at ease…

Gritting her teeth, the Auror did her best to remain patient as Covadonga writhed in obvious agony. Some more decisive action should be happening.  An attempt to stem the bleeding or a blood replenishing potion to keep the loss from becoming dangerous or even pain relievers.  Just something less passive than scrutinizing the wound and asking for information that Tamis would have already supplied if she knew the answers. Her ears were still ringing and while she heard enough of the question the mediwitch asked, it came at a great distance.

They would not have used anything that would have produced that response. Tamis might have told her so, but at that moment, Covadonga reared up and took Raynor’s opinion of the woman up with her. Obviously in pain, it was commendable at how steadily she explained details to the witch that Raynor could not offer, how composed she tried to remain. It obviously took everything she had for the Department Head collapsed directly afterwards.

Runespoor venom. She almost cursed her own stupidity. Rightfully, if was information she should not have been expected to know. Her brief stint as a healer had been up with Plant Poisonings and Potions, a glorified herbologist. But, she had spent five years after December 1994 learning everything she could about the three-headed snakes and their illegal trade. She had even traveled to Africa in that first month. It had all been useless trivia in relation to her objective, but she had never once thought about researching what the symptoms of a runespoor infection looked like.

The Auror shifted to assist the fallen woman but at that precise moment Jason Marren darted into the room. She would wonder later if it was the assured way he took control of the situation or the shock of reacquainting with the man in such a way after all these years that knocked the anger out of her. She did her best to stay out of the way as a slew of Healers began to jump to Jason’s barks.

Briefly, the man met her gaze and she returned his nod, “I will feel better once she’s patched up.”

“How did we run into Runespoor?”

There was a notable hesitation before Tam responded. One that was neither due to ringing ears nor security issues. She wavered, throat constricting tightly, “We were pursuing suspected Runespoor smugglers.”

Since that information would be pertinent to the man’s career should more snake bites occur, Tamis was not restricted by confidentiality. But until now, she had tried not to muse about why the snakes were making a second debut. They had not made an appearance in England for fourteen years – not since Tait died shutting down the operation and she quit her job here at St. Mungo’s. It was almost too close to home.

Moira had been about to turn away when the injured woman grabbed onto her robes, holding her in place.  Too shocked to move, she couldn’t even call out for the aid of her coworkers on the floor.  She recovered quickly though, trying to loosen the woman’s grip to gather the quickly growing list of supplies and perhaps some help.  Where was everyone else anyway?

The woman had what seemed like an unbreakable hold on her robes and Moira could only listen as she spoke.  Short of yelling to be heard there was no interrupting the woman, and she didn’t want to cause any more of a commotion.  She was released as suddenly as she had been seized and just as she heard a familiar voice from behind her.

She wanted to sink into the floor at that very moment, how this must look to Jason.  She was supposed to be more then capable of handling these situations and this one had quickly gone from bad to worse.  She stepped back, helping him to straighten the injured woman out on the bed as he took control.  Part of her relieved, the other part all ready berating herself for allowing it to seem like she was not on top of the situation.

He was asking for an update then, and despite the fact he seemed to have as much information already as she did, she replied during the slight pause in his orders, “She has two injuries.  The one caused by the Runespoor is on her leg, and the one on her side is from an unknown spell that has most likely reopened an old magical wound.”  She spoke quickly and clearly, with the practice of one who was used to making succinct reports.  Without having additional details, there was no reason to continue.

He asked about how they had encountered the creature, and the other woman answered in such away that made Moira think there was a story behind her tone.  She didn’t have much time to reflect on it though, and when Jason patted her on the back with a grin she did her best to return it.  She was sure it looked forced, but she could worry about that later.  She had her wand ready, waiting for the supplies that should be arriving momentarily. 

“… scalpel, three suture kits, collection chambers, and the Runespoor antidote… update me on the situation. Carol… Linda!… ”  “… two injuries… Runespoor is on her leg, and the one on her side… an old magical wound…”  “…Tamis…?”  “… patched up…”  “…run into…?”  “… smugglers…”

The voices seemed to mesh and meld like a piece of fabric was slowly being weaved together.  Covi’s ears were quite keen to the situation, but her eyes… her eyes told a different story.  If one of the personnel were to look they would see them partially opened, but with only whites to be seen, a frightening sight to behold if one’s occupation was not to see such faces every day.  However, if it was someone they knew well enough who had their eyes thus, it would be hard to be as apathetic as they usually were.

Her lips were parted just so and were paling more and more by the second.  The witch’s breathing was shallow, but not strained.  Behind those eyes and ears and lips was a mind entirely calm.  She was in that glorious state of shock where one did not seem to feel anything at all.  It was an odd thing for Covadonga to not have to think actively, so she relished in just relaxing and listening to those voices.  It was like a nice enjoyable vacation.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t get too comfortable.

“She has two injuries. The one caused by the Runespoor is on her leg, and the one on her side is from an unknown spell that has most likely reopened an old magical wound.”

Nodding after she finished, Jason thought about the possibilities. They didn’t know the unknown spell… and it had been a while since Jason had worked in spell damage. However… Healing was healing, and he’d had a few years to figure things out. With the heirachy of the hospital set up as it was, Jason didn’t worry about whether or not Moira had handled the situation as best as she thought she could have. He was there, and as such, it was his duty to handle it.

A medi-witch was to assist healers, among their own duties, and the responsibility was more or less left in the hands of Healers (and even more so, Healer-in-Charges). He assumed, however, the blue tinged blood was from the unknown spell… If he didn’t need to act quickly, he would have enjoyed studying it more. Nonetheless… if he got Covadonga better, he could ask questions later. That would appease him.

“I will feel better once she’s patched up.”

“Then you should start feeling better soon.” Jason offered her his usual, easy going smile. Sure, the situation was odd, and the patient was now passed out, but the flow at least was being stemmed by the tourniquet that was made in the field. Perhaps if he had taken a moment or two to closer inspect, he would have found that the not so perfectly held up pants were worn by Tamis, and she might want her belt back.

“We were pursuing suspected Runespoor smugglers.”

Nodding, he grinned a bit boyishly. It felt good that they were taking recommendations seriously. Or at least looking farther into a St. Mungo’s matter. Or maybe Jason had it backwards, and they had all ready known about the Runespoor… In either case, he still felt good. As the supplies reached him, he let Moira get the potions ready. With sterile water, he flushed out her wound quickly, starting to stem some of the bleeding from areas he could tell. Bringing the light a little closer, he bent over the leg a bit, frowning as he focused.

“Start with the analgesic, please, and then give her the blood replenishing potion. Watch for reactions, and then proceed with the other potions. If she can’t swallow…” Shrugging, he glanced briefly at Moira. “Do what you must.” He was giving her the okay (a verbal order) to use magic to get it down. Muggles had barbaric contraptions to getting things into the body… Jason was fascinated and a bit unsure about them, in the end. Magic was much cleaner.

“Last thing we’ll administer is the Runespoor antidote… I want to clean it up as much as I can.” Nodding to Carol, he let her put a barrier to her own hands before steadying the leg. He cast a spell to help slow down the bleeding and began working on the wound while Moira did her thing. He trusted her; she’d somehow gotten this far without calling for help. He believed in a team effort, though. “Linda, keep a watch on her vitals, please.”

Once everything was underway, Jason loosened the belt a couple notches, stemming the bleeding from where it was coming from. With the antidote available, he took some of it and splashed it on the open wound before handing it over to Moira, bending back to work. As the old wound was a spell damage… the best he could do was patch it up (and he’d like to think he did a fine job) and close it. The suture kits came out about this time.

The wound was clean, the belt was loosened and the potions being given. “I’m going to patch the wound up, we’ll keep fluids going in, watch her vitals, continue to administer the antidote every twenty minutes for four hours…” Biting his lower lip as he applied a numbing spell to the skin around where he would be working, he thought a moment longer. “And we’ll keep her pain free for the next few hours. Once those four hours are up, she should be good to go.”

“Then you should start feeling better soon.”

A small smirk had begun to tug the corners of her mouth upwards, encouraged by Jason’s familiar brilliant smile and good humor.  However, the gravity of the situation quelled the hapless expression of goodwill and Raynor’s features settled back into their standard stoic mold, taking the mischievous flicker that had briefly illuminated her eyes with it. For that fraction of a millisecond, the woman that Tamis Raynor had once been, the one that had romped around Hogwarts with the likes of Jason Marren and Felix Dagon, resurfaced. But as quickly as she had come, she fled again back into the bitterly sarcastic woman that now exist, waiting as tolerantly as she could for Covadonga Gertrudis to be fixed.

Orders and commands flew around the Auror’s Head as she squeezed herself into a corner of the room to eliminate the possibility of her becoming a nuisance as much as possible. A rather successfully feat, considering how petite the woman was; if it was not for the fancy, sparkling uniform she had on, it would have been very easy to overlook her standing there. The pleased, sheepish grin Jason had flashed her surprised her, it was the complete opposite of the reaction she had expected – it was as if he had already known the snakes had resurfaced.

Tamis had not had any information on the case until Gertrudis had mentioned it. Not even a passing memo on her desk. She would have to have a little chat with the Head of Magical Creatures when she was well enough – and another little chat with the Head of her Department. If Belisario had kept this case from her, had tried to hide it … no. Now was not the time. She would take it out on him later.

Bodies clustered in around the fallen Department Head, each proceeding with the various tasks that had been assigned to them.  It was oddly nostalgic, provoking memories of her brief stint at Mungo’s. Not that Raynor ever regretted leaving the profession, being an Auror was her life.

“I’m going to patch the wound up…. continue to administer the antidote …. Once those four hours are up, she should be good to go.”

The tension in her shoulders finally relaxed (as much as Tamis Raynor ever ‘relaxed’) as she watched, almost bemused, as her belt was loosened. The news that the woman would recover improved her mood considerably. Despite the fact that the activity was beginning to wind down, Raynor still did not move much. However, she would never admit that it was because her pants were considerably looser than they should be.

[ All that wait and Tam ended up not doing much... sorry folks. ]

When the potions were brought into the room, Moira set to work preparing each one so they could be administered quickly and efficiently.  It also allowed the others to do their jobs as well.  She was vaguely aware of the conversation between Jason and Tamis as she focused on the work before her.  Carefully she set each one so she could administer them as instructed.
 
“Start with the analgesic, please, and then give her the blood replenishing potion. Watch for reactions, and then proceed with the other potions. If she can’t swallow…Do what you must.”
 
Moira nodded at him, taking the first potion in her hand.  She hated forcing potions down patient’s throats, but sometimes it had to be done.  She had gotten quite good at the spell from working with children who did not always take well to drinking various potions.  However, in those cases it was more about the lack of a pleasant taste, and not because they were in no condition to actually take the potions on their own.
 
We went about administering them as directed, using the spell.  She finished in time to take the antidote from Jason, placing it nearby so it could be easily retrieved in twenty minutes when it was time for the next dose.  As Jason spoke again she noticed the other woman seemed less tense.  Turning away for a moment, she gave her attention to Tamis.

“If you’re going to be waiting, is there anything I can get you in the mean time?” she asked, sure a day filled with trauma and some panic had taken it’s toll on the uninjured woman.

Once again the voices filtered through her now warm and fuzzy mind as the poison worked through her neurological system.

“… analgesic, please… blood replenishing… other…  Do what you must… antidote… I want to clean it up as much as I can… Linda…”

Hmm… Linda… A good Spanish name.  Must be a pretty little witch, the prize of the family.  The voice was pretty…

Then she felt an odd sense of pressure as hands and spells and treatments rained down on her body, head to foot, and another voice--much softer now--went through her head, clear as a bell.

“If you’re going to be waiting, is there anything I can get you in the mean time?”

“Hmm?” this time her mumblings were finally able to make the travel from her mind to her lips.  Covadonga’s eyelids fluttered, her eyes rolling about the back of her head as she struggled to regain consciousness.  She was suddenly terrified of that warmth, that odd sense of comfort that she had never felt.  Well… maybe she had felt it at one point or another, but she certainly couldn’t remember it.

She weakly coughed a couple times, thoroughly confused as to why she tasted petunias and ammonia, and moaned quizzically again.  She didn’t want to be on vacation any longer, but the Floo Network seemed to be shut down.  Thoroughly annoying.