"That's just you," Harry says.

"...You're gonna have to work that one out on your own time. Anyway. You sure you don't want any healing potions or anything for all the living hell you get beaten out of you?"

"My problem with the idea is that Harry is constantly being injured, and it doesn't usually decrease his operating effectiveness," Livingstone explains. "Maybe we could take a few for cases where we're literally going to die in a few minutes unless our wounds are treated, but if Harry took a potion every time he was stabbed in the kidney or broke several bones, he'd be out in a month."

"You're not wrong," Harry muses. "Though I would take a few."

"Sounds perfect. When would they expire?"

"If I seal them up, never. They do have to be stored in glass though, so they might get smashed while you're breaking several bones..."

He shakes his head. "I have experience keeping potion bottles secure. It'd help if you could decant it into a specific bottle, though - what kind of volume are we talking about?"

She gestures. "Per dose." It's about a quarter cup.

"Thank you! These will probably be very handy. What kind of injuries do they, um, cover? As a general benchmark?"

"They will not cover even the sort of curses that are native to my world and I wouldn't expect them to touch nasty magic from yours; they are strictly for physical folding, spindling, and mutilation. If Livingstone's hurt he can drink them too. They will not regrow limbs but if you take one instantly on getting hurt it might cover like a toe. Might. If you are well enough to take one you will not be dying any more after doing it; if somebody has to pour it into your mouth it's dicier but you'll have longer to get to the hospital."

"Sweet!"

"The next person who breaks all of your ribs will be in for a marginally more unpleasant surprise than usual," Livingstone agrees.

"I do recommend them for concussions in particular if that's a problem you also have because accumulated brain damage is no one's friend."

"That's actually much less of a problem than it would be for a standard-issue human," Harry says. "Wizards recover perfectly from injuries, according to a friend of mine. We don't necessarily regenerate faster, but our wounds don't get infected as a rule, and scars disappear after a few years of natural healing. The same goes for the brain; if the damage is at all recoverable, I'll eventually recover. Cumulative damage isn't so much a thing."

"Conveniently so," notes Livingstone. "By rights he shouldn't be able to walk."

"Oh. Well, then, save them for the many occasions when you are about to die, by all means."

"I believe we will. Thank you for them; we'll try to die slightly less than we would in normal circumstances."

"Unless we have to eat another ghost," Harry says. "Extenuating circumstances."

"...Eat a ghost?"

"There was a particularly unpleasant ghost, dubbed 'the Nightmare' who was riling up local spirits, psychically mutilating innocents, et cetera," Livingstone explains. "Harry was under some stress and decided that the best way to deal with this ghost would be to kill himself, temporarily become a ghost, and fight it on its own turf. He ended up eating it and taking its power for his own."

"Only for a few hours," Harry protests. "I don't still have evil ghost magic floating around inside me! I am one hundred percent Harry Dresden and the totally normal magic thereof."

"...I don't have anything that might possibly help with future ghost-eating situations, sorry."