While the spells are appreciated, the dragon blood is well on its way out. Gellert gently, but firmly, pushes Albus away and staggers outside to rid himself of the brew. Blood, strangely, cannot be digested by a human stomach, at least, and so it must come out one way or another. Once his stomach stops screaming in protest, Gellert waves a hand cleaning the mess away with an unspoken spell. He also uses a similar spell to wash out his mouth.

"Albus..." he stumbles back to the man, pale, shaky and looking feverish, yet triumphant nonetheless, "It's gone."