"It's all right," he murmured, watching her, a little bemused - and quickly losing a fight with his growing smile. "I remembered that much, I think. Whatever she managed to push through my head on the first day generally stayed ..." He trailed off. He was disinclined to talk about what he didn't know, at the moment, and watching her concentration was more enjoyable in any case. He didn't meet a lot of people who felt comfortable simply taking his hand and studying it, and he was very glad he'd happened across her. He was looking back at her with a faint sort of amusement when she lifted her face.
His eyes dropped to the paint on his hand immediately. "Oh - yes ..." Yes, I've just forgotten to wash my hands. Brilliant. The scar was a little less embarrassing, at least. "That's from chopping wood, actually. The Muggle way. The first couple times I did it were a little - a little rough." He resisted the ridiculous urge to tell her he was good at it now.