The gentle touch warmed him. He was particular about who touched him, but Astoria's fingers didn't bother him. Realizing he enjoyed her soothing came as a relief to him. It wasn't that he didn't like her. It wasn't even that he could never see himself marrying her, but they were from such different periods. The Draco she knew wasn't the Draco in the village. He was a version of his other self and he wasn't sure how to keep up a contest with his own person. However, as crappy as the last week was, Draco was glad it brought him and Astoria closer. "You are here," he reminded her. "Dealing with all the sick and injured isn't exactly easy. I've wanted to run away at least every hour." He reached out then to rest his hand on the nape of her neck. "That is brave." Not everyone could be a bloody Gryffindor.