"It's nothing," Harry answered. His first impulse was to jerk his hand away, but he tamped down on it, letting her take his hand and scooting grudgingly over on the log they used as a makeshift bench for the table, giving her room to sit. "Just a splinter." Which he had to yank out, but couldn't with her hanging on his hand.
It didn't really hurt. The bruised knuckles actually stung more than the little splinter. Harry didn't like pain, but he was tougher than he looked.