She laid her head on his shoulder and pulled at his maimed arm so that it settled around her shoulders. She stiffened as the stump brushed against her arm through her jersey, but he didn't blame her. It made people nervous, like they didn't know where to look or what to say. Wary about touching it, like it was infectious somehow. Draco had gotten used to that – he had mostly gotten over the pride and shame that made him bristle at peoples" reactions. Besides, the only people he saw these days were the Order members, and they didn't even seem to notice his arm anymore. It was just part of him. And they...accepted him.