If she notices his scars, she doesn't seem to be bothered by them - rather, it brings back memories of her fingers running over his skin, her lips pressing against the few she'd been able to find before they had rolled into bed together. She has a horrible double standard about scars; hers are disgusting, his give him character.

His touch garners her attention and she glances up at him, pulled out of her thoughts of immeasurable nights woken up shouting from bad dreams. Really, she ought to see someone - a healer, something; but that would be admitting a weakness and she'd always been the strong one, the one who could handle anything. Not to mention any move she took would be dutifully reported by the press; it was impossible to do anything quietly anymore, even if she smacked them with libel and slander suits.

"I can?!" She blurts out before she can stop herself, eyes widening before she flushes dark pink. "That is, control them. I hadn't thought that there was anything I could do; magic regarding dreams is so hit-or-miss, not to mention unstudied.."

There was a slight hint of the old Hermione Granger there, the one who would do anything to get her hands on a book, the insufferable know-it-all. Lifting her opposite hand, she presses it on top of his, trying to look less hopeful and more .. together. "I'd appreciate it. It might make my stay here a bit more tolerable for you, as well."