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At first, he thought the cuddling head of hair belonged to that of a small child, perhaps run free of a mother's unwatchful eye. But as soon as the kittenish purr escaped, Drystan was immediately bemused. Despite whatever other Quidditch players might have experienced, and his own brief foray with the confused mother-to-be of 1980, Drystan's followers were very well-behaved. Bess, certainly, may not have approved of them, and that did warm his heart ever-so-slightly, but he'd never had problems with girls throwing themselves at him. It was for this reason he did not immediately throw her off his arm, believing her to have some logical reason for such a forward greeting. This did not, of course, stop him from shifting Stephen ever so slightly to his right, away from the stranger.

"I--I'm sorry," he glanced over the lady's person, seeing no identifying tags of any sort, "do you work for the pediatrics division?"