She pulls a little face, not a real frown but definitely an eyeroll. "Ah, the Potter sense of humour," she quips dryly, as a nuisance probably would.

She pokes his leg with her toes under the table, and takes a sip of tea. Just the way she likes it, too. There's something so perfect and wonderful about the fact that Harry knows how to make her tea, even years after the last time they went camping, that it makes her settle with a sigh and forget all the things she was ready to ramble about.

She does fixate on something, though. "You said you missed friends - have the others not visited?"