Oddly, Parvati was envious of the tears down his cheeks. Her best mate had been murdered, and she'd yet to shed a single tear. Perhaps she had no feelings, no ability to mourn. She was beginning to realize she really was as cold-hearted as the front she put on.
She leaned against her knees, not looking much at him, just as he did the same to her. Sometimes it was better to be in another's company while really being alone. You looked less lonely to passerby's that way. Instead she tug the toe of her shoe in to the dirt, looking unsatisfied with life.
"I would ask if you were doing okay, but I'm tired of people asking me the same," she said finally after another moment of silence. She knew there was nothing anyone could ask or say that would begin to encompass how Neville was feeling. All anyone could seem to muster the courage to ask her was if she was doing fine. The answer to that was rather obvious, so why did they even bother to ask?