Luna had been given first go at the bathroom, possibly because she'd been the one stuck in basements for the longest. The others had at least moved around a bit more, even if it hadn't been particularly comfortable. Or perhaps it had been so she could coax the pet mouse out of her hair and into the shoebox she'd been provided as a temporary cage for him. Either way, Luna had missed most of the conversation.
She returned now with clean hands and face, and holding a small box with a scrabbling mouse in it, to encounter the owner of the house returning. She felt unusually uncomfortable; she remembered Bill Weasley, of course. She'd grown up near the Weasleys, if not friends, and she had been invited to his wedding. But this was an odd situation, even for her. "Oh, hello," she greeted, glancing at him and her three friends. "I hope you won't mind Barnabas," she commented, lifting the box slightly, forgetting for a moment that he'd missed the moment his wife had seen the mouse peeking out of her hair.