Theodore half-turned and abandoned his spoon for a moment to pull his hair down in front of his ears (it was sorely in need of a trim).
"Melinda Annalise Bobbin, if you turn sideways we might lose you forever!" He chided with a terrible attempt at a falsetto, cocking his head as he imagined a nagging mother might. He had very little experience with mothers, much less those that nagged, but he enjoyed the idea of them. People with mothers were luckier than they knew. Quick as you like, he dropped the façade and then turned back to the food, docilely serving himself out a meal.
"I am perfectly all right," he said, forcing his voice into a tone of indifference. He barely noticed that she was closer -- despite all outward appearances, Theodore had no objections to proximity, touch, or anything else his usual tendencies as a loner might suggest. He was still angry, but there was no reason to sully a conversation. "And the Leaky Cauldron serves surprisingly palatable food. How's the wine?"