She was used to thinking of the Slytherins as the rich kids; most of them had certainly flaunted it enough during school. But things had changed since the war and she paused at his comment, piecing it together. She didn't comment, but she resolved to ask for the check at the end.
She let him fasten the bracelet on her wrist before drawing her hand back and opening up the menu. "Hermione is my friend," she reminded him, as a warning against insulting her. "Though I can't say that I mind that you don't want to take her to dinner." She looked over the menu. She'd expected it, but staring at a menu full of Italian words was still daunting. She recognized a few that had crept into the English language via the culinary trade, but mostly, it was a page of elegant scripted gibberish.
She closed the menu, giving him a rueful look. "You can either spend twenty minutes explaining the menu to me, or you can just decide. I don't care for anything with peppers or that's been drowned in cream."