"They had to work," Neville grimaced, ignoring the question about his head. "They send apologies and some kind of... meat, thing." He handed her the cold platter he'd been balancing precariously on one hand. "And, um..." he fished around in his pockets before drawing out a tiny bouquet of flowers. When he enlarged them with his wand, a couple of them drooped in protest. "Peace offering," he explained.