Susan had been expecting Weasley to say something snarky in return, or at least chastise her or something. He looked bloody awful too, and was shivering.
The fact that he barely noticed it was her he was ordering is around in a businesslike fashion showed just how ill he really must be. And in all seriousness, the things he were asking her to do were truly normal functions, and not just work for the sake of keeping her occupied.
She took her own mental notes. "I can get whatever's needing to be signed from your desk. I can also get accounts to send things here - but isn't there anyone else authorised who can sign things in your absence?" She was sure the medi-witches would not like a constant flow of visitors or even papers.
Looking over to Cass, she actually worried for them both, as they were as pale as each other. "Of course, you both realise the sooner you admit you're sick, you'll start to get better, and then you can overwork yourselves to death yet again."
"And don't worry about Plato. I'll make sure he's fed and walked."