"There are more biscuits. But first, dinner." Harry assurd after watching Neville bin the uneaten one, giving his leg a reassuring pat before moving back to the food, fixing his friend up a nice steaming hot bowl of egg drop soup.
"Come on mate, it's still hot." He said, dipping a spoon into the soup and handing it to Neville before cracking open a butterbeer for him as well. He fixed himself with some sweet and sour pork and the order of cream cheese wantons he loved getting.
Although he felt bad for his friend, he was sort of glad that he knew what was really going on in Neville's life. And excited, more than anything, that he finally knew someone else who fancied blokes. Okay, so he'd known Neville for years. Bur neither of them had ever been the most forthcoming with the most intimate details of their lives, so it wasn't a huge surprise that Neville hadn't really said anything. He couldn't help but be curious, though.
"So...how'd you get together with this Mathers bloke? I seem incapable of meeting anyone." He finally approached the subject; he'd almost added the word 'decent', but that didn't really fit since it would insinuate that Mathers had been decent, which certainly didn't seem to be the case. He vaguely thought of slipping him one of George's many prank items, but thought Neville might not appreciate that.