Nev shook his head, a little smirk creeping up his lips. "You know me... always got birds clamouring about..." He grinned a bit and leaned back in his chair, trading Harry's fresh round for the old, now empty pint in his hands. Merlin, he didn't think he was drinking fast enough. The more of his friends that were about made him more nervous.
"How's work, then?" he asked Ron, his hand reaching up to brush through is hair, desperate for a subject change, because birds reminded him that he didn't like them, that he didn't know if Ron knew he didn't like them, though he was pretty sure Ron knew that Harry didn't like them and Ron and Harry were best mates and he knew that even if Ron knew that Neville didn't like birds, Ron probably wouldn't fault him for that, because Ron knew Harry didn't like birds, and maybe Ron knew Harry knew Neville didn't like birds - and Hermione probably knew because she was intuitive, or something like that, and women knew these things, right?
Sometimes, Neville hated his inner monologue. It worried more than he did aloud.