In response to his half-bow, Bryony dropped a polite curtsy before she turned to set the pies out on the dishes and scoop out a portion of ice cream for them both. "You don't have to thank me," she told him, not sure whether he was grateful for the food, the company, her attempt to comfort him through his shock or all three. It didn't really matter. "You've very welcome, as always." She picked up a plate in each hand and stood uncertainly in place. "Kitchen table or the living room?" she asked. Her mother would be scandalised, but many snacks received from the house-elves in her early years meant Bryony was less formal about where she ate than she really should be.
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