"Susan if I grow any more I'm going to hit my head every time I walk through a door!" he said. He was already tall enough that particularly low doors were a problem and sometimes he just ducked anyway. He frowned at her admitted problems with gruesome cases. "I hate when things keep me up too much, I hope it'll settle down a bit soon." He reached over and patted her hand, unable to do much more from this side of the table. "No need to worry about me getting enough for a couple of months. My therapist suggested me taking my potion daily for a while until I get some distance from Ophelia."
He blinked at her, unable to decipher her words. From context it was probably another book thing, but not one he knew. "If you say so," he said, clearly displaying his lack of understanding, sure Susan will fill him in.
He listened as Susan spoke, mentally protesting so many of her points, but unable to really deny them aloud either. He swallowed a couple of times and shrugged. "Not losing my best friend," he said. Yes, supporting Seamus through heartbreak would hurt him, but he'd do it happily. "I mean I'd rather he wasn't hurting either, but mostly I just want to not lose my friend," he said. He shrugged again and shovelled up the last of his lasagne enthusiastically, mostly so he could attempt to ignore Susan's comments, which were as astute as ever.
"Well, the party's good, as long you're leaving my room free in case I want to hide out," he said, well aware she'd never deprive him of his hidey-hole. "And honestly, I don't know who Lucy is, but sometimes I well, not judge you for being rich, but I'm envious or resentful maybe." He held up his hands. "I know, I know, the way you came by the money was fucking awful and I'd never actually say you shouldn't have it, but you know, I didn't exactly grow up well-off, and it's a bit hard to comprehend sometimes."