Roger snorted, looking down at the feet in his lap. After the Great Toe Hair Pulling Incident of 2001, Ben never let any of them see his Hobbit feet without a wand at the ready. He turned and looked at Bob, who looked quizzically back before wandering off to explore the kitchen for any crumbs that Roger had missed cleaning up.
"Well he hasn't been here for a few weeks has he," Roger replied with a smirk. "Plus this place is very much free of Mussolini-esque kittens and their reigns of terror." He returned Ben's long look with a half smile and a quirked eyebrow. "I am on the mend. Potions and a regime of stretches designed to help my muscles unclench and heal themselves around the injured spots, it's done me the world of good." He waved away Ben's apology with a smile. "I have had a few visitors yeah," he said with narrowed eyes. "What did you hear?"