William stopped batting Pete's hands away and finished smoothing his collar down, for all the good that did. "Brain food," he answered automatically. "Lower glycemic index, and afternoon glucose." Which was the handy excuse they all used for the fact that an unkindness of Ravenclaws could put away more chocolate mousse and boxes of truffles than anyone else in the castle.
William gave Pete a once-over, checking that he was whole and healthy as well as observing that his hair was back. It had been a week since they'd held each other's eyes, after all, there were a few changes to note.
"Hello," he said belatedly. "Thank you. Are you heading back to Gryffindor? All of yours accounted for yet?"