Neville put his hand over Hannah's for a moment, trying to reassure her. He looked at Gran, but she was too busy arranging the bread basket and the pasta pot to return his gaze.
Neville finally sat down. Hannah was nervous, but Neville felt easily just as anxious. What if Gran said something? What if she drove Hannah out of here in tears? Neville wanted this night to go well. He would settle for false kindness at this point.
Aberforth opened the pot of pasta and picked up a ladle. "Pass your plates this way and I'll serve. Neville, pass the bread basket to your girl, will you?"