This wasn't a bad idea, was it? After all, it was food. Ron knew food. Food in general was sort of like his secret lover, the one that he snuck off to see during various hours of the day while Quidditch was distracted with Quidditch-like distractions. He loved it to death and there was absolutely no way in the world that he was going to ruddy well let the presence of his best mate/future wife ruin his outing. At least not until he finished scarfing down whatever it was that he planned on getting. Because in all honesty, Ron was starving. Or he had extreme butterflies. Whatever the case, he was going to find a way to fix his problem and hopefully fast, as he found that he wasn't terribly fond of the feeling in his gut.
Hermione had beaten him outside. Running his fingers through his ginger fringe, Ron moved to her and forced a bit of an awkward smile. "Er, so what is it that you want to eat, anyway?"