"Thank you," he said. Hermione was definitely better at brewing potions than he was. Any bit of help that he could get was welcomed and appreciated. "I'll be happy to oblige as soon as my body decides to cooperate," he said, finishing up the sandwiches. He brought the plates over to the table and sat one in front of Hermione and the other at his usual seat.
He slid into his chair and laughed. "Maybe I have," he shrugged. "Sometimes they just look like a 'Bob' or a 'Carla'." It was true. As for responding, he tilted his head. "Well, some can," he said. "Though that would be bad. Like a mandrake," he smirked. "If you want to call the screaming noise of doom a response."