"Pricey drink," he murmured, though he didn't mind paying. He would have forced the money upon her if she had tried to let it slip by unpaid for. He shifted enough to be able to shove his hand into his coat pocket, pulling out the handful of muggle money he had snatched from his counter top. He counted it out, before looking at the remainder in his hand. Without saying a word, he slid all of it across to Hermione. He felt as if she needed it. He didn't understand why she needed to stay away from their society and hide, but she clearly needed money, otherwise she'd not be working here. And he had a feeling his brother was still by her side most of the time, so he wanted to ensure he could help them as best he could, even if he didn't understand.
"Better than?" He repeated, his eyes lifting in a moment of sheer curiosity. But she seemed to want to move on and he sighed, nodding his head. He certainly felt more justified in tipping her well now.
"Doesn't feel right, talking here," he stated before he reached out, taking hold of his drink. He felt as if he needed it now. "Where's Ron?" He asked suddenly.
All he could think now was questions pertaining to Ron, as the wave of memories came to him of his little brother, the images that he so often suppressed in order to not get angry. So that he wouldn't miss him as much as he did.