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Harry James Potter (sonofastag) wrote in wished,

Harry glared briefly at Ron, though it was half-hearted. He KNEW he sounded like a nutter. But he also knew what he'd seen. He hated Snape. He didn't trust him. But he was certain that it had been Snape who got them out of their. "I don't know, all right? I saw him do that shite too. I'm not daft." He was really tired of being the only one who saw something though. "It'd be nice if you'd just take my word on it," he muttered. "It's not like I usually lie my head off." Well. Not to Ron, anyway.

He followed Fleur out, rubbing at his eyes and smiling a crooked, somewhat tense hello at Bill. "We can make our own. You don't have to wait on us or anything," he offered quickly. It was one thing when Molly wanted to take care of him, when Harry was at the Burrow. She was a mum-sort. Fleur was. . . well. Fleur.

Plus if she served Ron a sandwich, he might choke or something.

"Oh - clothes. Cheers, mate, thanks," he told Bill, stepping up to look at the clothes - which they all sorely needed.