"Yeah, I know." Ron gave Harry an emphatic shrug - he didn't think he was lying, and he was pretty sure Harry knew it. But he wasn't about to buy the story, all the same. He must have been mistaken, because it just didn't make any sense. ... Not that help from some Death Eater they'd never met was easy to puzzle out, either.
But now they were here, and for a little while, at least, they didn't need to sit around trying to figure out why they hadn't been brutally murdered. They could have a sandwich, and put on something that didn't smell like it had been out in the woods for months, and stop worrying. Or try, anyway. For some reason, the fact that Hermione had lost her wand was hanging over him and making him much more tense than he thought he should have been. Even when they weren't talking about it, it made it harder for him to know what to say - like trying not to step on the toes of someone who's sick relative had just died, or something. He didn't know what to make of it.
"Fantastic," he said with a smile, refraining for the moment from ducking out from under Bill's arm to go fight for a new shirt; Harry would probably leave him something. "It's been ages since we've had anything that's seen soap. - Or a proper sandwich. Or cake." Or anything. "You've got a nice place," he said quietly, when the thought suddenly struck him. Best he'd seen in a while, anyway.