Harry had opened his mouth to answer, but then the crack of apparation had him starting, wand out before he even registered who it was. Harry had good reflexes, and reason to be jumpy, after all. He relaxed when he saw who it was though, tucking his wand away again. "Professor," he greeted. He saw the way his hand was tucked away, but didn't comment. He wasn't really eager to see it again anyway - it was a stark reminder of the fact that Dumbledore was neither immortal, nor infallible. He'd rather he still believed the old man could do anything, even if he never understood his reasons.
He was slower to respond that Hermione, ending up perched on the arm of a chair rather than really sinking into it, fingers toying nervously with the worn knee of his trousers. "Mrs. Weasley's not in, Professor. . . I'm sure Ron could make you some chocolate, if you want though," Harry offered, throwing Ron a small, smug grin.