Braeden raised his dark eyebrows at Deus and smiled with amusement and gratefulness as Deus explained how he had put effort into preparing their meal. To any other sane person, it would have probably seemed like the Ravenclaw boy had made no effort at all but just bossed a few innocent house-elves around; however, Brae knew Deus. And he understood that in Deus's world, that was making an effort, and that was some serious picnic planning. So he appreciated his friend's efforts, Deus-like as they were.

The Gryffindor boy gulped down the first half of his sandwich before taking a sip from the butterbeer Deus had just served for them (successfully managing to give himself a butterbeer mustache on his upper lip), and listening as his Ravenclaw friend asked what had happened to him these past couple weeks.

"Well… it was my fault, really. I got a cold and I thought I could just prepare a remedy for it," started Braeden with a shrug. "So I went into the potions dungeon while it was empty and prepared my remedy - I followed every step in the book, I swear! I don't know what went wrong, but whatever potion I ended up making actually made my cold about ten times worse…" finished the boy with furrowed brows, his brown eyes staring at the fruit in a bowl as if expecting the fruit to explain to him where he'd gone wrong. But at least he was well now. That was all that mattered.

"Don't worry about it," said Brae as he dismissed the subject with his free hand, a smile on his face as Deus tried to explain himself. "The nurse was nice enough, and the house-elves were even kind enough to bring me everything and anything I wanted fresh from the kitchen - behind the nurse's back, of course. She would have probably purposely made my illness worse if she found out I wasn't sticking to her diet… But she wanted me to have nothing more than soup and a nasty potion that tasted like earwax! Can't blame a growing boy for wanting fish and chips..."