"Are you arguing semantics with me?" Hermione asks, thoroughly amused by the mere prospect of someone actually doing such a thing. "Either way, I wouldn't recommend bacon to anyone. It tastes all right, I suppose, but it's so greasy and unhealthy that it should be a rare indulgence, or else a last resort when nothing else is available."

It does remind her that there aren't any local stores where she can just pop in and buy a package of bacon and prepare it for Anders or anyone else who might want it, but she tries not to think about that, especially when he seems to be saying that they're far enough away to be able to start practicing. Anxiously rubbing her hands together, she looks back towards the camp, asking, "Are you sure? I'd hate for something to happen and for-... well, for you to get in trouble, or any such thing. Not that I'd let you, of course. I just wouldn't want anyone thinking I'd done anything on purpose." Or that he'd tried to do something on purpose, given how recently certain wounds had been reopened concerning his past.