Harry has a sneaking suspicion that he's being mothered right now, but he's been awake since before four in the morning, so he's not going to protest. He falls into step beside Feuilly and wipes that stray bit of soap froth out of his hair, and then-- just before they pass into the main room, while they're still in the solitude of the kitchen (the rats having largely dispersed upon realizing that this Harry, unlike the other one, would only be providing entertainment in the form of spilling soapy water everywhere, which is really only funny the first time) edges up close enough to bump his shoulder against Feuilly's and plant a playful kiss on his cheek. Hello, good morning.