Was that relief he felt? It was. Like, er, magic, Susan's words washed over him: don't even have to leave Diagon, and the knot at the pit of his stomach loosened. There'd be no dodging Muggle cars, no confused staring at maps, no traffic signs, no dozens upon dozens of people at each and every turn. Just Diagon. Right outside, and familiar enough to the point of boredom -- it was exactly what he needed right now. And wanted.
When he smiled, it was an honest one that crinkled up under his eyes. "Sounds perfect."
Quick pat down -- wallet, wand, glasses. He ordinarily left the latter behind, but after a few jibes from friends earlier in the week, he supposed Susan didn't really want to be out with someone who had to hold the menu barely an inch from his nose to choose a food. Around here that usually wasn't an issue, he'd tried out most of the restaurants, but if she really had found a secret, tucked away place, he'd be frowning over blurry words and looking incredibly foolish. Not quite the impression he wanted to make.
"I've found," he said, shutting the door behind them and heading for the stairs (that rickety lift made him nervous), "that Diagon is quite the treasure trove for businesses. They seem to spring up overnight. I've lived here for several years now and I'm still discovering new shops."