It was a fine day for going out; Theodore wasn't usually especially fond of the sun unless he was surrounded by greenery, and the days in which he could pop off for a nice walk in the hills were long gone. He had no garden, he had no stables, no acres of land to meander through at his leisure. Just a flat in the middle of an Alley in the middle of Muggle London, where the only greenery was the occasional tree, put in by urbanites clinging to a distant biological desire to be near plant life. The few plants he had in his flat were a mere shadow of what he once enjoyed, and though no good ever came of clinging to the past, he found he preferred grey days. Today, though, the light rain had eased, and the warmth of an afternoon settled down into his dark robes, wrapping him up and making itself impossible not to enjoy. So he relented, and basked a bit, following Susan's lead to what sounded a promising destination.
"She's right. My most pleasant memories are of places I found by chance and never found again. A single unique event, forever flavoured by a desire to return to that place again. You're lucky you can remember where it is."