Theodore took a moment to run his fingers over a fresh blossom, enjoying the feeling of growth and life; it was nice that places like these still existed, small blips of the past hidden away in Diagon, places where it was still green and the sunlight came through soft and warm. He enjoyed this kind of scenery, and he appreciated being outdoors for his meals. It was beautiful and he missed beauty. He missed a great many things, but melancholy wasn't the appropriate emotion for a nice meal in pleasant company.
Aunt Amelia. So she was related to Amelia Bones. How unfortunate. Theodore only knew of her what he'd read in the papers -- Department head, ugly murder -- but there was always the worm of discomfort at the pit of his stomach that she could have been someone that his father had killed in his desperate attempts to please the Dark Lord. It wasn't a nice thought, and thought he pushed it away, it struggled back to the surface.
A menu distracted him, at first, and he slid his glasses free of their inner pocket, settling them onto his nose so he could read. Standard fare, some of it simple and precisely what Theodore wanted. He flipped it over to look at the wine list and toyed with his robes with a free hand before remembering to ask.
"Do you mind if I have cigarette?" It was enjoyable being with someone new, but there were always niggling details that had to be hashed out, liberties he had with other friends that needed to be checked.