Theodore's small smile grew, just a little. There was something behind Blaise's expression, and he wasn't entirely sure what it was, but he didn't suspect Blaise of having it in for him. It wasn't as though he had done anything to earn it, after all; he made a point not to rustle anyone's feathers. He didn't want to take the Mark unless he absolutely had to, in order to preserve as much of his freedom as he could.
"I'd like that," he said. It felt almost like old times again, in school, when they'd all been close but often stepped warily around each other at the same time. He'd always liked Blaise, but they had distinctly different viewpoints on certain things, different motivations - and he hadn't seen his friend in a long while.
He looked good, though. Older and wiser, but not in a bad way. Hell, Theodore had grown up in the time since he'd seen Blaise, too. "I'm off work early today, in two hours, and I'm not doing anything else -" meaning his own private memorial for his mother's death- "Until much later. Time enough for dinner and drinks, though the rest of this week is fine too."
They were so formal, it was strange. But then, neither of them had ever been particularly sentimental, not tending towards nostalgia, or admitting to having missed anyone. In truth, though, Theodore had missed all of his friends, missed people whose motivations he was more sure of, politically speaking. Not that he ever really brought up politics, but at least with Marked Death Eaters, he generally knew where he stood.