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The Apparation point was still a stone's throw away, but he'd been tempted to take hold of her early. From the moment he saw her, he'd been looking for a reason. Letters did little justice to the friendship they shared. He could travel and refuse to face reality, but it was always there when he came home; the longing, the emptiness. Touching her brought a peace he hadn't felt since the day she'd left him for adventure.

"Hold on," Basil suggested unnecessarily and his grip tightened and he pressed his side to hers. With a light pop, the pair vanished, reappearing in the back alleys of Covent Garden. His loft was a block away, a magical addition atop an old pub. It was magical itself, but served Muggle patronage and kept a low profile as such.

Shaking off the disorienting post-travel swirl, Basil blinked and watched his surroundings settle. Releasing Rose with a frown, he flexed his fingers as they were innundated with a chill. "Come on," he didn't stop to analyze the loss, exiting the protected alleyway and turning the corner. Two shops down stood the ancient Lamb & Flag. Pointing above it, Basil looked toward the second story, "My flat," he shrugged. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he nodded toward the street post and the small signed tacket to it, reading Rose Street</8>, "'S'why I took the place."