It's fine. His hand can slide to her waist to make anyone passing think they're just a pair of tipsy lovers. It's odd, he thinks. He never realized Obliviate acts almost as an ice cold shower when it came to sobering up, he thinks. It's not worth it, but.

"...We must have," he says, murmuring in her ear. "No one else could have, right? Not here." Because he might be more comfortable in Muggle London than her, but only by a miniscule degree. That's how it was for most witches and wizards. Wizarding and Muggle worlds weren't meant to mix.

He chuckles a little as Bella suddenly laughs, and it's a little rueful. "Let's get back," he says. "And - Malfoy Manor, tonight. I'm not sure I wish to see Rodolphus' face just now, mm?"