“Of course,” he said instead, taking a small step towards the red-head. Lissington fumbled to put his wand away again and Basil let out a deliberate breath. “Lissing…” he intoned, ever so gently as if he were handling a fragile child. “What… what was that? Are you, alright?” He gave the other a meaningful look, one he hoped Lissing wouldn’t ignore in avoidance. Did something happen you want to tell me?
Of course, very likely, the other could shut that door with a slam in his face. Lissington very well might not want to share his deepest darkest secrets with Basil anymore, and he had every right. But… Basil hoped he might. Even if just so that he could be there… if Gus ever needed him.
“Y-you know you can tell me, if you ever need to.” Basil shifted a little uncomfortably. “Despite… the history we’ve decided to bury, I am in your corner.” He tried to be reassuring, but wasn’t sure if it was apt. There was something just so intimate about talking through one's boggart that made Basil both want to hold back and dig in deeper. I would never let anything happen to you that was within my power to control, he thought desperately. The words were on the tip of his tongue too (and Basil had just about released them) when he decided, instead, to see what Lissington had to offer. There was no need to be dramatic, preemptively.