August 16th, 1890

Dear Zachariah,

Was it truly only yesterday that we parted? The hours between then and now have dragged on endlessly. At least I've work to keep busy, as I'm sure you know. They've made an interesting discovery in my absence. There's an obvious entryway into a tomb but no door to be found. Apparently, for the last week they've been tapping on each brick in the hopes of triggering a reaction of sorts. There's been no such luck yet, but I've now been granted the wonderful task of tapping.

Forgive me, I'm rambling.

I hope you've settled in well by the time you receive this. Was your trip back to Hogsmeade okay? I know portkey travel never does get any easier. Did the shop manage in your extended absence? Was there an uptick in business after the festival? Did the buyer enjoy the book we picked up in Corfu? It's funny, I can nearly picture your blush should anyone ask you about that island. I hope you've a better poker face than that I witnessed during our card game. Lord knows I don't have one. (Please, know I mean this only in jest. Letters can be so hard to read sometimes.)

Although I've no inkling as to when we might be able to meet again, I was thinking our next adventure might take us further into Africa. One of my colleagues raves about a safari tour where they came face to face with giraffes! And they also view lions from a safe distance, as well as a great many other wild animals. It won't be as relaxing or private as Corfu, but it would be an adventure all the same. In the new year sometime, perhaps. I swore to Kamal that I would request no personal time until after the holidays to be able to visit with you in Greece. Which isn't to say I regret Greece or the promise I've made. This year will hardly mark the first or last Christmas I've missed at home. Seeing you was worth it.

Please, write me back as soon as you receive this letter so I know you were transported back to Hogsmeade alright. I'd hate to belatedly find out you were mistakenly sent to Mongolia like those poor debutantes a few years ago.

Yours, Jo

  

August 23rd, 1890

Dear Jo,
It has been little over a week, and I don’t go a moment without thinking about you. There’s so much I wish to share with you, inconsequential things that would never all fit in a letter. I await the day we can enjoy one another’s company once more.

What an intriguing discovery! I do hope you and your team crack the code with your brick tapping. A new tomb sounds like your dig is bound to be a success. I would love to hear the moment you get through and hear the details about what you find.

My return trip went as well as to be expected. The shop seems to have managed with only a few small catastrophes. It’s Hogwarts book buying season, after all. It seems every year that some rascal is bound to cause some mischief. Last year it was floods, this year flowers sprouting out of the furniture. Business has been booming, and we’ve needed to send out extra work to the printers in order to keep some of the research from the festival in stock. The recipient of the Corfu book was very pleased. I don’t believe I have blushed. Much.

Next year feels like a lifetime away, but I understand the importance of your work and of keeping your word to an employer. I endeavor to be patient, though I know my heart will ache for you. Africa would be a lovely adventure. I can’t say I have ever seen a giraffe, or a lion for that matter. It all sounds very exciting. I know you shall be much braver than I in the face of such beasts. I shall start saving up for travel expenses for us both.

Please write soon and tell me of all your adventures, and do let me know if you are of need of anything.

I miss your company.

Affectionately,

Zach

  

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Pretties thanks to Olive! <3

August 30th, 1890

Dear Zach,

I can't say how relieved I am to receive your letter. I've thought of you constantly the past two weeks wondering whether or not you were safe. Please, for my sake, continue to stay that way.

Flowers sprouting out of the furniture? I know it must be a terrible nuisance to have to trim them constantly, but the thought of a bookshop covered in flowers is, quite frankly, adorable. With all the cats and flowers you'll soon be overrun by women. All that's left to include is some tea and they'll never leave! I do hope the flowers don't ruin any of your books, though. That would be rather unfortunate.

The tapping continues. I've now taken to pressing on them with my hands in different spots. One brick shifted under such pressure yesterday, so I'm hopeful to have the tomb opened soon. Kamal doesn't quite approve of my methods. He seems to believe the entryway was sealed much more recently than the tomb was built. I've ignored him on this, obviously. There are no indications to suggest anyone found it before us, and even if they had why seal it? This isn't even to mention the fact that Ancient Egyptians didn't use wands! How would my wand open a passageway that was sealed with wandless magic? It was an utter folly to have wasted so many days mindlessly tapping on random bricks.

As excited as I am to be braver than you in the face of a lion, there is one point of contention I must address: I, in no way, expect for you to solely fund our travels. Please, don't set aside more than you'll need for yourself. I will be fine to contribute, especially considering I have nothing but local expenses to pay for here.

I want for nothing but your company. I miss you as well, Zach.

Yours, Jo

  

September 6th, 1890

Jo,
Another week has passed. How can time both feel as if it is at a standstill and quick at the same time? The promise of receiving your letters is what keeps me going through the days when I miss you the most.

The flowers aren’t as adorable as one would think. Some have thorns. I’m already fairly overrun with ladies every other Thursday when they hold their book club. Their selected readings aren’t the sort for interesting conversation. I keep trying to suggest novels of excitement, but they are much too concentrated on refinery than enjoyment. I have a sneaking suspicion it is a cover so they can gossip. I am grateful you aren't that sort of woman; they are tiresome.

I am glad to hear you are making some headway and have made one of the bricks move. It does seem rather odd that Kamal seems to think the tomb was sealed recently if you haven’t any evidence of that. However, I do hope you continue to be careful. I know you have curse breakers among you, but it grieves me to imagine some sort of catastrophe befalling you and your team once you are able to access the tomb.

I apologize if the suggestion of me paying for our next trip aggrieved you. I only wished to ensure you would still have funds left over for other travels when I cannot be with you. I did not wish to offend you. You deserve more than I can give you.

I await your next letter.

Yours,

Zach

  

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Pretties thanks to Olive! <3

September 13th, 1890

Dear Zach,

The distance between us is the singlemost reason why I'm grateful for my long days. While I never forget you or how I wish to spend five more minutes in your company, I'm easily distracted by my work. The new year seems so far away still.

You ought to speak to Earth about dethorning charms if the flowers continue to sprout. I'd hate for your books to become speckled in blood droplets. Those ladies would likely be frightened from hosting their book club in the shop and making future purchases, two unfortunate scenarios. Though, if it keeps them from trying to woo you in the direction of their daughters I won't complain. As for the gossip, it's what women do when there's nothing else to focus on. I've never had much patience for it myself.

What little progress I made by the singular brick shifting appears to have stalled. I have no fear of any griveous injuries befalling me, the same as my colleagues. We all are rather frustrated with our lack of progress and Lorenzo, a fellow archaeologist from Spain, is pushing to explore the catacombs further. If we make no progress in another week I might even agree with him. At the very least it's a joy to speak Spanish while working with him. It makes me miss Venezuela all the more.

I understand and am not angry with you. I've simply worked hard for my independence, as I'm sure you'll understand. Accepting help, even when needed, is a difficult concept for me. I apologize if I've worried you. It was not my intention in the least.

Yours, Jo

  

September 20th, 1890

Dear Jo,

I wish I could succumb to distraction as you do. We have fallen into the autumn lull, which has left me somewhat idle until October rolls around. At least plans for All Hallows' Eve festivities have allowed for some distraction. I daresay Gothic Nights may end up more elaborate than in years past for it is the only moments where I can snatch pure distraction. I miss you so, and I am counting down the days until the new year dawns.

The flowers have gone. I am unsure if the prankster righted their wrongs, or if the spell simply wore off. The ladies club has yet to try and gain my affection for their daughters. Even if they made such an attempt, I think I have become rather well practiced in evading my mother's attempts at matchmaking. They would be no match. Nor would my affections for you wane in such a predicament.

I'm sure your efforts shall pay off in the end. If not on the bricks you've been diligently tapping, but, perhaps, elsewhere. Your Spanish friend may have a point. Perhaps, there are riddles to unravel in another location in the catacombs. After all, the less traveled passageways at Hogwarts were never quite where one expected them to be. I am glad you are able to practice your Spanish while you work.

I understand your independence. I apologize if I test it in the future. My mother drilled it into me to be a perfect gentleman who ensures a lady is well taken care of. She never accounted for someone such as you, which I am glad for.


Yours Truly,
Zachariah

P.S. I seem to remember you mentioned having a strong preference for a certain Honeyduke's treat. I hope it makes your days sweeter. Don't mind the excessive packaging. I didn't wish for our feathered friend to take it upon himself to try a sample.

Wrapped excessively and spelled to keep are a liberal amount of peppermint toads from Honeyduke's.

  

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Pretties thanks to Olive! <3

September 27th, 1890

Dear Zach,

Thank you tremendously for the peppermint toads! I have been feeling a bit under the weather for the past week or so, and the treats have lifted my spirits considerably. It was a very thoughtful gift, I only wish there was something I could send you in return.

The shop can only benefit from well planned Gothic Nights. You could even make it a monthly festival, Mystery November, 12 Days of Christmas, and so on. Romantic February that concludes in a visit together. We have to make our distractions where we can, the distance seems so far and lonely otherwise.

You can never be certain in the failure of the women or your mother's attempts at matchmaking. I certainly never anticipated caring for you as I've come to. In fact, before you I never once gave thought to sharing my life with anyone else. I only fear the distance will grow to be too much, that someone else will be present and a cheerful distraction. Sometimes, I believe you would be better for it instead of pining for a woman half a world away.

We began exploring further into the ruins, though I remain certain there was some code hidden in the bricks. There were too many details signaling otherwise, we simply didn't interpret them correctly. Lorenzo disagrees, of course, but he just wants credit for a change in direction. I've been studying the artifacts we believed would lead us to the tomb with a few others during the evenings. Should we crack the code we'll just return to the site of the tapping and work from there.

I hope you're well. The new year will be here soon.

Yours, Jo

  

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beautiful set by mj

October 4th, 1890

Dear Jo,

I am sorry to hear you are feeling under the weather. I do hope you intend to see a healer if you continue to feel ill. Do you have one among your party?

You do not need to send me anything in return. Just the hope of seeing you again in the near future is all I need.

The festivals are a wonderful suggestion. I do believe I could incorporate Romantic February into future plans, especially if it resulted in a visit. I'm sure I could schedule a community event in which you just so happen to decide to attend while out to see your family.

I don't think anyone will enchant me as much as you have, Jo. I am better of with you than without. I wouldn't worry about my affections being displaced. I only wish for you.

I hope the mystery of the bricks will be revealed to you soon. I'm certain your persistence will win in the face of all other options. If you are in need of any reference material that may aid you in cracking the code, just know I am only a letter away. I may know of some associates who specialize in Eyptian ruins who might be able to shed a light on some of your troubles.

Take care, Jo. Your hard work will pay off soon.


Yours Truly,
Zach

  

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Pretties thanks to Olive! <3

October 15th, 1890

Dear Jo,

I hope I didn't offend you. Was I too forward in my last letter? Or are you still feeling under the weather? Your letters usually arrive rather promptly, so you can understand my worry. If you are ill, would you wish it of me to inform your family? I could phrase it simply as an owl mix-up.


Write soon,
Zach

  

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Pretties thanks to Olive! <3

October 18th, 1890

My Dear Jo,

Your latest letter is far overdue. Are you safe? It panics me to think that something may have happened on the job, or you are stricken with some terrible illness. I just wish to know if you are safe. I couldn’t bear to continue in this world without knowing you were still breathing. Even if you wished to never see me again, just the knowledge that you’re okay would suffice. Though, I hope that is not true. I don’t know what I would do if that were true.

Please reply soon. I am sick with worry.


Zach

Cue very depressed and conflicted Zach music.

  

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Pretties thanks to Olive! <3

Oct. 25th, 1890

Zach,

Please forgive me for worrying you so and for the brevity of my reply.

I've been in an Egyptian hospital since October 4th, and was unconscious until only a few days ago. Kamal was right in his assumptions and my arrogance cost me in ways I've not yet begun to understand.

My brother, Saturn, is here and has been at my bedside for some weeks. He'll be escorting me home as soon as the healers agree that I may be moved. Part of my injury includes damage to my head and arm, so they need to be certain I'll not drift back into unconsciousness, I suppose.

I'm terribly sorry for frightening you and miss you even more so than before the accident. Thankfully, the only positive to this is that I will see you soon.

Jo

Her handwriting is noticeably sloppier with weird strikes across the page as though her hand shook when the letter was penned.

  

November 2nd, 1890

My Dearest Jo,
I do not know if this letter will find you before you return home. You do not owe me forgiveness. It is I who owe it to you.

I am thankful that you continue to walk among the living, and it pains me that I wasn’t by your side in your time of need. I will keep this brief so you may rest and heal, but know that I am forever thinking of you and wishing you the speediest of recoveries.

Write me as soon as you’re well enough, and I’ll come to you.

Forever yours,

Zach

Another small piece of parchment is stuck in the envelope with the letter. One side provides floo information for the fireplace in his private quarters. The other side simply says ‘My home is always open to you.’

  

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Pretties thanks to Olive! <3