The day had passed like all the others since he’d received Jo’s reply. Zach had woken, gone through his morning routines, and kept checking for owls. By some point in the afternoon, he had retired to the back of the shop to focus on some clerical work. It was really to escape his staff and well-meaning customers who noticed he was out of sorts. The waiting to even hear if Jo arrived safely was unbearable.

By the time he turned into bed, Zach had worn himself out with worry. He had barely read three pages of his latest book before he passed out. When Jo found him, his reading glasses were still perched on his nose, a novel leaned against his face, and the light he read by had just sputtered out.

He hadn’t heard her enter, nor did he realize she had joined him in the bed until he felt one of her limbs bump against his leg. Blue-green eyes immediately snapped open, and he let out a startled sort of grunt. Whirling around, Zach managed to slightly tangle himself up in the bed sheets, his hands grasping for the closest item to him. It was with panic that he raised the book with his two hands, wielding it as some sort of makeshift weapon. His wand was on his bedside table, but he wasn’t alert enough to actually use logic and reason.

His reading glasses and the relative darkness blurred her face. There was a person in his bed. At this ungodly hour.

"What the Devil do you think you’re doing?!” He shouted, waving the book about. "Who are you? What’s the meaning of this?”