OWL TO RODOLPHUS
Dear Rodolphus,
I am currently sittin gon the patio of what the Italians call a "bar," which is really just like a cafè with a bigger menu. They have really fantastic coffee here, smooth, not bitter, which I find myself drinking more than tea, oddly enough.
Everyone smokes here, and it reminds me of our days at school. You smoked like a chimney, and the smell reminds me of you, which only makes me miss you even more.
I really miss you quite terribly. I know I do not say it all too often (I generally leave the verbosity to you), but I do miss you. Being away from you makes the feeling all the more sharp. The first few weeks of my marriage were difficult; I struggled with my new obligations to Narcissa. I knew that she was my responsibility, to look after, my wife, and that she deserves everything that I can give her. I thought it my duty to give her my whole self, and I convinced myself for a short time that I would be neglecting her otherwise.
But, as my time apart from you stretched on, I realized what folly had borne these thoughts. Perhaps a person,s whole heart could belong to a single other person, but I have found that my heart cannot belong to a single person so wholly.
You had my heart first, Rodolphus. I loved you as my best friend for most of my life, and then as the other half to my soul. It took me long enough, but I grew to accept it. I love you, Rodolphus Lestrange.
Perhaps I am only writing these things because I miss you, terribly, horribly. This is the sort of place you would love, and I am constantly reminded of it. I find myself half-turning, expecting you there, intending to comment on something. And then I realized I am alone.
Someday, I would like to come back here with you. I even promise to limit my complaining, maybe not complain at all.
Alas, some day. Now, I have business to attend to. Things are going very well, and the masses have taken to the message very well. I have heard whispers and seen to it that some pamphlets get distributed. I have had a harder time getting the aristocrats and Ministry types to accept the message, but they are slowly warming to the ideas. It has taken a lot of encouragement, and too many bottles of wine to count. All things considered, I think they are really beginning to see the benefits of it all. One can only hope.
I have been invited up to one of the aristocrats" villa for a private dinner, which is sure to prove to be a lengthy affair. These Italians like to linger over their food, which is rather tiresome. I am hoping to make more progress, however, and I hope the evening does not prove to be too dull.
I suppose I ought to abandon my shady table and go back to my tiny hovel of an apartment to dress for this evening. You would think I could find better accomodations, even at the last minute. Perhaps I will inquire at the fine hotel up the street. It is quite grand.
Missing you terribly,
(And with so much of my heart),
I remain, truly yours,
Lucius