owl to rodolphus
dearest rodolphus,
i was so happy to get your letter. it brightened an otherwise cloudy day in rome. it makes me feel slightly better knowing that you're only an owl away.
as you grow weary of the ministry, i grow weary of the masses. i think, however, that my work is nearly done. they've taken to the messages extrordinarily well, considering their prior resistence. i've made really strong connections with some of the bureaucrats here, and i don't think they'll need me around much longer. i might be able to be home by the weekend.
when i do eventually come home, i must see you. i will probably have to stop myself from barging into your flat at some odd hour of the day immediately after i arrive back in london. most impolite. perhaps we could arrange something less intrusive for my return. i promise to bring lots of wine.
i'm glad to hear about your gardens. i've always been impressed with them. the gardens at wiltshire are in a sad state, having been without a green thumb for too many years. narcissa might have mentioned something about the green houses, which wouldn't be too difficult to whip into shape again. i'd much rather look at your already lovely gardens.
let me know what you hear from narcissa. i'm sure she's fine. i just worry. i worry far too much.
i find i tend to worry more while i'm away. i suppose it's natural, in an odd way. i worry that you're unhappy, for example. i hope that's not the case. our situation is in no way ideal, but we do make the best of it. perhaps in another time, another life, we could be perfectly, brilliantly content. but i wonder if i'd have it any other way.
oh, i ramble most horribly. i love you and i miss you and hopefully i will be home by the weekend. it turned out that it wasn't that difficult of a mission after all. what relief!
all my love,
lucius