My dear Bogdan,

I hope my letter finds you in good health and safe travels. You are sorely missed in this gloomy weather, and since you have left England, I found that my Sundays are poorer, in both conversation and company. I trust, however, that as always, you will return with many more stories to tell and enchant your audience with, be that in person or through your books. As always, I count myself lucky to be part of your distinguished audience.

In the meantime, I do enjoy the stream of letters you find yourself able to regularly send. I was especially enthralled by the details of your time in Macedonia, and your witnessing of their wizarding funeral rites and courtship. It is my humble request that you sing their songs to me upon their return, as I can only imagine how that must have sounded like.

If you would accept the advice of an old man whose bones have been creaking of loneliness since Aurora's untimely death, I do think you should have taken the hand of that young lass, even if only for the duration of your time there. Who knows? Perhaps she could twist your mind into staying a bit longer. I know very well how much you cherish your life and freedom as a bachelor, but soon enough, you may find yourself craving more than the nightly embrace of your bed sheets.

You may be wise, my dear friend, but I am older.

To answer your question, over here, nothing much has changed. I know you abhor any talk of politics, so I shall stray away from it, and instead deliver news of a personal matter.

I write to you with good news from this front. My only child and son, Lucius, has found himself a wonderful girl to share his life with, and they have already started planning their wedding. She is a Black, which worried me until I met and spoke with her at length, and realised she is part of the saner, more sensible members of her family, as opposed to her aunt, Walburga Black - which I very well know you find as disdainful of a woman as I do. Narcissa, however, is simply lovely, and looks at Lucius with such love that I cannot but be surprised that he has managed to find such a person.

I don't want to burden Lucius with this thought, so I shall burden you, my friend, and I do apologise for it, but I do wish Aurora would have been able to see that look Narcissa gives him, and see him becoming a groom, a father, a fully-fledged man. Now, with him close to being a married man and hopefully having a child soon, I have relegated myself from the manor and his company, preparing him for soon enough taking over everything associated with the head of the family.

I don't mourn my position, for I have nothing to mourn for, but I do wish I had more company around the house.

Lucius may very well have sent you a wedding invitation with more details by the time you receive this letter, however, I would not do such a thing as to ask for your company and cut your trip short. Although, if you find yourself back in England by May, it would be my utmost pleasure to have you as a guest.

I do, however, have a request. You have accompanied and found me many musicians to sing and play whenever I had an event to organise, and you know very well how much I defer to your immeasurable talent to find me the best in their craft. I defer to you once again, and ask if you could find me either a band, or an assortment of musicians for the wedding of my only son. As always, the price does not matter, as long as they are wizards of good standing.

I have attached in this letter enough money to guide you further in your travels, as far-reaching as your eyes can take you.

Your friend and confidant,

Abraxas

My oldest and eldest friend! My patron and my boss!

I take up the pen to wish you, your son and his soon-to-be-wife all the health the world can offer. Not from Macedonia, this time, mind, but by the time you read this, from Greece. I have moved, on account of that wretch of a woman that took a liking to me. I have despaired for nights on end, as you very well mentioned, only twisted in my bed sheets, but it was all a good fortune in the end, as the old musicians taught me their songs of passion and longing.

I would sing them under her window each night, I did, I swear to you! I knew she wanted me to come inside the house, and I very well would have, but I wanted to see how long I could live with the yearning eating at my heart. And each night, my music improved, until I felt the chords swelling in my throat and heart with such pathos that I couldn't use my voice for a single whisper more, and I could only play my cobza, with more and more fervour, until I could no longer feel my fingers.

I climbed up the window that night, and at dawn, left smelling of orange blossom and ate and drank with the men, who laughed at me tremendously when I told them for how many days I sang under the window - they said I was foolish, and with your reply now, Abraxas, I know certainly that I was foolish indeed!

They told me the next morning, she came by in a red dress, and said she wouldn't wait for me a day longer. A red dress!

I made friends there with a Greek man, who had travelled even more than I have, and exchanged wife after wife on a whim, either on his or their whims. He promised to teach me what to do with all my passion, and I am travelling now to Greece pretending to be a Muggle. It is easier that way, he told me, as the Statute of Secrecy is frail in these parts, as I have told you before. It's easier at times to pretend to be things that you are not - but you very well know, in my craft, I have to pretend every time I perform I am something else!

My new Greek friend is perhaps as old as you are, if you will allow me to write to you such indiscretions. He still chases after women and women chase after him - he doesn't refuse one, saying that it is our greatest sin as men, to refuse the whims women ask of us. I think he said so, at least, as we are still trying to learn how to talk to each other. And if that is what he said indeed, perhaps he is right!

I will write to you of a song I was taught- it will be my greatest pleasure to be able to sing it to you upon my return, whenever that may be.

Green leaf of mistletoe,

It's a pity I have grown old, and my time has still not come!

My hair has grown grey, but I have not yet loved enough!

I have not yet loved enough, green leaf of mistletoe

I remember long times past, and if I remember more,

I will sit down and start to cry!

I remember all my life, and I wouldn't give it for the whole world!

If I could become what I was, green leaf of mistletoe,

Young and handsome, who'd put to the ground all that he'd caught,

And how I'd kiss all that I caught!

I cried when my Greek friend first sang it, even if I could not understand a word. When I learnt what he sang, I then thought of you, and thought you would enjoy these words very much.

I do not think I will return by May from my travels, not when I planned to at least touch the borders of Iran and barely reached Greece.

Their wedding invitation reached me as well, and I had a look at the photograph enclosed - what a bride Narcissa will be, what a groom Lucius will be! Tell him I thank him for his kind invitation, and wish him a wonderful wedding and only happiness ahead of him. I have also enclosed two wedding presents, please do pass it onto him and ask him to open them a day before the wedding. It contains wonderful gemstone jewellery I have had made by an old witch that specialises in creating all manners of ornate crafts - they are wonderful pieces that gleam in colours and hues that I promise no one in England has seen before, and for short periods of time, surround their owner with the most wondrous fragrances I have ever smelt. I hope the owl will not be too delayed by the extra weight.

In regards to your request, I am much obliged that you have thought of me. I do indeed know enough wizards to serenade the wedding not for one night, not for two, but for an entire week, should you wish them to. I have enclosed a small list of cellists, singers, violinists, as well as players of santouri, guitars, flutes, cimbaloms, pianos, and so on. Some of them you already know, as they have accompanied me many times before, so please do think of them first. I wrote down, alongside their names, who they accompany best, as well as any other details you may or may not find of importance. You know very well that in music, like in any business and politics, that there are only certain combinations that work well.

Due to your request of only good standing, whatever that may mean (I know very well what it means to you, of course!) I would advise not to go with any of their recommendations - for example, they will recommend you hire Carmen, because she's young and pretty, but as good as Carmen is of a singer and a dancer, she's too green to understand how to behave. You will most certainly have Michael recommended to you, because he just got a post at the Ministry and he wants to make a name for himself, but he's too eager to lead and will change your wishes in a misguided attempt to earn your favour.

In my stead as a lead, I wrote at the top the name of two friends I do entrust will be able to guide the band. If you want my personal recommendation, if she accepts, go with Margarita. She won't be swayed by the band into making changes, no matter who you pick to accompany her. I like her best because she is the most like me, like an older sister (if I ever had one) - does not care for anything else but the craft! Even if some may deny your request because of any association they feel uncomfortable with, Margot will not refuse a chance to play and sing. She may refuse for other reasons, however, reasons that even I cannot expect! I will write to her because she may refuse you, my friend, in spite of all the money and favours you can offer, but she would never refuse her brother.

I thank you for the money sent and I kiss your hand for the benevolence you bestow upon me! Thankfully, the money from my books still reaches me, despite both the editors and Gringotts sending me owl after owl, sick and tired of having to send all this money across borders. Yet I am as sick of them as they are of me, disturbing me with all of their owls!

Only you, my patron, understand the freedom I yearn for. I wish to write, and sing, and learn, and tell my tales, not deal with their bureaucracy! Is that why we were born with magic? To dwell and fiddle with parchment for the smallest thing, until our death, instead of expanding our horizons? I do not mean to insult you, and I know you know me well enough that you would never take it as an insult, but I do not know if we could have been friends if when we met, you would have been my age. I am thankful, however, that we have met when we have. You send me an owl every few months, enough for me to rejoice that I am not forgotten, and enough for me to lay down all my ramblings. You know how long the replies are to my editor? A sentence! How could I reply more to him, when all of his letters are balderdash?

I salute you a thousand times, and wish you could see these blue seas with your own eyes!

All my best wishes,

Bogdan

My dear friend,

How well you know me, even from countries and seas away, I cannot fathom. I fear sometimes that you know me better than my own son, and I fear that I am right to say so, but alas, that is how I had to raise him in this world.

I often wondered to myself as well, if I were young, if I were your age, if we would have gotten along, and perhaps we would not. No, I certainly know we would not, because I was too ambitious and would have been eager to dismiss such culture and erudition. I am thankful thus, that I have met you not when I was young and stupid, but in my old age. I have tried to instil this in Lucius as well, although I am afraid he may only see it when he is as old as I am - we are not simply idiot creatures who live to eat and work and sleep, we are here to be, to rejoice and discover the things you seek in your travels. He thinks his father has gone mad, but I know he respects your words, for you worked far harder for your name than me or him have had to work for ours.

But alas! I know I bore you with such talk, and I do not wish for you to start replying to me like you do to your editor. If you think I'm going soft in the head, write to me, and tell me off.

I indeed relate to your Greek friend and his song, and cannot await your return and to hear it in person. I wanted to ask you for his name, but I know very well why you hide things from me at times, and I will abstain myself from doing so.

In regards to your little affair in Macedonia, what can I say? Life is ephemeral, my young friend, and they were right to laugh at you! I myself chuckled when I read what you have done, but I know you very well, and I know that you would not have taken any other path, and if you were to find another lass in a red dress in Greece, I entrust that you, foolish green lad, will do the same thing yet again.

Speaking of women in red dresses, I have read your letter in full and immediately reached out to your personal recommendation. I do not know how to begin to describe Margarita - but then again, why would I describe her when you know her like a sister? You were correct, of course, and she knew exactly what I wanted with the wedding, and we managed to reach an assortment of twelve musicians. Lucius was there as well, but he had almost no input, not that I would trust him with such matters. For a reason or another, he did not seem to like Margot much, but alas, he trusts me, and I trust you, and you trust her, and so shall it be.

She had brought her violin and a guitar, but all I needed to her was her voice, that mesmerised I was by it. Oh, and how well she dances, Bogdan, I understand now what you mean when you talk about the love of the craft. She exudes it, she becomes it, she loses herself in it.

I wonder if it is my old age that has turned my heart softer, or if it is her gaze. My friend, because you see her as a sister, I will only tell you that I lost myself in her golden eyes, and if it were not for Lucius, I am not sure I would have found it within myself to leave her presence. Would you ask the sun to leave your garden?

Perhaps it is better that you do not come for the wedding then, for I could not bear having anyone, even you, know why I look at her. Not to measure her songs, but to sate myself, as I know I would have no reason to see a glimpse of her afterwards.

My letter bothers you mere weeks after the last - I will not write to you until after the wedding, and leave you to your freedom and shared solitude with your Greek friend. Keep well and free, as it suits you well!

Your friend always,

Abraxas