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Owl to Tonks
Tuesday, July 3rd ~ Early Evening


About the other night I don't know why I'm sending an owl instead of showing up at your door I probably should have owled yesterday. I know we talked a bit about us on Sunday, but I still feel a little freaked out unsure.

I'm not real good at this sort of thing, but I'd rather not mess it up if I can help it.

Saturday made it clear that we're attracted to each other, but we both know there's more to it than that. What I think I'm trying to say is, would you like to go out to dinner with me.

On a date. A real, no excuses, date.

The writing utensils left on Tonks' semi-disordered desk looked a tiny bit like sugar quills that an enthusiastic toddler had tried to gnaw on.


S'ok. I mean, I'm still nervous and all, too, but I figure we'll get over it. Right?

For what it's worth, I can promise that I'm not going anywhere, not without a stonking good reason. Floods, plague, my aunt coming back as an Inferi and aren't you swooning over this romantic picture I'm painting? Merlin I'm bad at this.

So that's a yes. A real, no excuses, yes.

— T.

P.S.: Have a day/time/place in mind?

Hadn't really thought much past actually asking you out. In retrospect, I probably should have had a plan in mind.


I think for both our sakes and our sanity, the 'Sticks is right out. Same for the Hog's Head, simply because we should eat somewhere nice and not someplace that may or may not be the personal playground of a goat fucker enthusiast.

There's Daphne Potter's place, if you want. Or someplace in London?

Anyplace you might like?

As for when, I've got to head into Egypt in the next day or so, but I should be back by early next week at the latest, unless I get my Egyptian sorcerers confused, in which case feel free to Port Key out to the Alexandria hospital and give me a visit since I'll probably be stuck there for a while.


Nothing wrong with a bit of improvisation. And def. agreed on the avoiding of the usual Hogsmeade spots — Aberforth doesn't bother me so much, but Althea might be around and yeah, I'd like to keep this just between us while we figure this all out.

You think half the town's gonna lose bets to the other when they find out? And if so, I 'spose it'd be bad to arrest them for gambling, huh.

Potter's place — Un Peu De Ciel, right? I think that would fit the bill. Someplace nice, but not too stuffy and the tables aren't so close together that a person might trip over several chairs on her way to being seated.

Don't laugh. These things are important.

Owl me when you get back, unless you do end up hospitalized and then prepare for equal parts commiseration and "damn it, Stretch, be careful out there, all right?" at your bedside.

— T.

Will do.