After more then a year I finally got to the point I decided to share the keypoint of Zach's lore. Because he's part of my lil universe for a reason... and oh boy, it did hurt a lot to take these screenies 🥲
⏳ Timeline: The Beginning. Before Hogwarts. Before Cass even set a foot on her grandmother's manor.
read the scene under the cut.
The stone was cold.
It pressed against his knees, rough and wet with old rot.
The door groaned open again.
Heavy leather boots struck stone.
He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
Harlow.
“Still alive, I see.”
Zach stayed silent.
“You’ve been rather… stoic. Impressive, even. Your mistress certainly formed a true soldier. I’ll grant her that.”
The toe of Harlow’s boot nudged his ribs.
“I don’t know who you think I am,” Zach replied, voice low and even, “but clearly, you’ve mistaken me for someone who gives a damn about your theatrics.”
That earned him a dry chuckle.
“You’re clever,” Harlow murmured. “And loyal. But loyalty’s only useful when it’s pointed in the right direction, yeah?”
Zach finally looked up, eyes sharp. “Is that what this is? A job offer? Forgive me if I’m not exactly leaping at the chance to serve under a greasy halfwit with a God complex.”
The spell hit without warning — a flash of red, unyielding and searing. Pain ripped through his spine like a burning wire. His vision flickered. Darkness crept at the edges.
But he didn’t scream.
He wouldn’t.
The pain subsided. Zach exhaled slowly, jaw clenched, breath uneven.
Harlow straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his lapel.
“Oh, I think you will, Boniface. Because somewhere in that cold little brain of yours, you’ve already figured it out. You’re not getting out of here. Not alive. Not whole. Unless…”
Zach raised his head. His voice came sharp, unwavering.
“You can curse me. Beat me. Bleed me for hours.”
He spat on the stone between them.
“But I am no traitor.“
Harlow paused for a second. Then smiled wickedly.
“What you don’t know,” Harlow continued, “is that your little mission was pointless. We dealt with the parents. Sloppy of them, really — hiding out in the mountains like sheep. Thought silence would keep them safe. Fools. But the girl….”
His tone shifted, darker now.
Zach’s attention snapped into focus, gears turning. A girl? Mrs. Montague had never mentioned a child. But if she was truly Augustina’s heir…
His orders were clear.
“What‘s the deal?” he asked at last, voice flat.
“Ah, finally. There he is,” Harlow laughed coldly. “It’s simple. Your life, in exchange for the Montague heiress.”
