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J. Alfred Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 12:48 AM

February 19th, 1891 — Late Evening — The Garden Behind the Fisk Home

Everything was easier in person. Pablo agreed that this seemed like something more easily untangled face-to-face, and Alfred had gotten nowhere with letters. He did not believe for a moment that he and Zelda were really fine, despite what she said in her latest (painfully short) letter, but he didn't think there was anything he could put on paper that would get her to say more. So: it was time to move the conversation off the paper.

It was late, so he was confident no one would be using the garden when he arrived. He took the floo to the Leaky Cauldron, walked to the corner of the Fisk property, and apparated about four feet to the left, and there he was: in the garden. And in one piece, too! He had been vaguely worried he might splinch himself (in a minor way). He had been drinking. Might even have said that he was drunk, though only a little bit — if he was — and he might not have been — not entirely — not yet.

Alfred sat down on the grass in the corner of the garden and looked up at the windows of the house, some still lighted, some not. He wasn't sure which one was Zelda's bedroom, and had not thought this through well enough that he had a plan for how to get her to come outside. He needed an owl, he supposed. An owl could have found her window, because they always knew, somehow, and it could have given her a letter and told her to come down. It was a bit conspicuous, was the problem. The other problem: he did not have one.

He did have her last letter in one of his jacket pockets, because he'd been reading it right before he'd left, when he'd decided to do this in the first place. He removed it and skimmed the sparse words in the dim light of the moon. Plenty of room left on the paper, since she'd hardly said anything. This would work. With a bit of pencil he had in another pocket, he scratched out, Hi! In your garden. Come down. JAD in the margins. He read it over once, then drew a lopsided heart for good measure.

He knew a spell to make a letter fly on its own, and he thought it would work here. It wasn't very reliable over long distances, but Zelda couldn't have been that far away, right? Nevermind that the last time he'd actually used it was when he was a Hogwarts student passing notes in class. It ought to work just as well two decades later, without his ever once having practiced it, right?

The note took off, fluttering and spiraling unsteadily but managing to move generally in what Alfred guessed must have been the right direction. It tapped against one of the lighted windows.

OOC: @"Zelda Fisk"/Cassius Lestrange, but open to interruption/intervention from anyone else who lives at home

MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

Zelda Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 1:22 AM

Zelda was narrating her week to Yorick; the sandy-colored dachshund had heard more about Zelda's complaints since Valentine's Day than anyone else she knew, and was a better audience than anyone else. Xena was out, which meant that she was free to narrate to an audience. "I would just like to point out once again," Zelda narrated to the dog, scratching behind Yorick's ears, "That I never actually asked to hear from -"

Something was tapping on her window.

Zelda raised the windowsill and grabbed the note out of the air. She slid it back shut as she turned around and opened the folded-up piece of paper. Technically it was her letter, just with some additional content - Hi! In your garden. Come down. JAD and a lopsided heart. Zelda frowned at Yorick. "You'd be a terrible guard dog, you know," she said. She left Yorick in her room but put on shoes before she left her room, walking towards the back door. Zelda pulled her coat off the hanger, feeling suddenly very aware that she was just in her nightgown. Frowning, she took the time to button the coat before heading out the backdoor and into the small yard.

Zelda headed down her steps, squinting into the darkness. "Alfred?"

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J. Alfred Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 1:36 AM

Oh, it had worked. He wasn't sure whether he'd been expecting it to, but there she was at the upstairs window. She disappeared, and Alfred waited for what seemed to be a terribly long time alone in the dark garden before he saw the back door open.

"Psst!" he hissed, to draw her attention to the appropriate corner of the garden. He didn't want to venture too close to the back door; if he entered into the little pool of light there he might be seen by someone at one of the other windows.

"Hi," he grinned as she drew closer. "Kiss me."

MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

Zelda Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 1:52 AM

There he was. Zelda stepped out of the light and into the garden; she was frowning as she went. This was weird, in general; it was weirder still that Alfred was here and hadn’t said anything. She was very aware that her family could catch them at any moment, and of the damp of the garden in winter starting to soak through the sole of her slippers.

She leaned up, still frowning - for a moment she maybe considered actually kissing him. Common sense sunk in.

”Are you drunk?” Zelda asked, still frowning, still a few inches away.

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J. Alfred Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 1:59 AM

Alfred started to laugh, but realized this would be a terrible idea given his current location and the general situation with her family, so reached up to cover his mouth with his hand before he could make too much noise. He perhaps might have taken a hint from her tone, but was too amused by the question itself to respond in the same tone she had.

"I'd have to be at least a little drunk to be here in your garden at — whatever time it is," he pointed out, still grinning like an fool. "Kiss me."

MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

Zelda Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 2:04 AM

There was a time that Zelda would have been charmed by this, or a time that she wouldn’t have cared that he was drunk. That was before, though - before she was trying to convince her father that Alfred could marry her, before she had a chaperon-leash so short she could feel it chafing, before they had been actually courting as best as they were able. And she was annoyed with him, beside - still had not talked to her dog enough that she had shed her annoyance at the entire Jupiter Smith situation.

She was older now, and she had had a long week, and Alfred was drunk enough to find all of this funny.

She couldn’t go anywhere, she felt trapped in her own house and her own skin - and he was risking all of it by being here. And he thought it was funny.

”Do you have any idea what will happen if someone comes outside?” Zelda said, baffled and biting her lip and suddenly, surprisingly, unhappy with him.

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J. Alfred Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 2:10 AM

She wouldn't kiss him. He had expected this, but all the same he took a step back and made a sweeping voila! gesture with his hands. It didn't take a genius to figure out she was angry with him, but he was proud of himself for forcing her to demonstrate all the same. She could not very well continue saying they were fine if she would not kiss him, given the opportunity.

"You're mad at me," he announced. "So let's talk about it."

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MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

Zelda Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 2:16 AM

Zelda’s mouth opened in an ‘o’ of surprise as he stepped back and waved his hands at her. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat, very much feeling the weather.

”Are you kidding me?” Zelda said. Even with his question, all she could really think of was everything he was risking by coming here. He couldn’t have just sent her a letter?

Alfred just gave her a ‘no’ look, and she could have sputtered furiously at him but she bit it back. Instead, finally she said: ”What gave you the bright idea to come here drunk without warning me?”

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J. Alfred Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 2:33 AM

Alfred nearly laughed again, but fought it down and shook his head instead. "How was I supposed to warn you? With a letter? Because that's been working out so well," he said sarcastically. "You said we were fine in your letter," he reminded her. He followed this with a vague gesture towards her, and a look that said obviously we're not.

MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

Zelda Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 2:44 AM

Zelda bit down on her lip and glanced back towards the door of the Fisk household. ”It’s not like we weren’t fine,” she protested. Alfred had been more interested in telling her about his friendship with Jupiter Smith than talking about anything else, and Zelda had - really, frankly, just wanted everyone to stop trying to justify things to her.

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J. Alfred Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 2:50 AM

"Wasn't it?" he challenged, with a skeptical look. If they were fine, why was she sending him one-line letters? Why wouldn't she kiss him when he asked her to?

After a beat, he continued, "I came here because I wanted us to be actually fine, and I thought it'd be faster to talk about it. You know I spent an hour of Valentine's Day just sitting in the post office waiting on letters and trying to figure out what was going on?" he asked, shaking his head.

MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

Zelda Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 3:07 AM

For a moment, Zelda felt guilty, standing out there in her wet slippers with her hands shoved into her jacket. Instead what she said was, "And I was here alone. I know." Valentine's Day had been sad and frustrating and she didn't want to talk about it; she didn't understand why no one realized that she didn't want to talk about it.

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J. Alfred Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 3:22 AM

Alfred paused, frowned. For the first time during this conversation he lost his the air that he was vaguely amused by how ridiculous this all was.

"Except —" he started, but stopped. He'd been going to explain how her situation on Valentine's Day wasn't really quite so difficult as his had been, because she knew what was wrong the whole time and refused to tell him, but he thought better of it. Arguing about who'd been more put out by what had been a bad situation for both of them wouldn't help this conversation at all.

"You know I'd tell you anything, right?" he asked, voice quiet and sincere. "And I wouldn't lie to you."

MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

Zelda Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 3:33 AM

Zelda exhaled, and some of the tension went out of her shoulders. "I know," she said, "But then - I felt like I was just getting letters about how close you are and how much I wouldn't understand. And it felt - I don't know, condescending?" This wasn't a conversation she wanted to be having here, outside her house, when she was cold and tired and annoyed. It wasn't a conversation she wanted to have when he was drunk.

Frankly, it wasn't a conversation she wanted to have at all.

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J. Alfred Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 3:40 AM

Condescending? Alfred made a face. He had thought he'd braced for whatever she was going to say, but he hadn't been prepared for this. Alfred was not exactly high and mighty in the view of the rest of society. He wasn't sure if he could have successfully come across as condescending to anyone (other than Zelda, apparently) if he'd tried. No one took him seriously enough for that.

"From me?" he asked, in disbelief. It didn't really matter whether it had been him or Jo, though, at the end of the day. What mattered was how Zelda felt about it. "This is — this is the problem with letters," he said, shaking his head again. "The only thing I ever tried to do was make a joke."

MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER

Zelda Darrow · February 4, 2021 – 4:00 AM

Zelda frowned again. "You both - it's like I was too small to understand, but you said you would tell me everything, so how could I ever be angry?" she said, finally. "Just because I have to - have a chaperon and everything, that doesn't mean I'm not smart." She was having a hard time articulating her point; this was why she had given up with the letters, too.

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