Alfred blinked, entirely surprised by this development. For a moment he wasn't sure if he'd even heard her correctly, and even when the words themselves sunk in he wasn't sure how he ought to take it. This was some sort of trap, wasn't it? A veiled threat, maybe, that he just wasn't picking up on? Alfred did not get invited to things by the Fisks. This had to be a trap. If it was, though, it was a more clever one than he would have been able to escape; she was right that he had no reason to deny the invitation. He had to think over the phrase Thursday next twice to figure out what day she actually meant, but it wouldn't have really mattered; the only imminent plans he had were meeting with Mr. Fudge to talk over more of the logistics of his transition to the Sanditon, and that wasn't scheduled for any time that would have conflicted with a dinner invitation.

"Uhm, yes, that's — I can manage that," he said, rather awkwardly. He flashed a tentative smile towards Zelda, as if seeking confirmation that this was in fact a good thing — it seemed like a good thing, at the surface level, but ten minutes ago he'd been on the verge of actually trading verbal spars with Mrs. Ross so he was still skeptical. Then a thought occurred to him, and he added hastily, "With Zelda, too, or —?"

He'd just assumed she would be there, because Alfred didn't typically have cause to interact with the Fisks when Zelda wasn't around, but he realized with sudden panic that this hadn't been explicit in the invitation. If the point of the dinner was ostensibly to ensure that Roslyn was satisfied, it might actually be preferable to her if Zelda wasn't there. The idea of sitting through dinner without Zelda there for guidance or at least moral support made his stomach sink, though — particularly dinner with Roslyn and the Minister of Magic.