May 7th, 1891 - Ottery St. Catchpole

If it had been a bad idea to leave the party, then it was a worse idea to leave Hogsmeade — but they had left the realm of good decisions at the moment Alfred suggested they leave, or perhaps at the moment that she agreed. Now there was too much momentum, because they'd already made the bad decision, so all of these subsequent steps just felt like follow-ups along the same path.

Or maybe she was just teetering on that weird line between being tipsy and being a little drunk, and trying to justify this whole night to herself.

She wasn't sure what the hours were at the floo point in Ottery, but they got lucky — it was still open and Zelda was trying not to think about being maybe spotted by people who worked there, or about the risk of people hearing them say an Ottery address at the other end of the floo in Hogsmeade. She was trying not to think about it, and it was too late now, because they had already left the party and they were already here, and Ottery had been too far from High Street for her to apparate them sober, never mind in this exact moment.

Once they were on the cobblestone path outside the floo point, Zelda wound her arm through Alfred's. Ottery already felt quieter than Hogsmeade had. She had a few extended family members in the area still, but no one who knew her even a little bit well, and there wasn't the overwhelming sound of a party all around them — just the noise of a pub up the street, and the foxes in the woods, the lake at night.

"This is better," she said, more out of optimism than because she already felt it was better.

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