June 2nd, 1891 — a small seaside dock near Hastings, Sussex
He really shouldn't have been nervous, after everything, but he was. He told himself that was silly, and overly sentimental, and in the abstract he knew it was — but still, practically, he felt as though there was a weight on his shoulders — the weight of getting this right, every single detail, because it might matter.
After some planning behind the scenes, he'd gotten Katia Meadowes as his accomplice for the afternoon. She was the right person — she believed in romance, and she'd known him in Hogwarts when he was gangly and awkward but generally normal, so she didn't dislike him as much as some of Zelda's siblings still seemed to. He didn't know what pretense Katia had used to get Zelda out of the house with her, but when he caught sight of them approaching the dock it was obvious that she hadn't let on to Zelda that she ought to expect to see Alfred today.
He was smiling, of course; he couldn't see her and not smile, these days. He was sitting at the edge of the dock, perched atop a chest with unused lines and fishing tackle — this was the rural sort of dock that was mainly used for little fishing boats. He was sitting on his hands, because if he wasn't he would have moved to touch her already, and he didn't want to push his luck with Katia. As innocent as it might seem to him to hold her hand or touch her waist, a romantic but still vaguely protective big sister might disagree.
"Hi," he said brightly, when they were close enough to hear him over the gentle noise of the sea beyond. "I've got something to show you."
After some planning behind the scenes, he'd gotten Katia Meadowes as his accomplice for the afternoon. She was the right person — she believed in romance, and she'd known him in Hogwarts when he was gangly and awkward but generally normal, so she didn't dislike him as much as some of Zelda's siblings still seemed to. He didn't know what pretense Katia had used to get Zelda out of the house with her, but when he caught sight of them approaching the dock it was obvious that she hadn't let on to Zelda that she ought to expect to see Alfred today.
He was smiling, of course; he couldn't see her and not smile, these days. He was sitting at the edge of the dock, perched atop a chest with unused lines and fishing tackle — this was the rural sort of dock that was mainly used for little fishing boats. He was sitting on his hands, because if he wasn't he would have moved to touch her already, and he didn't want to push his luck with Katia. As innocent as it might seem to him to hold her hand or touch her waist, a romantic but still vaguely protective big sister might disagree.
"Hi," he said brightly, when they were close enough to hear him over the gentle noise of the sea beyond. "I've got something to show you."
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER