Liar, Liar

24: Little Distraction

The following days proceeded as the last Occlumency practice had, with Snape digging deeper and deeper into my memories, and eating fairly plain meals that he had prepared. Later, we would usually read together, across from each other if we were discussing our materials or side by side when we read in silence.

About a week had passed from what I gathered, and Snape told me I was doing well with my Occlumency. I had managed to block him out a few times completely; however, only when he tried to invade memories that pertained to him.

The closest I got to leaving the house were my stolen glances behind the curtains. The closest I had gotten to my mother was the clothes I wore from her dresser and the books I read, whose spines had been traced by her finger, whose pages had been worn and read times over.

It made me wonder how many days she had spent here, perhaps cooped up as I was. I wondered about my own conception. Was it an accident? Had they been together? My father didn't seem like the type to marry or have relations, yet, eighteen years ago, he had.

My mind churned my ideas nonstop, causing Snape to look up at me, concerned.

And now, he did just that.

"You're worrying again," he observed.

We were sitting in the living room, as we found ourselves doing most of the time. He hadn't gotten close to me since the day I had teared up.

I tried to not think about it too much, but with regards to the fact that we were alone and no one would see us, I might have been slightly disappointed.

"I've been cooped up for too long," I sighed, playing with the fringe on the fraying couch.

"I must leave today," he announced.

"What?" My head snapped up. I stared at him, not believing I had heard him right.

"I must go to retrieve something. However, I will be back soon. I will have to lock you in while I am gone."

"Why can't I come with you?" I whined, realizing I sounded like a little baby. "Why not, Sir?" I tried again.

"It is for your own safety," he said briskly, buttoning his cloak back on.

I had truly started to like how he wasn't wearing his cloak around me all the time. He was starting to relax more.

"Where are you going?" I asked, trying to sound tough. "If it's Death Eater related, I have a right to know, you know. I'm one of them."

My statement made him cringe, although it was not my intention.

"And I regret it every day," he stared me down. "I will return shortly."

Defeated, I sat back on the sofa with a groan.

The door clicked behind me, and I couldn't help but worry about him. The Death Eaters were searching for us, I knew it. Voldemort wouldn't let us pass like that.

I decided to start on dinner, wanting to make something nice for when Snape got back. I was happy he insisted to cook for us, but his foods were always so plain.

How he liked them, he had told me.

He didn't let me cook because he was afraid I'd burn the house down and expose us both.

I had rolled my eyes at this.

I decided to cook a pasta with the ingredients we had. Pasta, butter. There was some cream cheese. I had to get creative.

I started to charm some of the cream cheese, turning it into parmesan.

I put water to boil and started to make chicken alfredo. Without any chicken.