True Reflections: Scars Saga 3

Tense Encounters

Chapter 4

Tense Encounters

The next few days were rather... I suppose you could say tense.

1 July 1995

"Where's Remus?" I asked, looking around the near empty cottage.

"He left for work already," Sirius replied lazily from the couch.

"Oh...right. I forget sometimes that not everyone has the summer off. So... What would you like for dinner tonight?"

Sirius shrugged. "I'm not sure what you'll find in there. We haven't gone to the store in a while."

"Well, let's take a look then."

I opened the fridge to find a carton of milk that was quickly approaching its expiration date, a few slices of cheese, some wilted lettuce, and an egg. I didn't fare much better in the cupboards. They were comprised mostly of dust. I turned to look at Sirius; he shrugged.

"He usually eats something at work."

"And what about you?"

"I've been perfecting my hunting skills. I managed to catch a hare two nights ago," he said proudly.

"Guess I'll be going to market then. Where's the nearest grocer?"

"Down the road about five miles, but you can't go there."

"Why not?"

"Er—because, uh..."

"You are not keeping me locked in this house all summer. We need groceries. And if I know you, then the hare you caught probably had a lame leg."

"That's irrelevant."

"You can't count on your prey being lame every time, Sirius. Now I'm going to market; I'll be back in an hour. Please don't tear the house down while I'm gone."

Two minutes later, after apparating under a disillusionment charm to the nearby village, I entered the small grocery store. I began making my way down each aisle. We needed pretty much everything, but I refrained from filling the basket. I knew Remus would take offense if his cupboards were filled when he got home.

I was walking down the fifth aisle when I saw a familiar lanky frame. He was stooped over unpacking a box, and placing the items on the shelf. My breath caught in my throat leaving me immobile for a moment. I contemplated backing out of the aisle quickly so he wouldn't see me, but I was making ziti for dinner and I needed the shells.

As I was debating, he looked up and looked my way. He was struck with the same paralyzing surprise I suffered from. His back went rigid, his eyes wide, and I could see little white lines across his jaw from where he had locked it in placed. I had to move forward now; to back out would be to insult him. A customer coming from the other way and politely moving by him, stirred him from his trance. He quickly placed the two boxes he was holding on the shelf before stooping to pick up two more.

I quietly made my way forward. I could feel the air thickening as I approached. He never stopped stacking the shelf, trying his best to act normal. As was I.

I stopped beside him and opened my mouth to speak, but nothing would come.

"I..." I tried to keep my voice even and steady. "I'm making ziti with meat sauce tonight; any requests for tomorrow?"