Chapter 7
An Invitation
The silence coming through the phone was deafening. Harry wanted to quickly apologize, stammer that he had really called for many other reasons, and beg to see her again, but just as he was about to start talking, he heard Cassie say in the background, "Mum, how would you actually cook a frozen pot roast?" A few moments later, she spoke to him again. "My mum says that it is way too late in the afternoon to be cooking frozen pot roast for dinner." Harry laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right. I wasn't planning on cooking it today, though. I'm headed back to the grocery store, actually, but I thought maybe for tomorrow." His voice trailed off. He desperately wanted to see her again, wanted to ask her to meet him somewhere. He just wanted to have somebody to talk to.
"Do you have anything to do for dinner tonight?" Cassie suddenly asked. Harry was not sure if it was his imagination, but Cassie sounded really nervous. "Um, well, no." He suddenly realized that maybe he should have come up with some pressing engagement.
"Can you come over for dinner? My mum," Cassie rushed on, as though wanting to justify this invitation, "feels bad that you're cooking for yourself every night."
Harry's heart leapt up to his throat. Going to Cassie's for dinner sounded really nice, better than nice, but he knew that this would be foolish. Even to see her again would be asking for trouble. He was positive that Dumbledore would not be happy if he was going around meeting unknown people, sitting down with them, and taking the chance of being recognized. So he said, with real reluctance in his voice, "I can't, Cassie. I'd love to, but I really can't."
"Oh. Well, okay." He could tell she was a little embarrassed, like she wished she hadn't asked in the first place. He said quickly, "I really appreciate the invitation. I do. I just . . . I can't really explain. It's kind of complicated." There was that deafening silence again, and Harry wanted to fill it with some witty comment or something, but he could not think of one. So instead he just said, "Well, look, I've got to get going. I can't be away too long." He realized he shouldn't have said that. It was sort of a strange comment. He hurried on, wanting to cover up for that mistake. "I've really got to go, Cassie." He wanted to ask if it would be alright if he called again, but he didn't dare.
"All right. Goodbye, Harry." He hung up the phone on his end first, staring out of the phone booth with unfocused eyes. "I blew it," he thought. "I had the possibility of having someone, anyone, that I could talk to, and instead I blew it." He sighed heavily, opening the phone booth's door and stepping back out onto the street. "Maybe it's for the best, though. After all," he thought, "I may not be here for much longer and I'm sure that it's best for me just to stay focused on what I need to do." He couldn't forget that there was a war going on, a war that was determining the fate of the Wizarding world and the Muggle world and he, Harry, was the weapon that could decide which side would be the winner. The last thing he needed was a lot of distractions.
Harry walked quickly down the street the several blocks to the same grocery store where he had shopped before. No one even looked at him twice. The Muggle clothes that he had bought a few days ago were just what all the other people on the street were wearing and with his bangs pulled carefully down over his scar, there was nothing special to set him apart from the other people he was passing. The store was crowded with people picking up last-minute items for their dinners on the way home from work. Harry had not decided whether it was better to try to blend in with a crowd or whether it was best to isolate himself a little to decrease the chance that he would run into someone that had something to do with the Wizarding world. He supposed that either way was risky. He sighed again and started his shopping, trying to remember what he had purchased a few days ago and all the different meals that he had eaten since then.
As he shopped, he kept glancing up at all the people in the store. He had to admit to himself that he was looking for her. Every time someone blonde walked by, his heart leapt, and then would slow again when it was not her. He did not know why he thought she would come again to the store to see him. It was true that he had mentioned that he was coming here, but she may be busy, may be offended at his phone call, may be . . . And then, suddenly, she was there, smiling at him, her blue eyes maybe a little more clouded than they had been the other day, but smiling her same amazing smile and his heart, which had been feeling heavier with each passing minute, suddenly lightened. He smiled back at her and hoped that he wasn't grinning like an idiot.
"I realized," she said as they stood grinning at each other in the middle of the store's canned fruit aisle, "I never told you how to cook your frozen pot roast." And Harry, who hadn't had anything to laugh about for a very, very long time, laughed with the pure happiness he felt at seeing her.
They would have stood there longer, just staring at each other, but someone was trying to push past him on one side and a little kid had escaped from his mother and was trying to use Harry as a shield as she tried to grab him, and so he pushed his cart over to the side of the aisle while the mother grabbed her escaped toddler and the older shopper who had been muttering under his breath something about "kids getting in the way" pushed on by.