Disclamer: I don't own Napa Valley, the characters, or the recipes. They are real, if not too brief and missing a few ingredients. Also, Folger's and Peerless aren't mine. The coffee brands belong to the said companies.
The chapter seems to me like I only wrote it to feel in the space, but I don't regret it.
Thank you for taking the time to enjoy this! I hope it's worthwhile!
"Severus?"
"Hmm?"
The young woman beside him sighed exasperatedly. "Can't you get your nose out of that book for five minutes? Come on, it's too nice to just sit out here and read…when you invited me out here this morning, I thought we might be doing something else than just sitting here, reading."
He raised his eyebrow at Jane, his head still stuck in the book. "You, an aspiring author, telling me not to read?"
"Yes! Come on, let's have a picnic or something."
"What?" he snorted, finally dropping the book into his lap. "We're already at the park, you want to go buy food and then come back?"
"Well…" she started a bit hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"Maybe we could go somewhere else, you know, quieter?" She gestured to the squalling children, flapping geese, laughing men, and squealing babies, hoping to get her point across.
"All right, all right." As Jane's face lit up, he stood up, tucking the book under his arm. "What time is it?"
"Mmm…about a quarter to twelve."
He glanced at the watch on her wrist, seeing that it was indeed almost noon. Realizing how hungry he was, he decided he was thankful she had been stubborn enough to take his interest away from the book.
"Where?"
She looked confused, "Where what?"
"Where do you want to get the food?"
"How about homemade? Something light?'
He groaned. "It's almost twelve…you still want to make a lunch? I thought you were hungry?"
"I am, just maybe not as much as you."
"Fine, fine. My house, then? My kitchen is rather full." He suggested rather grudgingly.
"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad. Why the grumpy face?"
"Nevermind. Come on, this way."
She followed him out of the park, and when they arrived at the estate, he heard her gasp. Turning slightly, he saw a look of wonder on her face.
"You…you live here?" She continued staring at the grove of trees behind the gates, the shadows dappling the path that led to the gardens behind.
"Yes."
"I've always passed by this house and wandered who lived here. The gardens look so beautiful." Her voice was merely more than a whisper.
"Perhaps you should come inside, then." Putting a key in the small lock at the gate, he pushed it open, the hinges protesting quietly. She continued ahead of him, touching a low branch, a soft petal, and the carvings of a fountain. He watched her from a small distance, letting her explore the garden on her own. He was busy watching a butterfly waft by when the silence was broken by a small voice.
"Severus?"
He turned to see her studying something in her hand. Walking up to her, he peered over her shoulder. "What is it?"
"Look."
It was the beetle he had found half a year ago, when it had still been autumn, when he had just met her. It's shell, dark and reflecting the colors around it, was glistening with small droplets of water. It crawled slowly between her hands, legs twitching every now and then.
"I found it floundering in the fountain." She said it quietly, as if not to scare the small creature in her hands.
As she lowered her hands to a large leaf, Severus contemplated the small bug, now making its way to the stem of the plant. It must have made a permanent residence here, living through the rest of autumn and winter until spring arrived.
"Can we eat out here?"
He lifted his eyes to study her face, eager, like a child's. He couldn't help but smile. "Of course, but we must have something to eat first, don't we?"
She laughed, the pealing sounds riding on the breeze. His smile broadening, he opened the front door and led her to the kitchen, watching her eyes taking in everything from the corner of his eye.
"Let's see. I have some greens I washed this morning that I picked yesterday," his voice came out slightly muffled from inside the fridge. "We can use them for a salad, we just have to make a dressing for them. Hmm…"
He continued to look through the contents, bumping his head as he tried to take out a rather large platter. Jane took it from him, placing it on the counter as she watched him take out a few bunches of herbs and a fresh lemon. "Could you go to the pantry right there and grab some honey? There's olive oil right there on the counter too."
"Okay." He heard the sound of the faucet running, followed by footsteps and a thud of a full honey bottle and a small clang as she took the glass bottle of olive oil from its metal holder. "Oh, these are so pretty! Do you have any bread? It would taste wonderful with this oil and balsamic vinegar."
He turned to see her admiring the uniquely shaped glassware. "As a matter of fact, I do. I bought it this morning, early, when it's just baked. The loaf is sitting on the top of the rack over there. We can toast it in the oven, and make a couple sandwiches out of it too."
She didn't reply, but instead started hunting for the breadboard, knife, and oven mitt. Pressing buttons until she got the oven to preheat, she made sure it was empty, then began slicing the bread into careful, even slices, leaving half of the loaf uncut. Placing the cut pieces onto a baking sheet, she slid the metal tray inside, snapped the door shut, and proceeded placing the unused portion away. She turned. "What about the dressing?"
Glancing at the greens that sat in its bowl on the counter, he looked back at her, smile playing on his lips. "I suppose that you love cooking as much as I do?'
"Correction. More than you do."
He laughed. "For the dressing, you can start by pouring in some of the honey and olive oil, and adding some of the red whine vinegar, lemon juice and salt, which is in there." He gestured toward the cupboard. "Oh, and the herbs right there can be added in as well. Just tone it down to your taste."
While she began to make the salad dressing, Severus took out slices of grilled eggplant and mushrooms and chunks of fresh cheese. Placing them on the counter, he turned on the oven light, checked the progress of the nearly golden bread, and decided to take out some of the dinnerware they'd need. Reaching for the plates below, he placed them beside the napkins and forks already there.
"What do you want to drink?"
"That can be your decision. What do you have?" She asked as she chopped the herbs to small pieces.
"I suppose some lemon water would do fine? And save some of those herbs for me, I'd like to add them to the sandwiches."
"Sounds refreshing. Here, your herbs are on the cutting board." She dropped the rest of them in the beaker of dressing just as the oven timer went off. Swirling the dressing in one hand, she opened the door with the other, glancing inside. "The bread looks ready."
Gently removing the tray with an oven mitt, he placed the hot baking sheet on the stove. Taking four slices, he moved them gingerly and quickly to the cutting board, sprinkling one side with the herbs. Taking the eggplant and mushrooms, he placed them on two of the slices, while cheese was applied to the other two. He grabbed some of the purple and green leaflets from the salad bowl and placed them inside as well.
"Now…" He glanced at the table. "Everything's done except for the oil and vinegar, which need to be packed up, and the water."
"I can put the water in the canister I saw earlier, and slice the lemons. I don't really know where to put the dressings."
He nodded in assent, storing them into small, makeshift bowls with covers. She put the lid on the canister just as she finished adding the sliced lemons and ice, then turned to him. "We just have to put this in something and then we can eat."
"Let me go grab the basket…" Emerging from the very back of the small room with a large basket dangling off one arm, he saw her giggling behind her hand. "What?"
"You have an actual basket?"
He shrugged. "It does come in useful, doesn't it?"
After strolling about for a while, they choose a shady, grassy spot in the back. They had considered the pagoda, but thinking that this place seemed perfect, they settled amongst the trees and flowers, the lawn just big enough for them and the basket. Placing the food on the plates, they picked up the sandwiches and began eating.
"Mmm…what kind of mushrooms are these?"
"Sliced portabellas grilled yesterday. Same for the eggplants."
"Leftovers?"
"No, I saved them for you."
She watched him skeptically, his lips only twitched. Picking off a leaf sticking out in the corner of the salad, she inspected it. "You used the salad in this too, right?"
"Mmhmm…very observant of you," he replied around his mouthful of salad. "The dressing is nice. You added just enough honey and lemon to make it just tangy, not too sweet or sour."
"Can't stand it any other way."
"But you're sitting now, aren't you?"
They both laughed, their conversation lasting well after their light meal.
After she'd been shown the gardens, groves, and the vegetable patch, not to mention the small orchard, herb garden, and the naturalistic pond in the back, she left, saying that it was late and that she would most certainly come and visit again, to help with the gardening, at the least. How could he refuse? The gardens most certainly took up a lot of his time.
Walking up the stairs, he was about to go to his bedroom and retrieve something when he found his interest drawn to the corner room again. Giving in, he walked inside, glancing at the books still lying on the floor. He bent down to put them away when the remaining sunlight glanced off the glass of the time turner on top, once again reminding him of what had happened to Jane, Hermione. Gently lifting them up, he placed the objects just as lightly inside, reluctantly closing the lid before leaving for his bedroom.
Severus looked up worriedly. He was sure it was past 2:00, the time Jane usually met him there at the bench. Usually, he'd be too engrossed in his book to notice the time, but as the chapter he was in was particularly uninteresting, he'd looked forward to seeing her, only beginning to worry when he realized that she was late. Of course, he reassured himself. She was just delayed by one of her classes or something. In a minute, she'll turn up, apologizing and making excuses about this or that…
But this time, he doubted it. Something felt wrong. Checking about one more time, he frowned, apprehension growing in his chest. Standing up quickly, he hurried to a young man, a little older than he was, and stopped him.
"Excuse me…sorry for being so rude, but would you tell me what time it is?" He gestured toward the band of metal around his wrist.
The man flashed a quick, rather startled smile before bringing his wrist up to his eyes. "About…" he squinted, "half past two."
"Thank you," Severus muttered distractedly, not even noticing the man walk away. Where was she? Feeling restless, he decided to leave, hoping it was just an appointment keeping her and not something more serious.
Stop worrying, Severus, he scolded himself. She's probably at an appointment she forgot to tell you she had, or…or at class meeting that just turned up!
But anything could have happened…
Stop being so pessimistic! For goodness sakes, no one can always be punctual, not even you!
Deciding not to rely on his unpleasant thoughts any longer, he resolutely opened the door to his house (he had unknowingly unlocked the gates in his clouded mood) and marched to the kitchen, where he set out a mug, a coffee maker, and two jars of Folger's and Peerless coffee. Setting the water and measuring the coffee rather roughly, he sat down on a stool, moodily watching the dark liquid drip, the thin tapping the only sounds in the room. He stared for a long time, no thoughts, and just a kind of fuzzy restlessness running through his head.
Realizing the noises emanating from the coffeepot had stopped a while ago, he sighed, feeling as old and tired as if he were once again a middle aged man. Maybe he was still the man he used to be. Lately, it seemed as if it were only appearances that had been altered, and nothing else. Every now and then, he'd wonder what would happen if the spell broke, and he was suddenly himself again. Or what would happen if Jane were to gain her memory back, remembering the Hermione side of herself and seperating herself from him? Sighing heavily again, he poured the contents into the mug, adding no milk, no sugar. Cradling the cup as if it was a flame in the middle of winter, he turned so that the counter was at his back, then brought up his legs so that the heels rested on the seat of the stool. It was a cramped fitting, but he couldn't care less that he was sliding off the chair or that the counter top was digging into his back. Staring out the window, he watched the leaves ripple and shake as the wind passed through them, making them dance.
Taking a sip, he closed his eyes, letting the comfort of the coffee and his home dispel any disturbing thoughts that had been floating in his head, a blank numbness washing enticingly over his mind.
For those of you who have me on your alert list, perhaps I could get an idea of how much interest my story's giving you? Given the growing number of unsigned reviews (which I don't mind, keep them coming) and the decreasing amount of familiar ones, I'd appreciate a short note on how well it's capturing your attention, and any details I assume you all know but are impossible for you to grasp…thank you.