Shown Like the Sun

Chapter 11

Lost inside

Adorable illusion and I cannot hide

I'm the one you're using, please don't push me aside...

--Blondie

***

"Oh, brilliant," Althea muttered and frowned as she examined herself in the hall mirror, "just brilliant." She adjusted her halter-top, smoothed out her skirt, and sighed--she was having second thoughts on her chosen dress. "I might as well strut about naked," she remarked and turned her head to look at her bare back in the mirror. "I look so bloody eager."

Forcing a weak smile, she walked toward the kitchen--her stomach growling at the delicious smells filling her nostrils. I don't believe it, she thought and let out a laugh of surprise. In the sink, soapy water filled to the brim, and charmed brushes scoured pots and pans. When did he learn Cleaning Charms?

"Thea, is that you?" Sirius asked loudly from the pantry.

"Yes, but it's Althea," she replied as the activity in the sink still held her attention.

"Yeah, Althea. That's what I said," Sirius replied and he swore unintelligibly as Althea heard a loud crash. "Right--er--I'll meet you in the dining room."

Althea's smile faded. "The dining room?" she asked lightly.

"Er--yeah," he answered and there was another loud crash. "Bloody hell!"

Althea cringed. "Would you like some help?"

"No, no, I'm fine," he answered and there was a loud thump. "What the--"

Althea heard a loud bang and vowed she would not clean the mess in her pantry. What is he doing, she asked herself, raising an eyebrow as she took a step forward.

"Of all the--"

"Right," she breathed as Sirius continued to swear. "I'll go to the dining room."

The dining room, she questioned as she exited the kitchen--a growing queasiness enveloped her stomach. I thought it would be a simple dinner, but now.... Oh dear, nothing is ever simple with Sirius. I should've remembered that.

Inhaling a deep breath, she entered the dining room. "Oh, bloody hell," she murmured uneasily as she looked upon the dimly lit room.

Althea blinked her eyes in an attempt to adjust to the soft candlelight. He's trying, she thought as she slowly looked around the dining room. Small yellow flames flickered from the long, tapered ivory candles in candelabras positioned about the room. She never used the candles (and she believed the candelabras had not been used since the nineteenth century), but the warm glow was comforting and a pleasant contrast to the dark woods of the furniture. Her eyes traveled from the lighted candles to the two neatly arranged place settings at the far end of the table.

Sirius, carrying a bottle of wine, entered through the servants' door and stopped at the far end of the table. The corner of his mouth upturned into a smile as he looked upon Althea--she never felt more self-conscious. Not taking his eyes off her, he placed the bottle between the two place settings. He too had improved his appearance (although Althea would never admit to doing so); his clothes were new and unwrinkled, hair was clean and combed, and his face shaven.

"You look..." he paused, consciously searching for a inoffensive word, "lovely."

Althea's lips quivered into a small smile. "Thank you," she said and gently nodded toward the table. "I don't know what to say," she continued, walking toward the table. She slowly glided her fingertips over the smooth, cool tabletop. "It's very...are the candles necessary?"

"I missed the glow of candlelight and gas lamps," he answered thoughtfully. "Electrikaty could be so cold and impersonal."

"Electricity," she corrected.

"Yeah, electricity."

Althea smiled slightly. "You said, 'electrikaty.'"

"Did I?" he asked, bemused, and raised an eyebrow.

Althea nodded.

Sirius let out a small laugh. "Oh, well, it's been so long, you know," he replied and pulled out Althea's chair. "Here," he continued and offered Althea a seat.

"Thank you," she said quietly as Sirius uncorked the bottle of wine. "Oh no, no," she continued, holding her hand over her glass. "I really shouldn't."

Sirius held the bottle in his hands. "You love wine," he stated and looked at the aged label on the bottle.

"Not particularly," she replied and saw Sirius frown. "Well, not anymore at least. I've given up drink for the most part.... You're right, though, I used to love it."

"Right," he muttered, seeming to make a mental note. "I reckon I should serve the first course."

"First course?"

"Yeah," he breathed, with a proud smile. "First course."

Althea smiled with surprise. "Well then," she began, placing the serviette in her lap, "I'd like to try the first course."

As soon as Sirius left, Althea slid in her chair and sighed. Candles, courses...oh bloody hell, she thought, the uneasiness of the situation was overwhelming. He's lonely, Althea...very lonely.... It'll be back and forth with him. At every new discovery, he will either love or hate you. With the sound of Sirius' footsteps returning to the dining room, Althea straightened herself in her chair. Just--he needs another friend more than anything.

"Enjoy," he said, placing the small salad plate in front of her.

Althea touched her fork to the lettuce. "Did you raid my garden?" she teased as she picked up the dark red and green leaves with her fork. She brought the leaves to her lips and smiled before she tasted them. "This is very good, actually," she commented, picking up more lettuce with her fork.

"Really?" he asked and took a bite of his salad. He nodded in approval.

Althea swallowed. "Yes, very good," she answered and laughed quietly. "I can taste the citrus.... Where did you learn to make this?"

"Enchanted Entrees," he replied and Althea covered her mouth as she laughed. "What?"

She let her hand fall to her lap. "Afina gave me that last Christmas," she explained, picking up her fork. "We attempted to cook from it. It was disastrous. We were banned from the kitchens at Northfield."

"That awful," he remarked and took another bite of salad.

"Terrible," she replied, looking at the colorful and delicious salad.

"What did you cook?"

"Oh, I don't remember exactly," she said, pushing lettuce around her plate with her fork. "I believe it was some salmon dish. It was ghastly."

"Oh," Sirius said, disappointed. "I reckon we should eat dessert, then."

Althea looked to Sirius, who was frowning. "You cooked that, didn't you?" she asked and Sirius nodded slightly. "Don't worry, the kitchen is intact and smoke isn't billowing out of it. Yours is a definite success compared to ours."

Sirius pushed the lettuce around his plate. "You're a brilliant cook, though."

Althea laughed nervously. "Thank you, but I haven't cooked in ages."

"You've cooked for yourself."

"For a man..." she replied awkwardly, quickly looking to her half-eaten salad, "or anyone, for that matter."

Althea roughly stabbed pieces of lettuce and shoved them into her mouth. Forcing a steady gaze at the shadows flickering across the top of her plate, she heavily swallowed the chewed pieces in an attempt to suppress her own feelings of loneliness. Once, she had enjoyed hosting intimate gatherings among friends--long evenings filled with entertainment, laughter, and delicious meals--but as Althea embraced her hollow shell, the perceived phoniness of the evenings outweighed all pleasure.

"Oh," he murmured and cleared his throat. "Right, I have something I'd like to give to you."

Althea looked to Sirius and shook her head. "Oh really, it's not necessary. Let's just enjoy this--"

"Please," he interrupted, taking a box from his trouser pocket. "Just open it," he encouraged, handing her the box.

Althea's fingers caressed the velvet box--her stomach immediately turning sour. Sirius, what have you done, she thought, inhaling a shaky breath and she slowly opening the box--her body wincing as the box creaked.

"No," she murmured as her eyes looked upon the necklace--the small diamond pendant catching the candlelight.

She looked to Sirius, who smiled.

"I--I can't wear this," she replied, furrowing her eyebrows and closing the box. "I'm sorry."

Althea placed the box on the table and shyly pushed it toward him. Sirius looked from the box to Althea and shook his head.

"Yes, you can," he replied, taking the box in his hands. "Think of it as a birthday gift."

Althea anxiously rubbed her upper arms. "My birthday is more than a month away."

"An early birthday gift," he corrected and winked--Althea did not smile. "You deserve beautiful things," he said solemnly, looking into her eyes. Looking from Althea to the necklace, he frowned with concern. "Is it too small?"

"No, no," she answered, clasping her hands in her lap. "It must be expensive.... I couldn't accept that," she added and gently bit her bottom lip.

Sirius smiled warmly. "I found it with my spare wands," he explained, taking the necklace from the box. Althea watched as he dangled the necklace before her--the gold and diamond sparkling in the candlelight. "I've had it for years. I meant it as a gift on Prudence's birth," he explained his voice bearing a touch of sadness. He sighed and forced himself to smile. "Please," he continued, unclasping the necklace, "I'd love for you to wear it."

Althea shook her head. "Sirius, I--"

"Please," he interrupted, standing, "I would love to see this on you."

"Sirius," she murmured in feeble protest.

She straightened herself as she felt Sirius behind her. "May I?" he asked and Althea weakly nodded.

Althea closed her eyes as he swept her hair off her neck. Slowly, he let the necklace fall against her skin--the cool delicate metal heightening her uncomfortable excitement, as he stood so close.

"There," he murmured, sweeping Althea's hair back to its previous position--Althea released a shaky breath and opened her eyes. He returned to his chair and smiled as he looked upon Althea. "Beautiful."

Althea nervously slouched and rolled her shoulders forward--conscious of the enormous weight draped around her neck. She did not dare touch it, or did she look at it. He meant it for Prudence's birth, she thought--a small crease appeared between her eyebrows. What does this gift mean now? Sirius, pleased with himself, leaned back--his chair on its hind legs.

"Are you finished?" he asked, leaning forward.

Althea nodded. "Yes, I believe so," she answered quietly, straightening herself as Sirius stood.

As Sirius was about to take her plate, he hesitated and Althea caught her breath. Please, don't, she thought, remaining rigid. I don't want to push you away. Sirius took her plate, smiled, and walked toward the servant's door. Althea exhaled.

"What else does he have planned?" she whispered, watching a molten drop of candle wax slowly cascade down the long candle. "And can you have the courage to say no?"

Sirius--smiling--returned and placed the questionable salmon dish before her. It looks edible, she thought, attempting not to giggle at the thought-out garnish. A garnish? He took the time to prepare a garnish...unreal. I reckon dessert is some sort of flambé.

"Unfortunately," he began and sat, "the dessert's a soupy mess. This is it, love."

Althea picked up her fork and poked the salmon. "It looks lovely," she replied and picked up her knife. "Ours was almost unrecognizable," she continued and cut a small piece. "No, this will be good."

Sirius did not lift his fork and knife. Instead, he leaned forward and anxiously observed her as she placed the small piece of salmon into her mouth. Althea smiled faintly.

"How is it?" he asked, wrinkling his nose.

Althea's smile faded as she allowed herself to taste the overcooked and heavily seasoned salmon. Oh, this is right awful, she thought, unable to muster an encouraging and sympathetic smile. It isn't as awful as ours, but it's very close.

After choking down the piece of salmon she asked, "You followed the recipe?"

"Well, yeah," he answered, examining his plate of salmon.

Althea placed her utensils on her plate--she wouldn't force herself to eat anymore. "The recipe..." she began, but refused to utter anything harsh.

Sirius took a bite and immediately pulled a face. "Oh, this is awful," he remarked, sliding his plate away from him. "Why didn't you say so?"

Althea shrugged.

Sirius frowned as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I hadn't cooked a proper dinner in years," he explained--his expression a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment. "I'm--"

"It's all right," she said soothingly, placing her hand on his forearm. "Stay with breakfasts, then."

"You enjoy my breakfasts?" he asked, his eagerness apparent.

"Well...yes," she replied and retracted her hand, realizing the tenderness of her gesture. "They're better than cold cereal or nasty porridge," she added--her voice awkward and unnatural.

Althea caught her breath as Sirius clasped her hand. "I would never subject you to porridge," he pledged, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. "Never."

"Right," she breathed and took in a deep gulp of air. "I enjoyed the salad."

"It's about the only course we could enjoy," he replied, lifting her hand off the table. "It's a right awful book, love," he remarked, gently bending and extending her fingers.

"Afina's never been much of a cook," she replied as Sirius' fingers slid and interlocked with hers. She glanced to the clasped hands--she had forgotten how small her hands felt in his. "No motor oil."

"What?"

Althea nodded toward their clasped hands.

Sirius briefly lifted his fingers to look at them. "Right," he said and chuckled quietly.

Uncomfortable with her careless observation, Althea continued, "Yes, well, Afina's never been much of a cook. She hasn't learnt with the cooks and all."

"Oh," Sirius murmured. He furrowed his eyebrows and brought his other hand to their clasped hands. "Where did you learn, then?"

"Well, first, I learnt from Marie," she explained, focusing her concentration on her words, but discovering it difficult to do so. "Then, I learnt from Mrs. Evans," she continued and sighed sadly.

Lily thought it so strange that I would take such pleasure in suburban life, she thought, frowning. I was just Althea and I hadn't been that since....

"It reminded me of the few memories I had with my mother," she said--aware of the growing lump in her throat. Althea pulled her hand away and placed it in her lap. "I reckon I'd like to take a walk...if you don't mind."

Sirius leaned back in his chair. "No, no, go ahead," he replied and sighed ruefully. "I have a bit of cleaning up."

Althea hurriedly left the house and started down the path that led to her favorite part of the beach. Picking up her heels, she dug her toes into the sand--it not yet cooled by the evening atmosphere--as she walked along the shore. She looked up to the encroaching night sky--to the stars that started to twinkle through--and sighed.

"All that needs to be mentioned is my father, and revisiting the emotional wreck that is my life will be complete," she whispered, lowering her head as to look out to sea. "All in one bloody day too."

Althea heard the muffled footsteps to her left and did not bother to turn her head to acknowledge them.

"It's such a beautiful evening," Sirius explained as Althea watched a wave gently roll to shore. "I couldn't spend it inside.... Althea, I've made an awful mess of things--"

"No," she interrupted, refusing to look at him. "Dinner was lovely and it was very thoughtful."

"No," he insisted, "your relationship with Remus."

Althea realized her brief walk had ended. Why would he mention that now?

"What relationship?" she remarked, turning her face to look at him.

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Would you like to sit?" she asked as she lowered herself onto the warm sand.

Sirius nodded. "So, you didn't have a relationship?" he asked as he sat next to her. "But I thought...."

"I thought so too...at one time," she replied, pulling her knees to her chest. "But we were never meant for a romantic relationship.... He's too bloody frustrating."

"He is," Sirius laughed quietly. "I'd forgotten how much so."

Althea rested her cheek on knees as she studied him. "I can't believe you're okay with that," she said as Sirius pulled his knees to his chest. "The last time...."

"I was an idiot," he finished, resting the side of his face against his knees.

Althea let out a small laugh. "You used that excuse then."

Sirius lifted his head. "Did I?"

Althea nodded. "Anyway, we couldn't continue. Remus couldn't endanger the lives of children," she explained, brushing away the stray strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes, "and it would've been a scandal."

Sirius let out a small chuckle. "You didn't believe that, did you?"

"Of course not," she replied, lifting her head and looking out to sea--her lips curving into a smile. "He didn't want to incur your wrath."

Sirius' bark-like laugh startled Althea. "And the murderous madman is a better choice?" he asked and shook his head. "That'll look bloody brilliant."

"Indeed," she laughed.

"I mean, if he was such a danger," he began to ask, motioning with his hand for emphasis, "why did he take the job in the first place?"

"Excellent point," she agreed, resting her hands behind her. "Ask him...although, he'll only tell you that you can't possibly understand because you aren't a werewolf."

"He still uses that?"

"Repeatedly."

Sirius messed the back of his hair. "He is frustrating," he sneered.

Althea smiled, as did Sirius.

"Right," he breathed, nodding.

Althea inhaled a deep gulp of air as she recognized Sirius' hopeful expression. She abruptly shifted her gaze out to sea as he reclined next to her. Why am I fighting, she wondered as a warm and pleasant evening breeze caressed her skin. Closing her eyes, she listened as the waves receded along what seemed to be thousands of tiny shells.

She felt Sirius turn onto his side. "Moony told me," he began slowly, "that flowers, and love letters, and candlelight wouldn't work anymore."

"That's because Moony can't afford them," she replied and opened her eyes.

Sirius laughed with surprise.

"He can't afford to use up the parchment or ink," she explained, smiling wryly. "Or waste candles."

"Remember his allergies," Sirius added, gently smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear. "A runny nose isn't very romantic...not even for a Healer."

Althea did not force him away as his hand lingered for a moment against her cheek.

"Is he right, though?"

"About the love letters and such?" she asked quietly.

Sirius nodded.

Althea thought a moment before responding with, "Somewhat."

"How so?" he asked, his fingertips leisurely gliding up and down her upper arm.

"It takes more than just those things," she answered softly, looking at the small space of sand between them. "A woman must feel as if she matters...as if she only matters."

Sirius lifted her chin with his forefinger and thumb. "You do matter," he murmured, closing his eyes. "You always have."

Althea's head jerked forward, but she caught herself doing so. No, she would not break her promise. Althea gently pulled away, and Sirius--frustrated--inhaled a large breath through his nostrils. Look what you've done, she thought as Sirius' face registered hurt and confusion. You've let it continue too long.

"Please," she demanded weakly, "stop it."

Sirius smoothed the hair from his face and let his hand fall heavily against his thigh. "What?" he asked, his voice upset. "I don't--"

"This," she said, staring at her folded hands in her lap, "this entire night."

"Why d'you come out here, Althea?"

Althea remained quiet.

"Why did you come out here?" he demanded.

Althea shook her head as she stood. "I don't know," she replied, refusing to look at him.

"Don't lie to me," he said heatedly as he stood. "Why d'you come out here?"

Althea did not answer as she started to walk away. How she hated sand at this moment! It was unstable and one could never walk off determined without looking ridiculous. I should be laughing at the absurdity of this, she thought, holding her arms out somewhat away from her for balance.

"Why did you come out here?" he asked as he caught up to her. "Why did you agree to dinner, then?"

"Please," she begged, walking quickly, "just--just leave me alone!"

"No," he replied firmly. "What do you want, Althea?"

"I want to return to my home," she answered, concentrating on how her bare feet sank into the sand. "Now--"

"No," he insisted. "What do you want?"

"I want you to leave me alone."

"No, you don't."

Anger erupted at Sirius' confident and knowing reply. "How do you know what I want?" she accused shortly. "You never gave me a chance to decide what I want!"

"Decide now."

"Stop being such a an idiot."

"You want what we had, Althea," he replied, grabbing her upper arm. "Admit it!"

"Just--just leave me alone!" she demanded angrily and fiercely pulled her arm away from him. Althea quickened her pace.

"No," he insisted and Althea inhaled a deep breath. "What do you want, Althea? Tell me now."

Althea stopped and roughly rubbed her forehead. She turned to face him. "It's what you want," she admitted, sadly looking into his eyes, "but we can't."

"Yes--"

"We can't, Sirius," she insisted, her hands beginning to tremble. "Please, let me go," she begged--her voice wavering. Her head bent, she continued on the path toward her home without Sirius at her side.

"Althea, listen to me," Sirius called after her. "I love you."

Althea stumbled, but continued to walk. And that makes everything all right, doesn't it, she thought as she, barefoot, gingerly walked along the gravel path.

"Althea--"

"Stop!" she interrupted, massaging her right temple. She turned to look at Sirius, who had stopped where the path and beach met. "First, you want me, and then, you hate me...and now, you want me? Make up your bloody mind!"

"I have," he replied resolutely. He laughed from frustration and pulled at his hair. "I want you!"

"Now," she replied, allowing her hand to fall and slap her thigh, "but you'll discover more and what then?"

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. "What could be worse than keeping the truth of Prudence from me?"

Althea shook her head and continued on her way as Sirius growled and ranted about Althea's insufferable behavior.

"Plenty," she murmured, walking toward her home.