First Time for Everything Fest: FIC: Clean Up in Aisle Seven Title: Clean Up in Aisle Seven Author:nestinghedwig/LinW Rating: PG Word count: 1,889 words Content/Warning(s): None. Summary: Severus and American supermarkets (not to mention, culture) don’t easily mix. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended; no monetary gain will be made from this story.
Clean Up in Aisle Seven
The loud overhead instrumental music reverberated in the excessively large SuperSaver grocery store. Calculating that at least four or more Hogwarts Great Halls could easily fit within the building footprint, Harry selected a grocery cart from the cart corral and waited for Severus to join him. The older wizard was parking their brand-new Subaru Forrester.
Clackety-thump. Clackety-thump. The front right wheel on the cart wobbled. Clackety-thump. Clackety-thump.
“The trolley appears to be defective. Perhaps you should acquire a replacement,” Severus commented as he joined Harry.
A woman and her shaky cart passed to their left. Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack. Skree. Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack. Skree.
“Or perhaps not.”
Harry and the woman shared a smile as they parted to do battle with their recalcitrant wheeled contraptions. While Severus stopped at the in-store bakery, the younger wizard pushed their cart through the produce department. He paused beside a display of asparagus and mentally tried to convert the $4.99 per pound price into the more familiar pounds or sickles. Deciding it didn’t really matter, he selected a pre-wrapped bundle and placed it in the cart.
Moving on to the multi-hued display of peppers, Harry reviewed Severus’ precise shopping list to double check the variety and quantity. For some reason the bell peppers all seemed to come in pre-wrapped packages of three – one green, one red, and alternately, orange or yellow. A quick examination of the surrounding displays revealed that the carrots, radishes, tomatoes, and cucumbers were also in pre-wrapped parcels. It was rather frustrating not to be able to select the vegetables individually.
Although he had often visited the shops with his Aunt Petunia while growing up in Surrey, shopping in this American super store felt as alien to him as had his first foray into Diagon Alley. He felt the beginnings of a headache growing. With a murmured ‘excuse me’, awoman reached an impatient hand around him him and plucked a plastic clamshell of habanera peppers from the display; Harry shuddered at the casual invasion of his personal space.
Glancing once again at the list, he began examining the pre-wrapped bags of shredded salad mix, trying to locate one with the least browned edges on the lettuce leaves. Severus batted the bag from his hands, barely giving it a second look.
“Mixed greens, not that sorry excuse for a salad.”
The Potions master sorted through elastic banded clumps of endive, red leaf lettuce, baby spinach, and other varieties. Harry picked through the round heads of iceberg lettuce, searching for the densest mass.
“Don’t bother with that,” Severus called over his shoulder as he headed toward additional salad vegetables. “There is almost no nutritional value in it.”
Harry nibbled his bottom lip, and then walked toward a refrigerated case containing bottles of salad dressing, still holding the head of lettuce. He examined the selection, eventually choosing a jar of chunky bleu cheese, and snatched a foil bag from an overhead display of mass-produced croutons. Harry looked up at the hanging aisle markers, searching for his final ingredient. Since Severus’ attention was directed toward fruit, he did not notice Harry’s departure.
Clackety-thump. Clackety-thump.
Severus looked up as Harry rejoined him just as he was steering the cart into the pasta-rice-sauce-soup aisle. He noticed the defensive look in the green eyes as Harry clutched his groceries. The Potions master raised an eyebrow.
Harry set his items in the cart. Iceberg lettuce, bleu cheese dressing, herb and garlic croutons, and bacon.
“It makes a wedge salad,” he explained quietly. “It’s the only vegetable Dudley would eat when he was on his diet. I must have made it a hundred times over the years, but I never got to eat even one bite.”
“You do realize that there is nothing diet about it, don’t you?”
Harry let out a laugh. “Never figured out the actual calorie count, but it must be well over a thousand. What’s next on the list?”
Clackety-thump. Clackety-thump.
Severus picked up a small bag of enriched rice, the word ‘ingredients’ catching his eye. In puzzlement, he read the words: Rice, Niacin, Ferric Orthophosphate, Thiamin Mononitrate and Folic Acid. Why ever did you need to enrich rice? After a quick inspection, a bag of plain rice bearing another company’s logo met with his approval. He picked up the box of fettucine Harry had just set into the cart and read: Durum Wheat Semolina, Niacin, Ferrous Sulfate, Thiamine Mononitrate (Vitamin B1), Riboflavin (Vitamin B2), Folic Acid, and a warning that stated: contains wheat processed on shared equipment with egg.
What the hell? How else could you make pasta if you didn’t include eggs?
Curious, he began to sort through all of the packaged food already in the cart. He picked up a box labeled ‘Sweet Cream Butter’ and was relieved to see that it only contained cream, milk and salt, but he was horrified to read the side of the tub of ‘Freshly Grated Parmesan Cheese’: Powdered cellulose to prevent caking, potassium sorbate as a preservative.
No, he thought. They were not going to ingest powdered anything. A store this large must have a cheese shop; he could grate his own parmesan cheese, thank you very much.
‘100% Natural Chicken Broth – 99% Fat free – No MSG Added!’ exclaimed the carton in Harry’s hands. Without words, Severus removed the waxed paper carton from his lover’s hands. Ingredients: Chicken stock, contains less than 2% of: Sea salt, Salt, Sugar, Natural Flavoring, dehydrated onions, yeast extract, chicken fat, canola oil, carrots, celery, onions.
“100% natural, my arse,” Severus sputtered and gingerly set the carton back on the shelf as carefully as if it were a volatile potion. He joined Harry in the meat department.
“Is something the matter?” Harry asked, suddenly wary of the change in the wizard’s demeanor. He was holding a plastic wrapped tray of cut up chicken boldly labeled ‘Pik of the Chix’, complete with a smiling cartoon chicken. Ignoring the fact that someone obviously couldn’t spell, chickens were anatomically unable to smile.
“Do you have any idea what Ferric Orthophosphate is and why it needs to be added to my rice?”
“Ferric Ortho-what?”
Clackety-thump. Clackety-thump.
Harry’s headache was growing in intensity. Between the ever-present perky music, the over-bright lights, the garbled overhead announcements, children in full-blown temper tantrums, the unwieldy carts, and Severus reading every single damned word on every single damned item before placing it in the damned wonky cart, the green-eyed wizard was ready to have a temper tantrum of his own.
Harry plucked a box of children’s cereal from the overabundant selection and tossed it in the cart. Severus looked up from examining two different brands of steel-cut oats. He opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off.
“I don’t give a shite what is in the box, and you’re not going to dissect it,” he snapped. “Teddy is coming for a visit in two days and I thought it might be fun for him to eat.”
The Potions master ignored the box with the cartoon leprechaun, rainbow-shaped marshmallows, and the promise of whole grain goodness and took a good look at his companion. There was an almost greenish tinge to his skin.
“Are you getting another headache?”
“The lights are haloed, so it’s heading into a full-blown migraine. Are we almost done?”
“We’re done. There should be a vial of headache draught in the glove box of the Forrester. Why don’t you go ahead and I’ll pay for this lot.”
“Here, you’ll need this.” Harry handed Severus their brand new SuperSaver Advantage Card. Severus turned the thick blue and yellow plastic card in his long fingers.
“What is this?”
“I signed up for it when you were parking the car. You hand it to the cashier and it will register the in-store specials. Do you need my Gringotts debit card or did you bring yours?” Seeing that Severus didn’t understand the purpose of the card, but was too stubborn to ask, Harry pointed to a yellow rack card beneath a box of cereal. “See this? It says the price of Crunchy O’s is 4 boxes for $10.00, but the non-SuperSaver price is $3.79 per box. Using the card, you save $1.29.”
“As if anyone needs four boxes of that dreck. No wonder Muggles have so many health issues”
Clackety-thump. Clackety-thump.
The green-eyed wizard curled up on the sofa and kept his eyes closed. The lights had finally stopped exploding behind his eyelids. He could hear Severus banging around in the kitchen, apparently making dinner, if the smell of roasting chicken was any indication.
Harry’s mind began to wander as the potion slowly took the edges off his headache. He was exhausted from the move into the farmhouse, and there were still days of unpacking left to do. Both of their libraries still needed to be resized, sorted, and shelved. And the frustrating trip to the grocery store had only notched up his personal stress level. No wonder it had triggered a migraine.
Maybe their move to the heart of the American Midwest was a mistake, he thought. They should have moved to Isle of Mann or the Hebrides, and not had to deal with the culture shock of moving to a new continent. Or they just could have remained hidden behind the wards at Grimmauld Place. Harry rubbed between his eyes. No, he knew in his heart that this move was the right one. They needed to be somewhere no one had ever heard of The-Boy-Who-Lived or The-Spy-Who-Euthanized-Dumbledore. And they especially needed to be someplace where no one continued to question Harry’s sanity for loving Severus.
Harry sat up. He noticed the shopping receipt and a bright orange flyer on the table beside him. Picking up the receipt, he noted that they had purchased 33 items, had a balance of $86.82 with a total savings of $11.66. They also seemed to have earned $0.20 in Fuelperks!, whatever the hell those were. He set down the receipt and examined the orange sheet. It was a calendar of events for the area. That looked promising.
Severus’ footsteps clicked on the hardwood floor. He was carrying two mugs of tea. Sitting on a cushion beside Harry, he held out one of the mugs.
“I may have overreacted a little bit at the grocer's.”
Knowing that this was as close to an apology he was going to get from the older man, Harry wrapped his hands around the ceramic vessel.
“You don’t have to go with me next time. I know it was frustrating for you.
“Or we could just plan to check out the Flea Market.” Harry handed Severus the flyer.
“Sounds unsanitary. Why ever would we want to go there?”
“They are not actually selling fleas, and before you ask, I haven’t a clue why it’s called that. I imagine it’s like a car boot sale.” At Severus’ doubtful look, Harry continued, “You like to rummage through used-book sellers'. There will probably be some books there. But that’s not even why I suggested it. There’s a Farmer’s Market there, too.”
“That sounds preferable to the hermetically sealed packaging at the SuperSaver.”
“There’s also a County Fair at the end of the month. I’ve never been to a fair before, have you?