Chapter 3
Sandwiched between Hermione and Pansy, Susan laughed at the loud groan from the men’s table, just across the way. The women had won the pub quiz, and Daphne raised her glass, toasting them for their efforts.
Taking a sip of her vodka soda, she considered for a moment. She didn’t know the last time she’d laughed so hard, or come out with friends just for the sake of having fun.
After leaving Megan, she’d thrown herself into work, a misguided attempt to make up for lost time. She’d gone out once soon after, ending the night alone, crying drunkenly on her kitchen floor and waking the next morning with a list of regrets. Since then, it had been work, work, and more work. Picking up extra shifts where she could, and reading everything she could get her hands on when she couldn’t.
It felt good to just… Be.
Pansy bumped her shoulder gently, drawing her attention, and flicked her eyes towards the loo.
Susan nodded, and followed her out of the booth. While Pansy used the facilities, she checked her hair and makeup. Like with most everything else, makeup had fallen off the list of necessities, and she’d enjoyed applying it again. It made her eyes shine, and focused attention on her lips. Her hair curled around her shoulders instead of being pulled up in a ponytail, and she looked more like the woman she remembered before her life began to fracture around her.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice that Pansy had reappeared, and was watching her in the mirror.
“Millie said she hasn’t seen you around much the last few days,” she said conversationally, bringing Susan out of her thoughts. Heat rose in her cheeks, shame at their last interaction nagging at her.
“I’ve been meaning to get her coffee to make up for it,” Susan sighed, and Pansy narrowed her eyes. She’d always been too perceptive for her own good.
“I don’t think there’s anything to make up for,” she said delicately. “She’s not the type to hold a grudge that isn’t warranted. And if she was holding a grudge, she wouldn’t be worried about you.”
Susan cringed. “She deserved better than what I said to her.”
Pansy leaned a hip against the sink, crossing her arms and cocking her head. “Did she? Or was she being a nosy bint that needed to be put back in her place?”
“She meant well.”
“And the highway to hell is paved with good intentions,” Pansy retorted, the muggle aphorism unexpected coming from the pureblood witch. “Regardless of her intent, she’s worried about you. She didn’t tell me what was said, just that she was afraid she’d upset you.”
Sighing, Susan turned her back to the mirror, leaning back against the sink and crossing her arms. “I’m not upset with her. It lasted for maybe ten minutes. Now…” she bit her lip, looking for the right words. “I’ve spent the last ten months trying to piece myself back together, and it has become painfully clear how much destruction was caused, and I’m embarrassed. I’m smarter than I acted, and now I’m facing the consequences.”
Pansy listened without comment, her expression impossible to read.
“Remember what I said, about that look that Neville gets when Hannah comes up?” Pansy looked away, turning so she was shoulder to shoulder with Susan, but waited for her to nod before continuing. “I never really understood it. I’d never had my heart broken like that. But when I think about losing him, I can imagine the depth of the hurt. He really loved her, and she broke him because she didn’t love him back. Not really.” She paused, and then went on. “I don’t know Megan well, but from what I’ve gathered, you gave her everything and she took and took and took until you had nothing left to give.”
Tears slid silently down Susan’s cheeks, splashing down her blouse and landing on the tiles at their feet.
“Don’t think that any of your friends hold that against you,” Pansy continued softly. “You did it out of love.”
“What was that about hell and good intentions?” Susan couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice, swiping the tears away.
“Well most of us are headed that way anyway,” Pansy joked. “Except Granger, according to Draco. Prat.”
Susan laughed. “They are insufferable, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, but we give them a pass for bringing us all together.” Pansy finally looked back at Susan, offering a smile. “I’m claiming you, though. Neville can take a seat.”
Susan laughed, and swiped away the last of her tears. “Thank you, Pansy.”
“Thank you for helping us wipe the floor with the boys. Now come on. They’re buying the drinks and they know we only drink top shelf.” She winked, and led the way from the toilets, Susan feeling lighter than she had in ages.
Rejoining the group, Susan laughed as she realized the boys had pushed a table up alongside the booth to extend the table and squished themselves in alongside their witches. Pansy slid into the chair that Neville had draped his arm over, and Ron tapped the table between him and Draco, the last remaining space.
She slipped into it, and Draco slid her a fresh drink. She smiled her thanks, and sat back, listening to the various conversations around the table.
Ron used the back of her chair to brace himself as he leaned over to talk to Draco behind her, and it was at that moment that she caught a glimpse of purple across the pub.
Her heart plummeted, and her stomach dropped as someone moved, and Megan came into clear view, leaning against the bar, her hand in the back pocket of a blond woman’s jeans. Her short purple hair was the same as Susan remembered, having combed her fingers through it countless times.
Across the table, Daphne was the first to catch Susan’s expression, twisting in her seat, trying to see what had drained the blood from Susan’t face. Turning back around, she caught Susan’s eye, and shook her head.
The lightness she’d felt after talking to Pansy evaporated, and she was left feeling ill.
The first time out in nearly a year, and she had to pick this pub, at this time?
Anger, shame, pain, and helplessness all warred in her chest, and she looked down into her lap, thinking of all the times she’d defended Megan’s behavior. Every time she’d justified things she’d done or said because… Because she’d been blinded by her pretty words and feeling as if she was needed.
Clenching her hands into fists, she leaned over, turning her head so Ron was the only one that could hear her. “Can you do me a favor and just… Keep your arm there? I’ll explain later, I just–”
He was nodding, and Susan felt her shoulders relax as his arm brushed against her back.
“Thank you,” she breathed, and when she pulled away, he smiled as if she’d just told him a funny story.
Nobody at the table batted an eye, and she was careful to keep her attention on her friends, refusing to look back up at the bar where she’d seen Megan.
An hour later as they were leaving the bar, she hung back slightly with Ron as the couples apparated away.
“Thank you for that,” she said in a rush. “I’m sorry if you didn’t–”
“Suze, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain.” Ron said easily, jerking his head towards the lane. “I’ll walk you home.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding, and as they walked, she relaxed again, crickets chirping in the dark. Autumn was coming fast, and the air was already cooling.
“I know you said I didn’t need to explain but—“
“My bad habit’s name is Emma,” Ron interrupted, rendering her silent. “I get it. I saw Megan when she came in, and I saw your face when you realized she was there.”
Susan’s stomach twisted, and she felt ill all over again. Ron glanced at her, and slowed to a stop, turning to face her. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, about the trauma of removing something to heal.” She nodded mutely. “Emma is…” he sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. “She’s a high. But after the high comes the crash. Every time.” Again, she nodded. She knew exactly what that felt like.
Ron looked at her, and she could see the resolution in his eyes. “It’s been almost six months and I still think about her.”
“Ten, and I do too.” Susan let her shoulders drop, and Ron sighed.
“I don’t feel like I can talk about it with the others,” he admitted.
“Because they’re happy in their relationships and you don’t want to be the killjoy.” This time Ron nodded. “And they know she’s bad for you, and you know it too, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting it.”
“Bloody bad habit.”
“Bloody bad habit,” Susan echoed, and Ron gave her a small smile. They walked down the lane, some of the lightness returning.
It was easier to face, when she didn’t feel so alone.