Chapter 6
The next several days felt hazy as she went through the motions. She chatted with her patients, smiled at the mediwitches and potioneers she’d pass in the hallways, but inevitably her mind would stray back to the book that now resided on her bedside table, and the notes in the margins.
Years of notations filled the pages, and she could see where Hector’s bold penmanship had begun to falter, and where his tremor had gotten so bad that it was nearly illegible. She wished she knew why he’d chosen to give her the book, when it was clearly his prized possession.
She was lost in her thoughts, mulling over the man’s life before St Mungo’s as she stepped out of a shop in Diagon Alley on a Tuesday afternoon. She’d had the day off and it was relatively quiet for Diagon Alley.
“Suze!” Her head snapped toward the voice, and she found Ron striding toward her, a grin plastered over his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. When he reached her, he slipped an arm around her and leaned in close. “Emma’s headed this way. I’m so sorry.”
Understanding crashed over her, and she tilted her head back, making a split second decision. “Kiss me,” she whispered, and before she’d gotten the words out, Ron’s lips were on hers, and his arms snaked around her, pulling her just as close as they’d been the night in her flat.
When he eased back, she was breathless and his eyes were wild. “Hi to you too,” she whispered, and he laughed, squeezing her hip affectionately. She thought about asking which was Emma, but her question was answered before she had the chance.
“Fancy seeing you here.” Susan looked around, gaze landing on a tall, willowy brunette with eyes nearly as blue as Ron’s. She brought a cigarette to her lips, and arched an eyebrow as she examined Susan from head to toe.
Ron just let out a noncommittal grunt, not taking his eyes from Susan. When he made no move to introduce them, Emma took it upon herself. “You must be Ron’s flavor of the week. I’m Emma.” She flashed a dazzling smile, but Susan was ready.
“I know who you are.” She let her voice take on a slight edge. “I’m Susan Bones.”
If the woman knew her name, she didn’t let it show. She shrugged one shoulder, dropping the butt of her cigarette and stubbing it out with the toe of her boot. Shaking another free from a carton from her handbag, she offered one to Ron.
The first flicker of surprise she showed was when he refused. “And here I was thinking I knew your vice,” she laughed, and he shot her a look.
“Ron’s always full of surprises,” Susan said lightly. “I knew he didn’t really have a type, but I would have put a pretty sickle on you not being it.”
Her laugh was cut short when Ron leaned down to kiss Susan’s temple. “That’s because you’re my type.” Emma’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Have been since you held my hand when we were eleven.”
Susan laughed, the rush of memories flooding through her. Their first night at Hogwarts, she’d slipped going up the stairs from the boats, and he’d been the closest hand to grab. She hadn’t known he even remembered that. She leaned into him, and didn’t have to fake her smile.
“What can I say? I don’t play games.” She slipped her arm around his waist, and hooked a finger through one of his belt loops to make a point.
The other witch looked as if she were about to be sick, and Ron looked satisfied. “Well I hate to run, but we have plans, and Mum wanted you to come to dinner Sunday, I forgot to mention earlier.” Ron turned them away, obviously dismissing his ex girlfriend. Susan gave the woman a little wave as Ron steered her down the street, and she swore the smoke was coming from her ears rather than the cigarette pinched between her fingers.
Halfway down the street, Ron turned into a small shop, and Susan followed, curious. Inside, Ron heaved a sigh. “Merlin’s blue bollocks. I am so sorry about that.” He pushed his hand through his hair, and Susan waved him off.
“It’s fine. It’s the least I could do.” She peered around the shop, though it looked as if it was halfway through some kind of remodel. “I'm always happy to take the piss out of an ex. Honestly it got me out of my head for a few minutes, so maybe I should be thanking you.”
Ron laughed, leaning back against a countertop, his shoulders finally relaxing. “What are you in your head about?” He sounded genuinely curious, but Susan hesitated.
People never quite seemed to understand how to respond when death was brought into the conversation, but it was a part of her life as a healer.
“I lost a patient,” Susan admitted. “He was one of our long terms and it came as a surprise.” She crossed her arms and averted her eyes, but as she’d said, Ron was full of surprises.
“I’m sorry, Susie. I’m sure he appreciated having you as his healer.”
Susan smiled sadly, hugging her arms tighter around her. “Thank you. It’s not really something you ever get used to.” Ron nodded, watching her with an inscrutable expression. She waved to the space around them. “So what is this?”
Ron looked around, and cracked a smile. “Mariana’s expanding. She asked me to help out with some of the planning after I helped Fred and George last year.”
She nodded, and glanced back towards the door, wondering if it was safe to leave yet. She didn’t really have anywhere to be, but she was having conflicting emotions around their circumstances. On one hand, she did appreciate Ron letting her repay the favor and getting her out of her head. On the other, it felt as if she shouldn’t be relying on Ron emotionally. They’d agreed to one night, nothing more.
“Can I ask you a question?” Susan looked back towards Ron, and he’d shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He looked uncertain, and Susan felt a spike of anxiety shoot through her.
“Go on,” she urged. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and Susan’s stomach knotted. “Unless you’re going to tell me you’re pregnant, I’m not sure what would have you so tongue tied,” she teased, and he laughed, the tension dissipating slightly. “Unless you’re regretting that night,” she continued.
“Not regretting it,” he said immediately. “It was the best night I’ve had in a while.” He grinned sheepishly. “We said one night, but I was wondering if you’d be up for more?”
Susan blinked at him, her brain struggling to keep up. “More?” The word came out as a squeak more than anything, and his face flushed.
“Obviously, no pressure, no strings. I just thought that…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well I don’t know what I thought other than it was a good night. Neither of us are really looking for more right now, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.”
Susan managed to find herself enough to close her gaping mouth, and then mulled over his words. Ron’s cheeks were growing steadily more pink, and before she could formulate an answer, he was backpedaling. “I’m sorry that was a stupid thing to say. Forget I said that. It’s not—“
“I’m not saying no,” she interrupted, and he fell silent. “I enjoyed that night. I just want to make sure if we go through with this we’re on the same page so we don’t end up hating each other.”
Ron looked relieved, and she went out on her own limb. “Come over tonight and we can bang out the details?”
He grinned at her double entendre, and nodded. “Tonight it is, then. ‘Round eight?”
She took that as her cue to leave, and left him grinning there in the half-remodeled bakery with a smile of her own. It wasn’t what she’d expected, but she couldn’t say she wasn’t looking forward to having him in her bed again.