That one looks like a duck…with a slightly malformed head…
A soft sigh escaped from Susan’s lips, making the parchment that she was supposed to be writing an essay about…what was it again? Werewolves? That potion? At any rate, the parchment flew up a little, and Susan paid little to no attention to dedicating a brain-cell to the essay, instead gazing out the window at the marvelous blue sky and the puffy, white clouds that lazily floated across.
He was on her mind again. Why? Wasn’t Roger enough? It used to be. His kisses made her stomach flutter and her knees go a little weak. Now…they seemed obligatory rather than pleasurable.
Celia sat to the right of Susan, her nose about two centimeters away from her own essay. She was completely enthralled with it, writing every word that could possibly relate to the subject. Her lovely, shiny, blonde hair partially blocked Celia’s face from view.
“What’s wrong with me?” Susan suddenly said, still examining the malformed duck-cloud.
“Well, lots of things actually,” Celia replied. “In what area are you worried about?”
“Thanks, Celia.” Susan flicked her eyes onto her best friend. “I was more specifically referring to Roger and…him.”
“Well, you heard my suggestion.”
“I don’t want to dump Roger!” Susan snapped defensively. “I…I just…don’t know. I just want things to be a little different.” Susan sighed again, frustrated at herself for not knowing what she really wanted.
Celia responded by scratching more feverishly. Susan returned to gazing out the window. Several minutes passed.
The longer Susan stared, the better his face formed in her mind. His green eyes, his jet-black hair, his charming smile…
“Whatever. I’m not going to dump Roger.”
“If you say so.” Celia stretched suddenly, apparently finished with her essay. “The Quidditch match is tomorrow, right? Are we still meeting up with Luna and that other boy? What was his name?”
“I don’t know. He’s some friend of Luna,” Susan replied half-heartedly. Both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were playing in the match.
“Alright,” Celia said. “Well, I’m off. Cho wanted me to fix her hair, or something, so I have to go do that. You should really work on your essay.”
“Yes, Mum.”
-/-/-/-
The following morning, Susan lacked an appetite. Her stomach felt “wooshy,” as she so logically described to Celia. Celia rolled her eyes and ignored the situation. As they walked down to the Quidditch pitch, Harry passed by the girls, running towards the changing room.
Harry accidentally jostled Susan’s arm. He switched to running backwards, smiling a bit as he apologized. She quickly replied, “Oh! No! Don’t worry about it!” as he ran off. He gave no response. Susan swore that he scent rubbed off, and when Celia was greeting another friend, Susan sniffed her arm. She smiled wholly, promising herself that she would never wash the arm.
The game was excellent. There were many close saves, goals, and near-fatal falls. Roger flew amazingly, even flying somewhat close to where Susan sat in the stands to blow a kiss at her. Susan merely smiled, a little embarrassed at his action. In the end, Gryffindor won, 280 to 20, much to Ravenclaw’s dismay.
“I can’t believe Potter!” Roger was complaining several hours after the game. He and Susan were sitting comfortably in a chair in the Ravenclaw common room. Roger was completely outraged at the outcome of the game, saying that Ravenclaw had been practicing through every sort of weather to beat Gryffindor.
“Yeah, he was pretty good,” Susan said unhelpfully. She diverted her eyes from Roger, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to see any of her feelings for Harry. She felt bad enough for sitting with him, feeling so uncomfortable all curled up and close.
“Ugh! I’m just so…infuriated!” He said again.
“Well, it’s not the end of the world. It’s only Quidditch,” Celia said. She sat opposite of the two, writing a note to someone. The last rays of the golden sun were reflected in her hair, nearly casting return rays.
“Only Quidditch? Quidditch is everything!” Roger exclaimed. He jumped up from the seat, making Susan virtually fall out as well. “Quidditch is my life!”
“Jeez Celia, don’t you know?” Susan teased. “Quidditch is everything! Everything! Your morning porridge? Brought to you by Quidditch! Your lovely hair clip, that I must simply borrow sometime? Made in part by Quidditch! Your summer holidays to France? Quidditch!”
Roger roared with laughter and for an abnormal amount of time. He was doubled over, his face red, heaving greatly. Small drops of saliva made bids of freedom from his gaping mouth. Roger’s entire appearance was embarrassing, making Susan’s cheeks flare up slightly.
“And this is why I love you, Susan! You’re so funny! I just can’t get enough of you!”
The comment made Susan’s heart jump uncomfortably. Susan and Celia exchanged glances. Roger must have noticed because he said, “What? What’s with the ‘We know something’ looks?”
“Nothing,” Susan replied quickly. She plastered a big smile on her face to aid in winning him over. “Just…I forgot about the essay for that class, and I just remembered it!”
“Yeah, Susan! You better, er, go work on it!” Celia said with the same amount of fakeness. All that was needed to complete the image was a thumbs up from Celia.
Roger gave Susan a quizzical look, but complied. He walked over to Susan and put his arms around her, squeezing her to his chest so that Susan could scarcely breathe.
“I don’t want my little pumpkin pastry to fall behind,” he said happily. He let go of her slightly, putting a kiss on the top of her head.
“Thanks, Roger.” Susan placed a small peck of a kiss on his cheek and quickly walked upstairs into the dormitory.
That was close, she thought as she pulled out the essay. Too close. This can’t keep going on. I need to end it.
-/-/-/-
The following morning at breakfast, Roger was as loud and obnoxious as ever. He was practically yelling in everyone’s ears when they were hardly a foot away, he was making a mess of his porridge, and he was embarrassing Susan on top of it.
“…And I said, ‘Let them eat cake for all I care!’” Roger yelled at Celia, who merely smiled and practically threw her spoon into her bowl. Roger, again, roared with laughter at his anecdote. He slammed his fist on the table, making several oranges jump up and roll slightly.
“Susan!” Celia said harshly, but with a smile. “We should talk for a minute.”
Susan looked up. She had been trying her best to block out the entire situation by reading her Potions book. Roger had been going at his story for the past fifteen minutes, which no one was really listening to. It had to do with something along the lines of a rabbit, Switzerland, and his auntie. Somehow Susan was glad that she was not a part of Roger’s shenanigans.
Celia pushed herself off the bench with her arms. She glared a bit at Roger, who was still laughing, and began to walk out of the Great Hall. Susan got up quickly and followed.
Upon getting out of the noise and away from Roger, Celia said, “He has got to go. You need to get rid of him, and soon. I can’t stand it anymore! Every morning, it’s the same old thing: He yells, he splatters food all over my robes, and he laughs like a wildebeest! I’m sick of it!” Celia stamped her foot to emphasis her distress.
“I know,” Susan replied glumly. “I just can’t. He’s like a wart that won’t go away.”
“That has got to be the worst comparison that anyway has ever made. Actually,” Celia said with some thought, “that’s perfect. He is a little wart.”
Susan sighed. “I think I may ask Harry out. You’re right, this is ridiculous. I’m getting nowhere in this relationship. Roger and I are over.”
“Atta girl.”
My Magical Romance by MrsDanRadcliffe27
Chapter Notes: Drama is comingggg.