Author: DangerouslyAvril PM
because it's not like a boy like him would ever really notice a girl like her, right? For the 'Five Kisses' Competition on the HPFC forum.Rated: Fiction T - English - Words: 1,669 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 1 - Published: 07-06-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7151615
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
For the 'Five Kisses Competition' on the HPFC forum.
A/N: For the sake of this story, I'll be altering Susan's age so she's the same age as Cedric.
I do not own Harry Potter.
Even at twelve, Susan Bones is an expert at being invisible.
Not literally, of course, but figuratively. So she's not hideous, but she's so - bland, but with straight auburn hair and dark eyes; she's pretty much the epitome of normal. Of boring. Of girl-next-door. And she doesn't even have Hermione Granger's straight-O records or Hannah Abbott's lighthearted sense of humour to make up for it. No, she's just her – Susan Bones, (Figurative) Invisiblility Extraordinaire.
Which is why, of course, she's sitting at the bleachers, gazing wide-eyed at the dark-haired boy as he soars through the air on his polished broom. His eyes are bright blue, like sapphires, and his smile makes her feel like melting into a puddle of boring, ordinary Susan-ness – not in a romantic way, of course; they're best friends, after all. She watches him fly for an an hour, until the game finally ends. Yeah, so she doesn't even like Quidditch, but so what? He's her best friend, and that's all that counts.
As he walks to the exit, he smiles at her. "Hey, Susan," he yells over the triumphant screams of the Hufflepuff team. It was their first victory in ages – she couldn't blame them, but hello? It's just Quidditch, for God's sake. And plus, he's smiling that smile and – oh, shut up, Susan.
"Great game!" she screams back. He grins back at her, leans over and kisses her on the cheek. It's only a light, brief brush of his lips on her skin, but she freezes. She can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, and it takes all her willpower to wave back at him and not completely freak out. Eventually, she manages to calm herself down and convince herself that it was a casual kiss, and it didn't really mean anything.
Because it's not like a boy like him would ever really notice a girl like her, right?
She's sitting alone at the edge of the river bank. Her too-long legs are dangling over the edge, the half-undone laces brushing the water surface, but she doesn't notice. She's lost in a world of black and white and greys, contrasting with the stark white of her sketchbook page. Her limbs are clumsy, but her fingers are long and graceful; an artist's fingers.
She shrieks in surprise, the pencil falling out of her hand. She fumbles around the grass, and her glare meets a pair of faintly amused bright blue eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Susan asks. He offers her the temporarily forgotten pencil, and she takes it, sniffing haughtily. He just laughs.
"What, I'm not allowed to say hi to my best friend?" he asks teasingly, tugging on her red-brown ponytail. She tries to glare at him, but damn, he's smiling that smile again and she melts.
Just friends, remember?
"Whatever," she huffs. She places her sketchbook reverently on the grass beside her. "So, what's up?" she asks, hugging her knees to her practically microscopic chest.
"You've been avoiding me," he accuses, not bothering to beat around the bush. It was just one of the things she loves about him. No – likes, not loves.
"No, I haven't," she lies. She'd just hit thirteen the other day, and not only were her limbs suddenly too long and her body suddenly too skinny, she'd had feelings that weren't very best-friend-ish. Blaming it on the hormones, she'd decided that it would be best if she simply stayed away from him until she was done with her so-called 'awkward stage'.
"Liar," he says lightly. He brushes her cheek lightly with his fingertips. "Look, Susie," he begins, "whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm your best friend, remember?"
She refuses to look into his eyes. "Look," she said, "I'm just going through a -" She cuts off suddenly, because he's kissing her and they're best friends and she's not in love with Cedric Diggory -
Before she can help herself, she pushes him away. There's an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes, which she refuses to meet as she grabs her sketchbook and runs.
She doesn't take the pencil.
"May I have this dance?" he asks formally. It's a formality, that the new prefects should dance with all his house members, and it's not a choice. She nods stiffly, and takes his hand. He lifts her hand to his lips, and she can feel her face heat up. Ignoring it, she lets him lead her out onto the dance floor. He's a very good dancer, but she stays silent, and so does he. She feesl his intense blue gaze, and avoids his eyes.
Before she knows it, the song ends, and he takes his leave to dance with Cho Chang, his very pretty, very perfect and very annoying girlfriend.
She glares at the clasped hands and wishes she could Diffindo the fingers, so tightly laced together. Stop it, Bones, she admonishes herself. It's not like he's your boyfriend. Or any kind of friend, really, after all that craziness.
He'd probably forgotten about it anyway. It was ages ago, that kiss, and she was different now – fifteen, less boring, more popular, and one hundred percent over it.
She stands up and tries to get the image of the back of their perfectly matched (chocolate and ebony) heads, put together in a show of affection out of her own head - which never matched with his, she reminds herself. And then she wants to smack herself for even thinking that.
"C'mon," she says, "let's go." She makes to get up in a show of pretend-casualness, but Hannah gives her a knowing smile.
"You are so in love with Cedric Diggory," she tells her when they're safely out of earshot.
Susan scowls at her best friend. "I am not," she denies wholeheartedly.
But she's lying through her teeth, and she knows it.
It's almost like some kind of twisted nightmare when he sits down next to her. She's sitting at the edge of the water, doodling absently in her sketchbook, when he comes over. "Nice sketch," he offers, and she looks down at the page. It's a face. She'd just been starting on the eyes.
"Thanks," she murmurs, and puts it away. "So, um. Hey," she says lamely.
He looks at her. "I just wanted to say," he begins, "that...Dumbledore made me Head Boy." That's not what he was going to say, and they both know it.
She gives him a blank stare. "Um, okay. Congratulations."
Silence. He opens his mouth, like he wants to say something, then closes it again. She glances over at him. His eyes – bright blue as ever – are conflicted.
Before she can stop herself, she blurts out, "I miss you."
He blinks, startled. "Pardon?"
She glares at him, fully aware of the blood rushing to her cheeks. "You heard what I said."
He blinks again. "You know, that was what I was gonna say to you, but I kinda...I dunno. Chickened out." He gives her a half-smile, almost desperate, and continues. "I'm sorry about the...you know. I was a stupid kid, and it was an accident. Uh...so, are we okay?" He holds out his hand.
She's aware of the dull pain in her chest, but she ignores it. She takes it and smiles at him. "Definitely."
He grins, relieved. "Excellent. I'll see you around, then, Susie." He leans over and kisses her lightly on the cheek, and springs up, looking slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, but I have to go meet the rest of the prefects now. Meeting, you know."
"Sure," she says with a nod. "Later." She ignores the dull, sinking pain in her chest, which grows with every word he says.
He waves, and she looks down at her drawing. She'd been subconsciously drawing Cedric. It's a good sketch, but she rips the page out and tosses it in the lake.
She closes the book, and wonders if this is what heartbreak feels like.
"So," she says with a smile, "Triwizard champion, huh?" He shrugs, but she can tell that he's bursting with excitement.
"Not yet," he says, trying to look modest. "Anyway, Harry might get it. He's a good kid."
"You will. I can feel it," she says confidently. He's quiet for a while.
"You know, you're the best friend ever," he tells her. She smiles halfheartedly, 'cause she knows that's all she'll ever be.
"Cho's a lucky girl," she says softly. He looks at her, not understanding. And then she's kissing him, forceful and desperate, and she can't help thinking it's almost like a goodbye kiss.
Finally, they pull away from each other. "I love you, y'know?" he says. His eyes are bright, and he's smilingthat smile, that even after so many years, has never failed to make her melt.
"Love you too."
They smile at each other, and Cedric looks at his watch. "I gotta go," he says reluctantly. "Later."
"You'll do fantastic," she tells him sincerely. "Goodbye."
She watches him walk away. Everything is perfect, she muses, so why is it that the pain in her chest is worse than ever?
Why, she wonders, does she feel like she's never going to see him again?
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