Stormy Skies ((Dylan and Susan))

[Dylan Cooper]

Finally having a day free of worry, free of homework and responsibility, Dylan had decided to use it to get some fresh air and relax. Considering he’d had a bit too much of the castle lately, he decided to head down to Hogsmeade and have a look around, maybe do some shopping and grab a Butterbeer. Not even bothering to check his appearance in the full-length mirror near the bottom of his bed, he turned and left his dorm room, refreshed after a good night’s sleep that he attributed to the hard Quidditch training he’d done on his own last night.

Traipsing down the stairs and across the common room, he noticed several Ravenclaws still straggling around and contemplating breakfast as he left, the brass knocker behind him making rude comments that he didn’t appreciate in the slightest. Making his way down the castle, he felt a slight nagging feeling on his torso and moved one hand down to his shirt, hidden beneath his hooded jumper, to adjust it slightly. Second-guessing now the choice of an open shirt beneath his hoodie, he shrugged it aside and entered the Great Hall for the first time in a while.

Taking a seat away from anyone else, he supposed that perhaps he was not the most approachable seeming prefect, but then again nor were most of them; D’rorah, Keaira, even Zane and Caitlin weren’t the friendliest people lately. Everyone was so caught up in the war that they didn’t exactly have a lot of time to be preoccupied with school life. Reaching for some bacon and toast and tipping a couple of fried eggs onto his plate, he poured himself some orange juice. Knife and fork in hand, he dug right into his breakfast, not caring about anyone else around him.

He certainly looked much better, much healthier now. With a few consecutive nights of good sleep, decent workouts on both the Quidditch pitch and in the Room of Requirement, three meals a day, and D’rorah back to her old self, his appearance and health had improved significantly. His schoolwork had picked up from its recent low point, as well as his wand work, and everything seemed to be going fine. Somewhat pessimistically, he was half expecting that something had to go wrong soon.

Not sure where to start, he meandered down the main road, pausing before several windows before entering Scrivenshaft’s. Needing several new quills, he picked up five or six regular ones from beside the counter and, after making a quick purchase, ventured back out onto the street. Not particularly needing anything else, he felt the wind pick up and looked up to see a grey sky, as far as the eye could see. Feeling a chill rush down his back, his feet started him off toward the Three Broomsticks. Pushing his way through the door, he wove over to his favourite table by the furthest window and took a seat, glad that it was empty. Setting his bag of quills down on the wooden table, he looked around briefly to see if anyone serving was nearby. The place, given the weather, was relatively full though, so he waited patiently, amusing himself by looking out the window.

[Susan Matthews]

Rolling out of bed hadn’t been particularly hard this morning. In a matter of minutes, Susan had successfully risen and changed out of her pajamas into clothes suitable for the chilly weather outside. It was her day to work her part time job at Honeydukes and she hoped to get some shopping in before her shift. With the majority of her homework underway, Susan left her school mind in the dormitory and began her trip down the stairs.

Seven flights of stairs later, Susan was entering the bustling Great Hall, where nearly all of the school was scrambling for breakfast. Susan saw a few of her friends here and there that on any other day, she might have sat down to eat with. Today, however, she was eager to get out to Hogsmeade. Before leaving the hall, Susan brushed by the Gryffindor table and grabbed a muffin off the end.

She ate the single muffin slowly as she left the castle and walked briskly toward the small wizard town. Tugging lightly on her sweater, she found the cold air more comfortable than the stifling warmth of her common room and that of the Great Hall. The fire was set to large and the too many bodies in one space to be comfortable. Outside though, the air was chilled, and oddly refreshing against the warmth of her skin.

The fresh air she craved was wonderful, and she hardly noticed as the short walk introduced her to the center of Hogsmeade. Confirming her work shift later in the day, Susan stopped by Honeydukes to check in. She spoke with her manager briefly before purchasing an assortment of candies, to snack on throughout the day.

She left almost as quickly as she had come, promising to return later in the afternoon. With her small bag of treats Susan walked the cobblestone streets, deciding where to head next. She planned to visit a book store down the street, but stopped briefly out front of the Three Broomsticks. Looking through it window, it only took her a moment to realize it was none other than Dylan she was looking at.

Recognizing her friend, her stomach knotted slightly as she gave him a friendly wave and turned to enter the warm bar. It had been too long since the two of them had last had a chance to speak. The last time they had been together must have been in the Room of Requirement, when the both of them had been preoccupied with thoughts of D’rorah. Weaving her way through the tables, Susan at last came to the table by the window where she had seen Dylan.

She helped herself to the chair next to him, setting her Honeydukes bag next to his on the table. “Hi Dylan,” Susan said with a small smile, remembering her conversation with Caitlin in the elf kitchens. Their lack of communication lately left her unsure of what to say next. She didn’t want to blame him for not telling her about Mallan’s death. She realized the last time they had the chance to speak was when D’rorah was in trouble, which left little time for small talk.

Following Dylan’s previous gaze out the window, she caught sight of the sky for the first time since leaving the castle. Looking out now she saw dark swirling clouds, a sure sign that rain at the least was on its way. After viewing the sky, she slowly returned her gaze to her friend next to her, folding her hands underneath the table. “How are you?” Susan asked finally for lack of anything better to say.

[Dylan Cooper]

Almost losing himself in the steadily darkening sky outside, it had been a few minutes now since placing his order with a passing waitress, and he just about failed to notice the face staring back at him through the window. Taking a moment to recognise one of his closest friends, he sent a happy smile through the bottom-frosted glass as she offered a wave. Assuming she would make her way into the building, he couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty that the last time he had seen her, aside from the night D’rorah had found her way back, must have been weeks ago now.

Of course, he’d seen her in various classes; but it wasn’t the same, not really. With everything that had been going on in his life, he’d attempted to minimise human contact as much as possible and focus on his work more than anything else. But now that D’rorah was back to her old self, he was lightening up on the extra work a bit and focusing more on his friends; or trying to, anyway. His eyes lingering on the doorway, he saw her enter and begin to weave her way over to him. Smiling brightly as she took a seat beside him, he returned her greeting happily and, without second-guessing himself, leaned over slightly to give her a hug. Given that they were seated facing the same way, it was slightly awkward, but got the message across.

He had missed her. To be honest, he had missed her a lot, and maybe isolating himself from her for the past few weeks hadn’t been the best option. He had certainly needed someone, but his encounters, however long or brief, with D’rorah, had made him crave solitude, crave being cut off, and scared him away from social contact. Just glad that she was here, that she seemed happy to see him, was testament to the concept that perhaps being with her might have helped him through what had turned out to be an incredibly difficult time.

“I’m good,” he replied, his voice quiet but not unusually so. “We haven’t talked in a while… How are you, how’ve you been?” he questioned, genuinely interested as to the answer she would give. “Look… I’m…” he began, unsure as to why exactly he was bringing this up. Giving a slight shake of his head, he failed to mention any more, leaving things as they were. Raising his eyes up to hers, he offered a small, shy smile, albeit a happy one.

[Susan Matthews]

Susan wasn’t prepared for the hug Dylan provided, but responded naturally nonetheless. As he leaned in, she managed to wrap her arms around him as best she could given the inconvenience of her seating choice. The hug, though a small gesture, enormously altered her disposition. She smiled without any thought as to why she should have to and she relaxed the grip her two hands held on each other.

Hearing his voice indicate he was doing well, relieved Susan immensely. She knew the lot of them had been having tough times lately. Caitlin’s seclusion was understandable, but Dylan . . . Susan had hoped to be able to talk to him, to at least be there for him. They hadn’t been together outside of a formal classroom setting in so long. It was refreshing to see his smile and to hear the ease in his voice.

As he returned her question, stating the obvious: they hadn’t talked in a while, Susan subconsciously let her smile lessen. Thinking about the past couple of week was difficult. Most of it was a blur of classes and homework, but she was able to perfectly recall her night with Caitlin and her strange run in with Bryan and the daffodils.

Speaking generally, Susan answered his question, “I’ve been alright.” Overall, the answer was true. Summing up her well being into one word was difficult, but “alright” seemed to suffice. She struggled silently with how best to describe her elemental capabilities to him. They were small to say the least, and she still wasn’t sure how she had managed to initiate changes.

Susan dismissed her own thoughts momentarily as Dylan began a new one. She looked to him with interest as he trailed off, ending with a slight shake of his head as he changed his mind. Curious, Susan looked to him, attempting to read what was going on. Providing only a small smile that revealed nothing, Susan couldn’t help but pry further. “What?” she asked carefully, as thoughts of what might be wrong swirled in her head.

[Dylan Cooper]

Nodding slightly as she replied, he supposed anything more in-depth would have to be discussed in a more private location and suddenly wished for that; maybe for a while, he would avoid such a situation, however. Despite his desire to know how she had really been over the last few weeks, he selfishly didn’t think he was ready to discuss his own feelings on the matter and wanted, if at all possible, to avoid any scenario in which that could happen.

Of course, once he had begun his sentence, he needed to follow through on it. Starting had been something he both regretted and was grateful for; he regretted it for the fact that he would have to say what he had meant to, but was grateful that he had to do it now, that he had to release what was inside. “I’m sorry…” he said lightly, his downcast eyes moving slowly up to hers. “About the last few weeks,” he finished. “I’ve just… had a lot on my mind, and I wasn’t really around for anyone… For you.”

Now that D’rorah was back, his mind had come back to full capacity and he had come back into his social circle a bit more, he’d begun to accept how much others might have needed him; or rather, just someone. With a slight guilt in his heart for having completely abandoned everyone over the last month or so, he smiled a little sadly at her, unsure as to what to say. All he really could do was wait for her response, anxious as to what it might be and for once not fidgeting with his hands.

[Susan Matthews]

Anticipating the completion of his sentence, Susan was relieved when he at last revealed it. Breathing a sigh of relief, that it was nothing of great problem, she forgave him. “It’s alright,” she said feeling slightly redundant for repeating her previous vague word. She knew a lot had been going through his mind over the past weeks. All the time she was aware of the excessive amount of prying thoughts on his mind.

Now that Dylan had mentioned it, Susan was beginning to feel sorry as well. While Dylan had secluded himself, Susan hadn’t made much of an attempt to approach him. She now held regrets of her own for not trying to help in his time of desperation. “I’m sorry too,” she responded, “for not keeping up with you.” Again, she was reminded of their lapse in communication.

“I’ve got so much to tell you,” Susan smiled, suddenly excited at the thought of sharing her recent experiences with him. Thinking about her production of the flowers, at the time she had been embarrassed and ashamed. Now that it was in the past, she realized exactly what it meant and that it was probably the first step to having control over what little she could do. Feeling happier, Susan offered him a candy from the assortment in her bag.

[Dylan Cooper]

Glad that she accepted his apology without the pretence of him not needing to offer it, and without any further prying into the matter, he smiled lightly and was incredibly glad that he could call her a friend; albeit a very close one. Not expecting any apology in return, he raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened slightly in surprise. He knew that he had not asked for, nor particularly invited company, and he understood why everyone had seemed to avoid him; but he had been slightly put out about a lack of attempts by his closest friends to get into contact with him on a more personal level than that offered in lessons.

He completely understood their avoidance, however, and couldn’t do anything but forgive her as well. “It’s okay,” he said with a corner of his mouth twitching into a small, sad smile. “I guess the past few weeks have been hard for everyone in their own way,” he added, recalling a lot of sad, isolated faces having been present that he might have attempted to do something about had he not been so off colour himself.

Pulled away from those thoughts by her excited voice, his smile returned and he began to wonder what exactly it was she had been up to lately. Accepting an Every Flavour Bean from her bag of goodies and throwing it into his mouth happily, his smile brightened. “So what have you been up to, what’s been happening?” he questioned, his own voice reflecting her excitement as it began to rub off on him. Finishing his queries for the moment, a movement nearby caught his eye and he switched his gaze briefly to the waitress approaching them, placing his drink on the table. “Thanks, do you want anything?” Apparently his questions weren’t over quite yet as he directed another back to his friend.

[Susan Matthews]

Hearing his attitude equal her excitement only further fueled her good mood. Before she could speak, a waitress delivered Dylan’s drink and he had asked if she wanted a drink as well. “Yes, I think I’ll have a butterbeer as well,” she stated cheerfully to both Dylan and the waitress. Distracted only momentarily by the addition of Dylan’s drink to the table, Susan nodded a thanks to the busy waitress and returned her attention to Dylan.

While the waitress bustled off to fill more orders and to meet the needs of the increasing customers, Susan sat back deciding how best to begin her stories. Taking a few flavored beans for herself, she spoke up at last. “So,” she began, “recently I was out by the lake with a friend.” She had thought for how best to describe Bryan, and decided to leave him as a friend. They did begin and end of friendly terms, and she did hope to see him again.

Subconsciously failing to name Bryan in her story, she continued to discreetly relate to that afternoon. The noisiness and the commotion inside of the Three Broomsticks had grown immensely since the both of them had taken their seat. By glances through the window it was evident that the rain in the swelling clouds was due to fall at any moment. Speaking loud enough to be heard, but not overheard, Susan told Dylan of how a row of daffodils had appeared behind her.

When thinking about the discovery of abilities, Susan was reminded of her night with Caitlin in the kitchens. On a more solemn note, she spoke again, “Also, I’ve spoken with Caitlin lately,” she introduced a separate recollection. “Caitlin has been able to mildly manipulate water, although she has no power over it either,” she explained in a bland tone as she was reminded of what news had come with that night. Looking to Dylan she asked suddenly, “Did you know Mallan was dead?”

She wasn’t what sort of response she was expecting. Surely, he knew. What she had meant to ask was, why didn’t you tell me?, but the words remained unspoken at the edge of her thoughts. She left her question to be interpreted as he liked. So involved in her own thoughts, it caught her off guard as the waitress returned with her own drink. “Oh,” Susan said looking at the glass bottle, “Thank you,” she said again to the leaving waitress, putting on a small smile.

[Dylan Cooper]

Bringing the bottle neck to his lips and taking a lasting swig of the drink inside, he felt a strange and yet familiar warmth carry down his throat and into his stomach, spreading throughout his body. Unable to help but smile as he placed the bottle back onto the table top, he watched the waitress leave after taking Susan's order before returning his attention to the Gryffindor.

His eyebrows lifting slightly as she started her next sentence with 'So,' he wondered briefly if anything was wrong. She appeared happy enough though, if not just to see him or to be enjoying a free, albeit miserable, day in Hogsmeade. His mind not lingering on who the friend might be, as he simply assumed it was perhaps someone he didn't know and that was why she hadn't named them, he almost struggled to hear her through the din of the Broomsticks. At times where he required certain things, in this case his hearing, he often found his body failing; certainly, he was constantly having difficulty in hearing her and he began to get slightly aggravated that one of his senses was letting him down so greatly.

Realising that she had mentioned something about daffodils suddenly appearing, he smiled, glad that he'd heard her. He wondered briefly if her words had any point to them, or were rather the casual talk of friends like he was used to when he spoke to the fellow fifth year. As she continued, and her tone became more dignified and serious, he realised that she had been leading up to whatever she wished to really discuss and attempted to mentally prepare himself for what was to come.

Quite honestly surprised that Caitlin was talking to anyone lately, his eyebrows arched in true surprise as she stated that the Shadow Warrior of Water had begun to manipulate her element. He was both impressed and incredibly pleased that Cait was progressing so well with her powers, and the surprise came only from the fact that he had not been expecting Susan to continue onto that line of conversation at all. What he had been expecting, well... that came next.

His eyes growing darker as she asked about the previous Master of Wind, he flicked them down to the table and consciously clenched his jaw. "Yeah," he said in a quiet tone, not sure if she would hear him over the background noise but knowing that she would at least realise his response from his actions. He had known that Mallan had died; killed himself, rather. He had hated the Gryffindor for it, and still did. He had abandoned a Shadow Warrior that had needed him, and in doing so nearly given her a fate worse than death, all for reasons so inexplicably selfish that just made him angrier.

The slight distraction of the return of the waitress wasn't really absorbed by Dylan, and he proceeded on as if she had never even returned. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Sus," he added meaningfully. She had been on his thoughts after he had left the Room of Requirement that day, but he had known that when the time came, it would need to be Caitlin who informed everyone. "I was there when she got the letter; everything was just so messed up, and for her own sake she needed to tell everybody herself, to say it and admit that it happened." His memories were recalled from that disastrous day, when he had attempted to comfort her in the ever-changing room and she had unknowingly transferred them into his room of torture from so many months ago.

[Susan Matthews]

As the drink was placed before her, a small layer of condensation had formed quickly around the cool glass surface. Bringing the bottle to her on the table, she did not drink yet, but drew little flowers in the water droplets above the label. Drawing one dissimilar to the others, Susan frustratingly erased them all with a swipe of her hand. She watched the uniform beads of condensation drip to meet the table, before looking up in time to see Dylan mouth the word ‘yeah’. Or maybe he’d actually said it, but from the loud din of the other conversations in the small area, made it impossible for her to tell.

“No, I get it,” Susan replied somewhat selfishly as Dylan apologized for not telling her of Mallan’s death. The resentment was still evident in her voice and she hated herself for it. When he further explained, his reasons for not sharing the news, Susan couldn’t help but understand. She nodded silently, accepting his reasons for letting Caitlin be the one to tell her. “I just can’t believe I was the last to know,” she said to herself as well as Dylan.

Caitlin had even been surprised that no one had informed her of Mallan’s death. When they had met up in the kitchens, Caitlin hadn’t told her how long ago the incident was. Susan wasn’t aware of how much time had lapsed between Caitlin’s notification and their night in the kitchens. She furrowed her brows lightly as she thought, trying to come up with her own explanation as to why she’d been left in the dark. As she thought of nothing, at last to took a sip of her butterbeer. The liquid, warmed her inside, leaving her feeling a little better than before.

[Dylan Cooper]

At her reply, at the tone within it, he lowered his head as feelings of guilt swam over him. Whatever excuses he offered, no matter that he didn’t believe in excuses truly excusing actions, he truly hadn’t meant to keep her in the dark; to keep anyone in the dark. He had learned of Mallan second of all the lightfighters, true, but he had not felt it to be his place to divulge the Gryffindor’s suicide to anyone else in the student body. The immediate person to whom he would have gone had indeed been gone herself at the time – his girlfriend, his confidante, and the unspoken leader of their little group; D’rorah Philosophy. Susan, while a very close and good friend, was not someone to who he would go in order to give information, but rather someone he would go to if he wanted to talk, to vent. At the time, he hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone but the one person he could not, for D’rorah herself had been the topic of sadness – or rather, her absence.

Her words had largely divided him; he was ashamed at his lack of discussion, or rather his lack of desire for it, and yet he was angry at her for making him feel this way. He couldn’t help that he had sought solitude, and in doing so inadvertently left her out of the loop – he was not responsible for her ego, no matter how infrequently it arose. If the problem was simply that she was the last to know, rather than that a man had killed himself, perhaps Dylan didn’t need to care about her emotions or complaints anyway. And yet here he was, his temper controlled and such thoughts denied access to his conscious mind.

The predominant Dylan held empathy for her situation, however, and he extended one hand over to her, meaning to take her hand in his. “I’m sorry,” he said earnestly, wishing for all the world that the aftermath had turned out differently; that perhaps someone might have thought, upon learning about Mallan, to call a meeting of the lightfighters, or, dare he even think it, that the last Elemental Master of Wind had not committed suicide to begin with. The act of pure selfishness still made him angrier than almost anything else; abandoning his Shadow Warrior and all of the other lightfighters, leaving Caitlin to whom he had been growing so close. But now was not the time for this, not when he finally had D’rorah back, when he was finally gaining some happiness in his life again.

Pecking at a few Every Flavour Beans, he briefly craved a quieter location, where just the two of them could be alone and talk freely – but the desire was quickly overtaken by the newfound habit of keeping everything inside, of avoiding such intimate encounters so that such conversations never truly have the chance to rise. A small twinge of guilt rising in him again at his desire to remain shut off from her, he found himself unable to meet her eyes and instead allowed the pepper flavoured bean within his mouth to linger, distracting him, delaying him from that awful moment when he might have to face her eyes.

[Susan Matthews]

She glanced out the window, suddenly aware of the rough rain, drenching the entire outdoors. The thick clouds had at last released their fury upon the small town of Hogsmeade. Her eyes were drawn this way and that as the scattering people still raced between the various stores along the facing street, claiming her attention. With a look down, it was obvious that the downpour had begun earlier and neither had noticed. With the increase in the bad weather, the increase in the number of people inside the Three Broomsticks wasn’t hard to notice. Susan was slightly annoyed with the crowdedness of the small area, but showed nothing outwardly.

Seeing his hand reach toward hers, she allowed his hand to envelope hers momentarily as he spoke. Hearing his sorry, Susan felt no release by it. She looked at their hands together feeling the warmth from his, a strange contrast from that of the cool air. Knowing somewhere inside of her that it truly wasn’t Dylan’s fault; Susan began to chew on her lip slightly. It hurt her mind to think of how many lightfighters were lost to this war as of yet and couldn’t help but pity the next fellow to step into the ring in Mallan’s place. Muddled by the confusing thoughts surrounding the suicide, Susan at last realized something. Carefully slipping her hand back for herself, she said formally, “Don’t be sorry.” She paused before continuing, still oddly stiff, “It’s not your fault.”

It wasn’t Dylan’s fault, Susan affirmed herself. Though she hated it, she couldn’t help but feel resentment toward the situation in general that had placed itself on their shoulders. She had thought before on what might have fueled Mallan to commit his act and could think only of items related to the war they all found themselves wedged into. Sadly depressed at the whole situation, it was strange to think only a few short phrases ago she had been happy, excited even. Susan struggled to remember what she had been thinking of, or what they had been speaking of.

It came to her suddenly as Dylan chose another Every Flavor Bean and she couldn’t help but smile slightly as Bryan came to her mind, despite the gravity of their previous subject. Susan’s breath caught and she found the corners of her mouth rising slightly as she remembered the encounter between them, although awkward, it had certainly been pleasant. Her hands to herself again, she was able to allow herself another swig of her butterbeer before attempting to remove the misplaced smile on her face.

[Dylan Cooper]

His eyes following hers out the window, he noted the suddenly torrential downpour outside and was exceptionally glad, despite his love of rain, to be nice and cozy within the Three Broomsticks. They were relatively close to the fire, too, which was always a nice help. Never really being a massive fan of heat, however, he took a swig of Butterbeer to even himself out slightly, the brilliantly cold liquid running down his throat even as it warmed him inside. Quite a weird drink, when you thought about it.

As the weather deteriorated, the Broomsticks became louder and more crowded; not really an ideal situation, given how packed it had already been. His eyes roaming back to study her features, he saw that she had begun to nibble on her lower lip at some point and wondered why – their topic of discussion couldn’t have been far off, though. He was enjoying having his hand in hers, but found the situation changed as she pulled her own hand back, securing it beside herself. Casting his eyes down to the table and clenching his jaw at the small rejection, the matter wasn’t helped at all by her tone of voice, despite what she said.

He knew this had to be hard for her; he wouldn’t like feeling that he was the last to know everything, either – but that didn’t give her the right to make him feel this guilty about it. He had strictly told himself that he would let Caitlin divulge the information, and he didn’t regret that decision in the slightest, no matter how Susan was reacting. It wasn’t his fault she was the last to know, nor was it some conspiracy by all of the other Lightfighters to exclude her in any way – excluding the possibility of a meeting in which all of them were present, someone would have been the last to know. He had apologised not for it being his fault, but because he sympathised with her feelings, and being raised primarily in the care of a woman had given him access to emotions he probably wouldn’t have felt otherwise; the fact that she simply assumed he was apologising because he should feel some guilt offended him, though he knew that he wouldn’t have even thought about it had she reacted to this situation in a more positive light.

Sighing, sick of all the drama, he failed to meet her eyes again. Choosing a small burn mark on the tabletop to vaguely focus on, he didn’t see the small smile newly risen onto her features, and instead took another drink out of the bottle within his hands. Finding it, as usual, easier to walk away from an uncomfortable or negative situation, he stood from the table. “I’ll see you later,” he said quietly, leaving a half-empty bottle standing on his side of the table. Turning and slowly weaving his way through the masses, he had forgotten about the rainstorm until reaching the door and, much to the displeasure of several people nearby, opened it; seeing the abysmal conditions, he nevertheless pulled his hood up and stepped out onto the muddy street, headed slowly back up to the castle, his thoughts as miserable as the weather itself.

[Susan Matthews]

The tension between the two of them was evident, and neither Dylan nor Susan seemed to be on the same page although they were both riding on a shared current. Susan’s attention was honed at the abrupt sight of Dylan standing at once. She watched helplessly as without explanation, Dylan left his half empty Butterbeer behind on the table. Gathering his things, Susan heard him say that he would see her later and she didn’t doubt it. Of course they would see each other again, but later was a vague expanse of time. Their disconnection made it impossible for her to tell if later meant dinner tonight or in class next week.

With nothing better to say, Susan answered with a quiet, “alright.” As quiet as she said it though and given the increase in the din around them, she wasn’t sure if Dylan had even heard it. She watched with silence as Dylan left his place by the window to make for the door and the rain beyond it. Alone at their table, Susan returned her eyes to the two Butterbeers before her, no longer craving the bittersweet feeling rendered from the beverage. She glanced out rain-splattered window in time to catch Dylan’s hooded figure headed in the direction of the castle.

Susan sadly returned her attention to the empty table before her, empty save for her own things. Sitting alone, Susan was unable to stop a very large and hairy man from rudely dragging Dylan’s chair to his table where one was lacked. The waitress from before swept by in a whirlwind, whisking away Dylan’s unfinished drink, and completely ignoring Susan. Utterly depressed, Susan pulled a few coins from her purse and placed them on the table in the form of a tip before rising from her own chair to head in the direction of Honeydukes, where her shift awaited.