Hello again! Ninth chapter and I, myself, can't believe that we did already reach the 50k mark. That's crazy!

Aly Black-Starr: Thank you for your kind review! What I tried to do is create a relatable character which isn't just clumsy and shy... or plain awkward. I wanted to make her as "realistic" as possible, having flaws and perks and preferences just as every real person does. And I'm really happy that I somewhat realised this idea. By now we reached the point where the two will slowly get to know each other and soon enough there will be some rather funny family meetings. So stay tuned :)

Vvls: As always, thank you very much for your nice review! It's also very enjoyable to write about her confused reactions and muddled thoughts. She's quiete adorable, isn't she? To me, it's very important to build up the world and the side characters as well. That's why we will meet the parents in the next chapter. So stay tuned! I always love your reviews and I'm very glad for your kind words. You have no idea how motivating they are :)

lotttieifif: Also to you... a big thank you! I enjoy reading your reviews and I'm happy to tell you that the next chapters will contain lots of encounters between Lou and James ;)

brooklyn: I try to update every second week (saturdays) and I usually stick to that :) To answer your question: Lou got a book, a pair of shoes and three packages of her grandma filled with her favorite holiday biscuits. I'm very glad that you like the story so much! Thanks to you!

With no further ado - Chapter 9:

The air was fresh and cool. I had forgotten my gloves and so I hid my hands in my cloak to protect them from the cold. Yes, it had become cold. Overnight the temperature must have dropped quite a bit, I was sure of it. It hadn't been more than ten minutes and my fingers were already freezing. The short trip to the Owlery – I had to send a letter for my parents - turned out to be quite an ordeal. It wasn't the weather's fault, of course - it was me who was so forgetful. So that was on my head.

I walked along the meadow, where several blankets were spread out, on which numerous groups of friends had settled down. One group of friends immediately caught my eye. Among them were James Sirius Potter, Reuben Davies, Aadhya Brown and Fred Weasley. They were sitting around several glasses in which small fires were blazing, obviously conjured for the purpose of warming their hands. The light from the fires created an almost cosy atmosphere, despite the snow and icy wind. I wanted to hurry past them and so I lowered my gaze to the toes of my boots, which were splattered with slushy snow. I'd have to polish them tonight, otherwise the leather would be ruined.

I had almost passed by when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the figures get up and walk in my direction. I immediately realised who had stood up, but that didn't mean he was actually coming my way. Maybe he just had to go in the same direction as me. That sounded plausible-

"Lupe!"

Well, so much for that. I guess he was coming my way after all.

"James" I turned to him and waved, tentatively. "What's up?"

A half grin parted his lips and he pointed towards his friends in a gallant gesture. Not all of them were eyeing us, but some of them were. I felt their stares, though I wasn't looking.

"Do you want to sit with us?" he asked, running his hand through his black, tousled and pretty hair.

It took me a while to internalise his words. But even then, it didn't clear up any confusion. "Why do you ask that?"

James looked amused. "What do you think? I'd like you to be there."

"But why?", I repeated, tilting my head.

"It was just an offer. I thought we could get to know each other a little better," he explained calmly, shrugging his left shoulder barely noticeably.

"A month ago you didn't even know I existed, James. Let alone what my name was," I said softly.

It wasn't an accusation, just a statement of fact and he seemed to understand because he smiled again, even if he looked at me like I was slow on the uptake. Well, often enough this was true.

"I know. That's why I want to get to know you better. If I knew you already, I wouldn't have to ask. After all, you haven't wanted to tell me very much about yourself so far."

I kept silent. What else could I do? To contradict him would have been a lie, but I didn't want to agree with him either

"I know you quiete like to hide in the crowd, but I can't miss you recently. You stand out too much to me." He said this with such a knowing tone that it made me feel quite uncomfortable. I was never actually spotted in the crowd of students (with the exception of my friends who were very much able to do so). It was my very own quirky talent that I just didn't stick in the memories of my classmates. It was similar to whenever I tried to study; the knowledge always slipped through my fingers. And it was no different with my peers when they tried to remember who I was - I forgot our subject matter and they forgot me.

"You look rather shocked. A galleon for what's going through your head right now." He leaned down to me and I could see into his brown eyes, which had an interesting, almost green tinge from up close. He smiled conspiratorially and I took a tiny step back. Not because I was uncomfortable with his proximity, because in fact I wasn't, but because I couldn't think properly when people looked at me so intently. James might be an exception in many ways, but not with this.

"Thanks, but I don't need a galleon." My parents had always been very generous as far as pocket money was concerned.

"Then tell me anyway," he suggested.

"No.", I decided. "Nothing important is on my mind, really."

"Why don't I believe you?"

My nose wrinkled. Surely he wouldn't care what muddled thoughts I had. And even if he did, strictly speaking, it was none of his business. I didn't like people sticking their noses into my business...

"Why do you keep claiming that I am a liar?", I demanded. It was a valid question. Did he really think I was constantly lying or at least hiding things? I was an honest person and I tried my best to be so. He almost hurt my pride with his statement.

"What?" he asked, stiff and confused, as if my words had been unthinkably absurd. To me, however, they had made great sense. I guess now James knew how I felt about him addressing me, of all people, out of the blue: confused. "That's not what I'm saying at all."

I nodded. "That's fine then. Because I'm not a liar."

"Good, then I can expect an honest answer from you, can't I?" James, I just realised, could be very persistent. He wasn't pushy - or not very much, anyway - but he never seemed to forget when someone 'owed' him an answer. "Why won't you sit with us? We've even got some sweets from Honeydukes here if you're hungry. And we're all nice and open minded people, I promise."

I took my time thinking it over, even though my decision really had been made before he had even asked. Then I looked up at the castle and asked:

"What time is it?"

James pushed up his sleeve and looked down at his wristwatch. "Quarter past four, but I'm not falling for that again. So don't change the subject," he then replied dryly.

"I'm not doing that at all." I smiled apologetically. "I have a study date with a friend in fifteen minutes. We're going to the library together to work on our essays."

He examined me with his pinning gaze but didn't contradict me. Apparently, he didn't believe that everything I said was made-up humbug after all.

"That's a pity. Maybe some other time?"

The serenity in his voice and the welcoming smile on his lips finally made me reply with, "Maybe."

And satisfied with that answer, James turned his back on me and sauntered back to his friends and their glasses filled with fires.

"See you around, Lupe Rashid." He had said his goodbye before I continued my walk to the castle where I had arranged to meet Krista this morning. It was the first time I had been punctual in a long period of time actually, and I didn't doubt for a second that I would have wandered the corridors for a while longer and thus been late had James not just reminded me of what time it was.

"So, you said you found your inspiration?", Krista broke the silence. She looked up from her parchment scroll and eyed me critically.

"Exactly."

I nodded more or less absent-mindedly and returned to my racing thoughts. I did want to concentrate - at least I tried, of course I didn't feel like it - but I just couldn't manage to stay focused. I tapped the pen on the table in a steady rhythm. Unfortunately, the quiet sounds didn't stimulate my concentration either.

"Then why, Lou dear, are you just staring into space and completely zoned out instead of working on your essay?" she asked sharply, putting down her pen to give me her full attention.

I hadn't really been listening to her and just blinked in perplexity as she snapped her fingers in front of my face.

"Excuse me?", I whispered.

Krista snorted, shaking her head. "What's going through that little mind of yours?"

"A lot of people want to know that from me today," I said.

She raised her eyebrows. "Huh, I don't understand you."

"Neither do I sometimes," I said encouragingly, placing my hand briefly on hers in a compassionate gesture.

Krista simply decided to ignore my hand and reached for my notes and the book I had actually wanted – but not managed - to read. She skimmed the open pages before comparing what she had read with my poorly conceived notes.

"Your subject is" She tapped the underlined heading on my parchment scroll with her finger and made a sound of approval. "The healing powers of the Nile. Hmm, interesting. How did you come up with that?"

My expression brightened. It was a nice story to tell: "I was sitting on the lakeshore. And then the sun was shining in my face and I was thinking about the beach and summer. And then I thought of our holiday this summer in Luxor. And poof: there I had my inspiration."

Krista was completely in her element. It wasn't that she loved studying, but she certainly loved talking about studying. "So what exactly are you going to address in your essay? How the ancient Egyptian wizards used the healing water of the Nile in their potions?"

"Among other things, yes. I would also answer the question of how strong the healing powers actually are. My mother always claims that the water is quite unhygienic and dirty and that she would rather not use it in her healing potions, despite its actual healing powers."

"All right. I have to admit, you picked a good topic to work on." She looked almost relieved. I decided not to hold it against her that she didn't seem to quite trust me to find a good topic on my own. "But that doesn't mean you can sit back and relax now! This essay isn't going to write itself."

She pushed the book and my parchment scrolls towards me and began to get back to her own work. Her quill flew across the paper as she did so. Her thoughts came faster than she could write them down - her hand could hardly keep up. With me, however, it was rather the other way round.

"Too good to be true," I muttered and began to leaf through the book, looking for useful information. But every word I read went in one ear and out the other. Almost as if my mind was a stupid sieve that you tried to fill with water. The harder you tried, the more water you lost.

I realised quite quickly that it couldn't go on like this. There was something on my mind and I had never been one to feel good about locking up my feelings.

"I have a question."

Krista looked like she had expected nothing less. She pulled the book towards her, seemingly wanting to be able to give me a good answer. But the answers I was looking for were not in any textbook... at least I thought it unlikely. In any case, there was nothing in this book that could help me.

"I'm listening."

"It has nothing to do with potions."

Krista was surprised, I could tell, but she nodded slowly, looking increasingly curious. "Okay."

"If someone asks you to do something with his friends and him, and you cancel, and he says that 'maybe some other time' you could do something together, and you answer him with 'maybe'...would it be very rude to cancel the next time he asks - if he asks - as well? Or am I now even obligated not to cancel on him because I have unconsciously promised to join his friends and him sometime sooner or later?"

While I voiced my concerns, Krista remained silent. She had been listening to me intently and when I finished and directed my questioning gaze at her, she cleared her throat.

"I... I'm not sure what to say to that."

I smiled. "Good, then I'm not the only one."

Krista took her time. She took me seriously instead of sneering at me. That was why I had gone to her with this. I could rely on her giving me her honest and most evelheaded opinion.

"So, you should know that you're not obligated to do anything at all, even if you promised him to meet up with his friends and him or whatever. But you didn't even promise him anything. 'Maybe' is not a promise. So you can cancel him if you really want to," she finally answered me.

Immediately, I felt relieved. I didn't know how I would ultimately react when - or rather if - James actually asked me again, but it was good to know that I had a choice and hadn't made a promise. Promises always had to be kept and I wasn't sure it would have been easy for me to keep that very promise. I held no grudge against James or his friends, maybe I even liked him, James, quite a bit, but there was also no doubt in my mind that I didn't fit into his group of friends.

"Who is this someone who asked you to meet up with him?" asked Krista indignantly.

"He didn't really ask me to meet up with him. That would be a bit of a leap," I explained, waving it off.

Krista looked at me uncomprehendingly, so I started to explain again, "He just asked me if I wanted to sit with him and his friends. At Black Lake. If I wanted to join the round, you see. It was more of a friendly offer, which I didn't necessarily want to accept."

"Well...I'm no expert and I certainly don't want to say anything wrong - you might want to ask Millie instead. She's dated a lot... But it sounds a bit to me as if" Krista looked like she could hardly believe her words herself. " as if this someone likes you. Maybe he fancies you."

She sounded incredulous, but I couldn't blame her. The boys at Hogwarts - or outside of Hogwarts, there was no difference - didn't really show any romantic interest in me. They were more into Krista because she was very smart and articulate. Or Elain, because she was so even-tempered and kind. Or Millie, because she was always full of life. Of course, if people didn't know me - and most people didn't know me or even who I was - then they couldn't fancy me. That wasn't a bad thing, inmy opinion. I was quite romantic and was sure that at some point I would meet someone I would love and who would love me. It wouldn't happen today or tomorrow, but eventually. And even if it didn't, there was so much love in my life nowadays; my parents, my family and my friends meant everything to me.

And yet, the thought of James Potter fancying me was too absurd and funny. For one thing, he didn't know me either. For another, I wasn't his type. Elain had often commented, even complained, about James' type; tall and beautiful, quick-witted and sarcastic girls with a healthy dose of self-confidence. I didn't fit in there and that was fine. I liked myself just the way I was.

"You're funny." I giggled behind my hand. "He doesn't like me. It's James Potter."

"Oh." Krista looked apprehensive. She didn't like being wrong. And I could see it in her face; she certainly didn't want me to get the wrong idea because of her. However, she didn't have to worry about that. "He has a date with a Ravenclaw from his year tonight. I heard it from Elain. She's devastated," she opened hesitantly.

I smiled in agreement. "See? James is just trying to be polite. Maybe he can't bear the thought of having given an innocent girl such a fright. After all, he can't know that I'm pretty jumpy as it is."

Krista nodded thoughtfully, but ultimately came to the conclusion that I must be right. "Yeah, maybe."

It was almost eerily quiet in the castle, especially for a cold winter morning. The Quidditch game was about to start and all the students and teachers had swarmed out to secure good seats. I, on the other hand, was starting to have to hurry up quite a bit if I didn't want to be late. Aggie would be very angry with me if I missed even a single second of her game. My presence was important to her and therefore it was important to me. I didn't really place much value on punctuality. Schedules and strict times were abhorrent to me. I had no idea how late It was, because I never carried a watch around, but the empty hallways were proof enough that I had to hurry.

I hurried down the stairs to the entrance hall. I was starting to feel short of breath. Yet I had only covered the distance from the common room to the entrance hall, which was less than five minutes.

I shouldn't have let my roommates leave without me, but I had felt so comfortable - curled up in my magical thermal blanket, with Ragnar on my lap - that I had wanted to stay in the room at least a few minutes longer. And then I had forgotten the time. It happened to me quiete often, all the time even - I should have seen it coming. But Ragnar had been so sweet. He had attracted all my attention and captivated me completely. He was just a stuffed dragon, not even mine. Still, I had already taken a shine to him and Krista said I could look after him until just before Christmas, until Daisy's birthday. I knew, of course, that a stuffed dragon didn't need any care and Krista knew it just as well, but she had wanted to bring joy to me. She knew how quickly I grew fond of any kind of creature, and she wanted to give me a little time with Ragnar until she finally sent him off to her sister by owl.

When petted, Ragnar came to life. He started to make noises and to fidget and if he got angry because you didn't pet him enough, he wouldn't breathe fire but he would blow out a red sort of smoke that smelled like pine cones - he was adorable!

When I had finally managed to tear myself away from the little dragon, the common room had been already so empty that I feared the worst. However, a glance out of the window in the corridor on the first floor had told me that a few students had not yet arrived at the stands and were only on their way to the pitch. That had reassured me a little, at least.

Once in the entrance hall, I quickly closed my cloak and adjusted my green scarf. Then I put on my new gloves, which had arrived yesterday morning. They were made of brown and soft leather, the way I liked gloves best. And they smelled of roses, because I didn't like the smell of leather very much and my mother just knew me well.

I had just arrived at the big gate when I heard footsteps and then a voice - that was by now quite familiar - sounded from behind me:

"Are those the Slytherin colours?"

I turned around, finding James Potter before me. He was holding a flag with 'Hufflepuff' written on it and he had painted his face with black and yellow bars running parallel across his right cheek.

At the words, I glanced down at myself. I was wearing one of Aggie's Slytherin scarves and I had put a barrette (in the shape of a silver snake that made impatient hissing noises every now and then) in my hair.

Well, what could I say to that? I decided to leave it at a nod.

"But you're in Hufflepuff, Lupe." The surprise in his voice was hard to miss as he took a closer look at me, a thoughtful expression on his face. He was regarding me as if I were a very strange jigsaw puzzle - and he was missing half the pieces of the puzzle.

I never knew exactly how to react when someone stated the obvious. Surely no one expected me to contradict him. How could I? Yes, I was in Hufflepuff and I was actually aware of that.

"Yes, I am, James."

"And then you cheer for the opposing team?"

James walked past me and opened the gate for me with a little bow and a grin on his lips. He held it open for me and smiling gratefully, I stepped out into the freezing cold of the winter morning.

"Aggie's on the Quidditch team, as I'm sure you know. It's an important game for her. I have to support her. Besides, Quidditch isn't particularly important to me-"

James, who had been walking beside me, stopped suddenly, holding his aching heart. "That, that's a hard blow. How can you not love Quidditch?"

"I just mean- I support Hufflepuff as much as I can. I like Callister Dunaway and his team. They're all really lovely, ambitious and despite their love for the game, not as...well, obsessed with winning as the Gryffindors and Slytherins are. Most of the time I support Hufflepuff or at least stay neutral. Today, Aggie needs my support."

"That's very noble of you. Very Gryffindor."

And then, he smiled. Not the smirk that radiated purest smugness, but his friendly, candid and vivid smile. The smile I liked. Very much so, in fact, because it was charming and inviting but not intrusive, cheerful but not boisterous, enthusiastic but not fanatical or overwrought, warm and lively but not too eccentric that it scared me away. It was the perfect smile. Not the contrived perfect, but the pretty perfect... unsurpassable in an imperfect and personal way.

I averted my eyes and surveyed the bare trees and white sky.

"You're cheering for the Hufflepuffs, I see."

I didn't look at him, but he did look at me. I could feel his eyes on me, and when he spoke, I thought I could also hear him smile:

"Like you said; Dunaway is a nice bloke. I like Dunaway and his team too. They are good losers when playing Gryffindor, yes, but they are even better winners. Better than the Slytherins are, probably better than us Gryffindors too. They don't usually brag."

I was a little surprised at his words. And not because they confused me, but because I could only agree with them. While a sore loser could ruin a game by being moody or just generally making everyone miserable; a poor winner could equally dampen the event by putting people down or by making everyone else feel worthless or stupid.

People's reaction when they win or lose spoke volumes more about their character than a score ever could.

That said; I had never seen the Gryffindors as poor winners. In fact, I had never seen a Gryffindor bragging or making fun of the losers after their wins. Everyone at Hogwarts took Quidditch very seriously. Sportsmanship was important.

Hufflepuffs were extremely modest, I suppose that was true - Millie being perhaps a small exception - but Gryffindors were also very forgiving when it came to the feelings of their peers, most of the time anyway. However, I didn't have many friends in Gryffindor. None, actually, one of my closer acquaintances being James himself, although we didn't even really know each other. So my sources might not be the best, but as always, I trusted my gut.

"I never heard you brag."

James chuckled. "I brag a lot, love, it's in us Gryffindors' blood. You just never paid me a lot of attention. But we're very proud."

I didn't know what, but something about his words rattled me. So I took a deep breath to get my thoughts in order and asked, "Who you reckon will win, regardless of who you're cheering for? As a real player, I'm sure you know more about that than I do."

James was the star keeper of the Gryffindors and, since this year, also captain of his team. He had not exactly hidden his passion for the sport earlier either. His amber eyes suddenly sparkled thoughtfully, reminding me of chocolate and retriever dogs, in a manner quiete confounding. He was pondering, seemed to be really weighing up how today's game would turn out.

"Both teams are bloody good. Both captains have chosen strong players and from what I've heard they've trained hard and prepared well. But I would actually put my money on Hufflepuff."

I looked at him, puzzled. "Really, Hufflepuff hasn't won the Quidditch Cup in years. We're always in second place."

And we were not unhappy with that. Holding second place for years was an achievement. And I knew that Callister Dunaway celebrated every win, no matter how small. That was just how we Hufflepuffs were. We did our best and took pride in our successes. Of course our house wished for the cup, especially after so many years of letting it slip through our fingers, but second place was always better than third and sometimes you had to enjoy the little things. The team had always earned their second places. So they would now defend the title and hopefully win it again this year. And if James was right, it might even be enough for the cup. The team deserved it, everyone would agree.

"I like betting on the underdog. They can only surprise you." he opened meaningfully, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

"I think Slytherin has a good chance of winning. Theodora was very strict with them. They've been practicing almost every day," I posited.

James looked as if a new idea had entered his mind, the best of ideas, but I knew better. He may no longer be a fourth grader who devised and executed the craziest pranks with his best friends on a daily basis, but it had, after all, been his very friends and him who had thrown magical fireworks at my head, albeit unintentionally.

To shorten up; I had a bad feeling.

"So my money's on Hufflepuff and your money's on Slytherin," he finally said, giving me a wide smirk. "How about a little bet?"

"A bet?" I blinked a few times. "What do you want to bet?"

"If Hufflepuff wins, then you have to tell where you always hang out at night."

My brows furrowed. "And if Slytherin wins?"

"Well, that's your bet then. What would you want me to do?"

I gave myself a little time to think. Was there even anything I wanted? Something James could help me with. Something thst was worth making a bet with him...? And then it hit me. Something I really wanted. Something that was worth taking the risk of James finding out about my friendship with Mrs Norris. I was no secret agent after all.

I nodded slowly. "You have to get Aadhya to stop calling me Helga. Helga doesn't sound very pretty, I think. And you, you can't call me Lupe anymore. I am not used to being called Lupe."

"But the name suits you so well."

I shook my head decisively. "That would be my bet."

Quicker than expected, he relented. "All right. Is the bet on?"

He faced me and held out his hand. He winked at me while grinning contentedly.

"Yes" I tentatively took his hand. His hand was soft and warm. When our fingers touched, I expected a strong, firm handshake, but he held my hand very gently in his. Our hands fitted into each other like two cogs, and that made me falter for a brief second. Then I released my hand from his feather-light grip. "The bet is on," I added hesitantly.

We approached the pitch. I didn't hear any cheering or rumbling, so the game couldn't have started yet. That was good.

I wondered how the game would really turn out. I had bet on Slytherin, so of course I hoped-.

I had bet on Slytherin. I had bet against Hufflepuff, against my own house. Oh dear... It was one thing to root for Aggie and her team. It was one thing to wear their colours. It was quite another thing to bet against my house and hope for their defeat, looking for my own advantage, or to enrich myself at the expense of others, on their failures. And that was what it was, wasn't it? Was it not betrayal?

James' voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "What's wrong?" he asked, sounding rather concerned.

"I feel bad. I bet against my own house. Isn't that betrayal?" I lowered my eyes to my polished boot tips and sighed silently. My thoughts threatened to stray again, when I heard a soft laugh beside me.

How he did it, I didn't know, but James sounded amused and serious at the same time as he spoke, "You're too cute. No, it isn't. Don't worry about it, Lupe." I shot him a sideways glance, distracted by my guilty conscience. James shrugged innocently. "What? I have to take my chance while I can, don't I?"

The stands rose in front of us and there was no miss hearing the excited hollers and shouts of all of Hogwarts. James and I stopped. I would only have to climb one more flight of stairs and I would be in the stands, where the Hufflepuffs usually congregated. There were no set places or seats, but because house rivalry was always comparatively high at games, the houses preferred to keep to themselves.

He gestured with a nod of his head to the right, where his friends were sure to be among the Gryffindor crowd.

"Well then, I've got to go this way. See you around, Lupe."

Before I knew it, it had slipped out, "See you around, James."

I hope you enjoyed this chapter which is a bit shorter than the last ones...

As always, I'd love some feedback and comments. Your kind reviwes are very motivating, that much is clear. So if you have some tips or just some feedback for me, I would really appreciate it. ;-)

In the next chapter, the quidditch game will take place. James and Lou will also meet and talk about their bet. The winner will be very happy XD. Any guess who will win the game? Hufflepuff or Slytherin?

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