Disclaimer: All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

Sorry for the short (and late) chapter, but with a new semester to look forward to, I've been swamped. Hopefully this will help me get back in the groove of things, though.

Thanks for all the new favorites/follows (I can't believe we're almost at 100 after only 3 chapters!), and thank you to those who reviewed!

Chapter Four

Dirty Little Secret

Each day was more bizarre than the last.

As the weeks wore on and October 15th approached, I found myself drowning in James Potter.

After so many years of obsessively hounding Lily Evans, I should've known that subtlety was not his strong suit. But it seemed that every time I turned around, James was there: holding doors for me, walking me to class, offering to carry my books (which I always refused, as I was more than capable of doing it myself, thank you very much). I was beginning to wonder if he'd somehow put a Tracking Spell on me without my knowledge. I meant it when I said he was always there.

Leigh and Renee were baffled. They waited a week after James and his friends began sitting with us at meals in the Great Hall to corner me, and they did not hold back.

As we'd been leaving for breakfast one morning, I'd opened the door to our dormitory only for Renee to press her hand against it and slam it shut again, the wood trembling in its frame.

"Not so fast," she'd said. Her green eyes scanned me from head to toe, her lips pursed. "We're not going anywhere until you tell us what, exactly, is up with you and Potter."

"Yeah," Leigh chimed in, crossing her arms. "What gives? You two are practically attached at the hip now!"

I'd feigned innocence. "What do you mean? We've always been mates. It's not abnormal for us to hang out."

Renee rolled her eyes. "Either you're incredibly thick, or something's up between you two." She narrowed her gaze, keeping her palm flat against the door. "Are you shagging him?"

I didn't have to fake my disgust at that question. "Godric, no. I'd rather let Pervy Herbie from Ravenclaw give me a disease than let James in my pants." I pondered for a moment. "All right, maybe I wouldn't, but you get what I mean."

"But he's been spending loads of time with you lately," Leigh said.

"Because that's what friends do," I retorted. "I spend loads of time with you two already."

"It's different," she insisted. "Potter doesn't even look at Evans anymore! D'you know how strange that is? The whole school's been talking about it."

I'd looked between Renee's skeptical gaze and Leigh's suspicious one before sighing. I hated to lie to them, but I'd already determined that the less people who knew, the less likely this whole fake-dating thing would blow up in my face.

"James and I are just friends," I'd said firmly. I'd then carefully arranged my features into something more wistful. "I mean, if he did ask me out, I guess I wouldn't be totally opposed…"

Leigh squeaked. "You fancy him!"

I'd shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. We'll see."

Leigh had seemed utterly entranced at the prospect, but Renee had still looked dubious. I had to throw her off the scent, then.

"And what about you and High Lord Black?" I'd asked her, propping my shoulder against the door and smirking at her. "Still trying to see other people?"

Her face had tightened. "Yes."

"And how's that working out for you?"

She'd finally removed her hand from the door and opened it. "Walk before I shove you down the stairs."

"So sensitive. Should I ask Black to put you in a better mood? ACK!"

And the conversation was over after Renee had, indeed, shoved me down the girls' staircase. That had been two weeks ago, and the girls hadn't brought it up since.

It was now the first week of October, which meant that there was only one more week before James "officially" asked me out. He'd upped the ante so much in the meantime that it was becoming a struggle to simply smile at him without wanting to wallop him across the face, especially since he now used our Quidditch time as an excuse to "flirt" endlessly with me.

Our first Quidditch practice of October fell on the 8th—exactly one week before the fated day. James seemed to know this, as well, for he winked at me when we all lined up on the field, facing him for that day's pep talk and what plays we'd be working on during the practice.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have some exciting news to share with you before we kick off tonight's practice," he said. He puffed out his chest importantly, his hands on his hips.

"What's the news?" Sirius Black said. "You're finally admitting to wearing girls' underwear?"

The rest of the team snickered. Even I cracked a smile at the sheer look of offense on James's face.

"Congratulations, Pads, for earning yourself one-hundred push-ups while the rest of us are flying," James said. He grinned when his best mate swore and flipped him off. He turned back to the rest of us, the evening sun glinting off the goggles he wore in lieu of his glasses. They rested on his forehead, just under his hairline, jutting the messy black strands vertically and giving him the appearance of wearing an absurd crown. He caught my gaze and winked again. I rolled my eyes. "Now. I received this news from McGonagall herself. This morning, she informed me that there will be a professional Quidditch scout coming to Hogwarts in the summer to watch the final match."

My eyebrows shot up. A ripple of murmurs and whistles passed through my teammates. Even Sirius looked impressed.

James nodded. "That's right. It's a big deal. Which means that our team better be in the final matchup. And even more, that we win."

We nodded our assent. His eyes swept over us. "So, with that in mind, let's get to work. What are we?"

"Gryffindors!" we replied, with much more enthusiasm than normal.

He clapped his hands together. "Mount up. Spend five minutes flying to warm up." He smirked at Sirius. "You can start those push-ups now."

Sirius grumbled something unflattering as he lowered himself to the grass while the rest of us mounted our brooms. I was just about to kick off the ground when James put his hand on my broomstick with a wry grin. "Not you, Cupcake."

He said it just loud enough that all our teammates gave us weird looks as they took to the sky. I thought I saw Mikey McKinnon mime vomiting as he flew overhead, but James's hand kept my broom and me from going after the little punk.

Once everyone was out of earshot, I gave him a scathing look. "Cupcake?"

"Pet names are cute," he said, shrugging. "It's a sign of adoration on my behalf."

I pried his fingers from my broomstick. "Merlin, if I knew you were going to be this disgusting, I never would've agreed to your idiotic plan." I shook my head, grumbling under my breath as I continued picking his fingers off my broom. Damn him and his hand strength. "Cupcake, of all things…honestly…"

He grinned. "Would you prefer Love Muffin?"

"I think I'd prefer death." I succeeded in removing his fingers and swatted his hand away. "What am I still doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he said. "See how things were going."

With his hand gone, my broom hovered a few feet off the ground. I still straddled it, my toes barely brushing the cold, brittle grass. With the sun setting and the night closing in, it was becoming much colder. I needed to fly before I started freezing to my broom.

"Can't it wait until after practice?" I sighed. "If a scout really is coming next term, then we should get to work instead of chatting."

"Are you questioning your Captain's orders?" he said, hazel eyes twinkling. "I expected better from you, Capaldi."

"James," I said, my voice laced with warning. "Either spit it out or let me fly."

"All right, all right, calm down," he said. "I was just wondering how you think our plan is going."

I sighed again and leaned forward, draping my forearms across my broom. The wood hummed beneath me, ready for takeoff. Though my Shooting Star was steadily going out of fashion among the professional Quidditch players, I was loath to get a new one, despite my dad's offers. It was my first broom, my baby, the wood notched with scratches and carvings where I'd scraped out my initials and little stars and flowers. My dad had nearly fainted when he saw what I'd done, blaspheming my broom in such a way, but I liked it. It was just…me.

"It's going, all right?" I said. "Leigh even said a couple weeks ago that the whole school's been talking about us." I rolled my eyes. "Kind of hard for no one to notice when you've been so nauseatingly persistent these last weeks."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

I arched an eyebrow at him. "You've been following me around like a lost puppy." I made my voice deeper and rougher to imitate him. "'Cleo, let me get that for you! Cleo, you look stunning today! Cleo, can I hold that for you? Cleo, can I feed you grapes and wipe your arse too while I'm at it?'" I fixed him with a pointed glare. "It's annoying."

"Well, how else am I supposed to show I'm interested in you?" he asked, petulant.

"By treating me normally?" I said. "Stop acting like you worship the very ground I walk on."

He gazed out to the pitch, thoughtful. Above us, our teammates flew idly, warming up. Off to our right, Sirius still puffed away at his push-ups, muttering under his breath.

"My mum always told me to treat a girl special," James said, looking back to me. "She said women love a gentleman."

I rested my chin on my broom. "You can still be a gentleman without appearing at my side every three seconds." I frowned. "How do you always find me, anyway? Did you memorize my schedule or something?"

He waved me off. "So, what should I do, then? Ignore you until the 15th?"

"Just treat me like you normally would," I said. "Y'know, minus calling me 'Gnome' and such."

"But it's such a lovely nickname."

I rolled my eyes. "And no stalking me. It's fine if you walk me to class every once in a while, but following me like a loyal lapdog is a bit much."

He frowned. "Fine, fine. Noted. How do I ask you out, then?"

"You just ask." I raised my brows at him when he made a face. "What?"

"That's it?" He seemed genuinely shocked. "No grand gesture? No audience? Nothing?"

"If you even think about asking me out publicly and humiliating me in front of the entire school, I'm flying you to the highest goalpost and then dropping you. Without a wand."

"So murderous." He knelt down until he was eye-level with me and leaned in close. It was disconcerting, being this near to him. I could count every individual lash if I wanted. I was about to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, but he wrapped his hand around the top of my broom and tugged it closer until our noses were almost touching. He grinned. I stared, bewildered, as he dropped his voice low and said, "I love it when you talk violently to me."

Was this buffoon going to kiss me? No way. Too far. I curled my right hand into a fist, but before I could deck him for invading my personal space, a throat cleared awkwardly from our sides.

Sirius looked back and forth between us as if we were alien creatures. In any other circumstance, I would've laughed at how uncomfortable the bloke looked, but I was still trying to process what was happening.

"Er…" Sirius kept staring. "Am I…interrupting something?"

James straightened, not looking embarrassed or bothered in the slightest. I remained stuck to my broom, my face heating to a degree I was sure wasn't healthy. Oh Godric, please tell me I wasn't blushing.

"Not at all," James said easily. "I was just teaching Cleo some proper broom-handling skills, if you know what I mean."

I choked. Sirius glanced to me, vaguely disgusted. James just grinned. "Done with your punishment, Padfoot? Good. Up you get. We're starting with the Polansky play today."

"Right." Sirius nodded, dazed. "I'll just, er, leave you to it."

He turned and mounted his broom, shooting into the darkening sky like he couldn't get away from us fast enough. James turned back to me and waggled his eyebrows.

"So, how was that?" he asked. I didn't answer. "If you keep your mouth open any longer then you'll start swallowing flies, Clee."

"What the hell was that?" I rasped.

"That, my dear Gnome," he said, smiling, "was flirting. A spectacle for the masses, if you will."

"You could've warned me," I said. My shock was subsiding, but I was still blindsided.

"True, but that would've ruined all the fun." He shrugged. "Plus, I don't get to see you blush often. It's quite a charming look on you."

He reached out to poke my red cheek. I slapped his hand away. He laughed. "C'mon, Cleo. If we want our plan to work, we have to sell it. That's what you said."

"I don't like looking like a fool," I snapped. "We're in this together, James. And broom-handling skills? Really?"

"Okay, that one was too far," he said. "But did you see the look on Sirius's face? Totally worth it."

I sat up straight on my broomstick, glowering at him. He sighed.

"All right, I'm sorry, Clee. I just wanted your reaction to be authentic."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He scratched under his goggles. Two red rings had formed on his forehead from where they'd been sitting for the last twenty minutes.

"You've clammed up on me," he said. He gestured to me. "Ever since we agreed to this thing, it's like you shut me out or something. Your guard's up." He frowned. "If it's because you're uncomfortable with the whole dating thing, I get it. I can stop and find another way. I don't want you to be miserable if that's all this is gonna bring."

"No, it's not that," I said, shaking my head. "I just… I dunno. I've never done this before. The whole fake-flirting thing… It's new to me, okay? And I guess I've never been great at acting." I crossed my arms. "Maybe you're right about the authenticity thing. It does produce a more…real reaction." I groaned. "I can't believe I just said you were right about something."

He laughed.

"I'll be sure to mark this day in my calendar," he said, grinning. "But if you're one-hundred percent okay with this, Cleo, then I'd like to try it out."

"Yeah. One-hundred percent." I suddenly smiled, mischievous. "As long as you allow me the same courtesy."

He cocked a brow. "If you think you can handle it, Capaldi, then by all means." He waved a hand. "Go for it."

"Brilliant." I nudged my broom forward until we were nose-to-nose again. I flicked his chin. "Game on, Potter."

And without waiting for his reply, I kicked off the ground and soared into the velvet sky.

Please review! I love hearing your thoughts!

Cleo and James have stepped up their game and everyone's wondering what the hell is going on with those two. How will they react once Cleo and James start "dating"? And how will James ask Cleo out?

Next Chapter: Girlfriend

xx