A week had passed and Tobias was still avoiding Poppet. Avoiding was the right word because he was pleasant if the two were forced to come face-to-face but if he could avoid it, he wasn't there. It was sad. Poppet found herself missing him greatly. She honestly missed her partner in crime.

Quidditch practice was on the incline. The match against Ravenclaw was only three weeks away and so the Gryffindor team were on the pitch whenever they could be. James had them put through their paces with tough drills and often mealtimes were missed due to over-run practices. Tobias was distant but not unpleasant. The only time he'd laughed during Quidditch practice since they got back was when James fell off his broom. And even then it was a forced, cruel laugh. Poppet sighed.

Quidditch practice on Wednesday night finished on time. Everyone wandered back to the castle through the slush but James asked Poppet to stay behind and help him put the equipment away. She obliged and helped him carry the box of balls into the store cupboard just by the side of the pitch.

"I just don't get him, you know?" The subject had turned to Tobias. "He just stopped talking to me without a reason. I'm so confused."

"Me too, Hastings," James said, placing a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

"He didn't even send me anything for my birthday," Poppet sighed, sitting down on the bench that ran through the store room.

James sat down beside her. "Look, Hastings, a tosser like that doesn't deserve a friend like you."

Poppet was taken aback. James Potter was comforting her. He was actually being nice. She looked up at him and his sincere smile told her that he wasn't pretending. Poppet was momentarily speechless.

"Thanks, James," Poppet said, grinning.

And then, it happened again. James was getting closer and closer to her face. Everything around her seemed to slow down. Suddenly, his lips were on hers. It started out slowly, softly but once Poppet started kissing him back (oops!) he took that as sign to kiss her harder. His hands were on her waist now and her arms found the back of his neck. Electricity was pulsing through her body. Her head was spinning. Merlin, don't ever let this end. James pulled her closer so their bodies were touching. Poppet's body was fire. It was intense. As far as Poppet was aware, there was nobody else in the whole world but James Potter. The room around her was melting away. The smell of mildew wasn't even bothering her anymore. It was just her and James. Merlin. A warmth spread over her body like she'd just had a steaming hot cup of coffee. His hand was teasing the bottom of her shirt and then his bare hands were on her bare waist and his touch was exciting. She shuddered. Merlin.

James pulled away and looked Poppet in the eyes. She had never been kissed like that before in her life. The room around her suddenly started to piece itself together and the smell of mildew was back, stinging her nostrils.

"Why?" She whispered.

"I – don't – know," James breathed.

For a moment, they sat in complete silence. Poppet's hands were knotted together on her knees. She didn't look at James. She didn't want to. She didn't understand why.

Then, as if nothing had happened, James stood up and offered her his hand to pull her up as well. She didn't take it. They walked together back to the castle and James refused to let the walk be awkward. He kept forcing out joke after joke and Poppet made herself laugh. Why did this keep happening? Why did he keep kissing her? Why did she keep enjoying it?

They were sat at dinner when one of the worst things that ever happened to Poppet Hastings happened. The initial awkwardness between her and James had seemed to have worn off and they joined the group at dinner, laughing and joking. Blane had gone to sit with Tobias much to Florence's disgust. Apparently she thought her boyfriend had to spend every waking moment with his arm around her waist. It was a normal dinner. They had pasta with meatballs and cheese and garlic bread and it was delicious and exactly what Poppet needed after a cold Quidditch practice.

Then, the thing happened. Poppet saw her strutting towards their table just before dessert was about to be served. She stood behind James and addressed the whole table.

"Hi everyone," Jeanette Fields grinned, looking around.

There was a look of confusion on everyone's face. Roxanne refused to look up and instead stared back down at her plate.

"Hi!" Florence said, brightly.

"I just came over to say," Her hands were on James' shoulders, "that I can't make our date anymore, but I'll see you tomorrow morning. Is that okay, sweetie?"

That was it. That was the first punch in Poppet's stomach. This could not be real. This had to be a joke. A date? Sweetie? This was a wind up. It had to be a wind up.

"Oh – yeah, that's fine," James said, looking up at her. He was smiling broadly.

Fuck. This isn't real. This had to be a joke. This was a wind up. It had to be a wind up.

Jeanette leaned down and kissed him on the lips and then with a spring in her step, she walked away, back to the Ravenclaw table.

That was the second and fatal punch to Poppet's stomach. She didn't know what to do with herself. Her face was hot. Her vision was clouding up. She had to get out of here but she couldn't. She didn't want people to know they'd kissed. She didn't want people knowing that she, Poppet Hastings, was the other woman.

"What?" James said, taking in all the dumbfounded expressions that had settled themselves on everyone's faces.

"When did that happen?" Florence demanded.

"Uh – Saturday or Sunday," James said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Poppet could feel his eyes on her. She refused to look up.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Albus asked.

"There was – uh – never the right moment," James said. Poppet still hadn't looked up. Dessert appeared on the table and everyone tucked in. Poppet took the smallest slice, still not looking at James. How could he have kissed her less than two hours ago when he had a girlfriend? Intense guilt was tearing in Poppet's stomach. She forced down a slice of treacle tart. She felt so sick.

"Excuse me," Poppet said, quickly. Her legs were shaking. She stood up and walked out of the Great Hall, not looking behind her. How could she be so stupid? Why did she let him kiss her? He had a girlfriend. He cheated on his girlfriend with her. He had a girlfriend.

Poppet was halfway up the stairs when she heard James Potter shout her name from behind her. She kept walking.

"Hastings!"

Just keep walking. One foot in front of the other.

"Hastings!"

Don't look round. She was so embarrassed. How could he do this? How could he use her to cheat on his girlfriend?

"Poppet!"

She stopped dead in the corridor. He had never, ever used her first name before in all the months of her knowing him. It was weird to hear the words coming out of his mouth. It was almost surreal. He ran towards her. His hair was as messy as ever. His eyes were still friendly. His face was flushed.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry," James said, calmly.

"You let me kiss you back knowing that you had a girlfriend! Why the fuck did you let me do that?" Poppet spat out the words like they were Gurdyroots.

"I don't know," James sighed, "I was trying to cheer you up."

"Would a simple hug not have sufficed? You couldn't have gone 'there, there' and patted my arm? You let me become the other woman!" Tears of rage were prickling Poppet's eyes. She couldn't allow herself to cry.

"Why do you care so much? I kissed you. You didn't kiss me. It's my fault," James was so calm.

"I can't be called a whore again," Poppet whispered.

"Who called you a whore?" James said, taking a step closer.

"It doesn't matter," Poppet snapped.

James dropped the subject. "As long as Jeanette doesn't find out, we're in the clear!"

"Oh, fantastic," Poppet rolled her eyes.

James laughed and pulled her into a hug. He smelt nice, Poppet noticed. It wasn't an over-powering boy smell. He smelt like clean linen, soap and him. She closed her eyes, her head on his chest.

"But hey, if Jeanette does find out, I know who I'm coming to for my rebound," James smirked. Poppet pulled away from his arms, scowling at him from under her fringe. He laughed.

"Will – you – take – this – more – seriously?" Poppet smacked his arm between words.

"Sirius is literally my middle name," James grinned and then stepped aside so she couldn't hit him anymore.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

Poppet sat in her dorm that evening alone. She was enjoying the solitude and was trying to make sense of what had happened that evening. After Quidditch practice, James Potter had kissed her in the store cupboard. But why? Why did he kiss her? He has a girlfriend. Why did he kiss her? She felt like this would be on her mind for the rest of her life. She couldn't make any sense of James.

Florence came up to the dorm, relieved to see Poppet sat in bed. "Are you okay, Pops? You stormed out on us in the Hall!"

"I'm fine," Poppet said, quietly, "I just felt a bit sick."

"Oh. Why did James-?"

"He knew I wasn't feeling well. I told him after Quidditch. He was checking I was okay," Poppet lied.

"Oh," Florence didn't look convinced. "When you stormed out like that, we just thought-"

"You thought what?" Poppet asked.

"Well, that something was going on with you and James. But, it makes sense now," Florence smiled.

"Nothing's going on. He has a girlfriend," Poppet said, slowly.

"Well, yes. I know that. But Tobias hasn't been talking to you and I just thought that maybe you two had... started something. I don't know. It was just a thought," Florence said.

"He's vile," Poppet spat. Clean linen. Soap. Him.

"I – I know," Florence said, "I'm sorry. Don't be angry with me. It was just a silly thought."

"Yeah, it was," Poppet sighed.

"I'm sorry," Florence said, weakly.

"It's fine. Don't be sorry. I just don't feel well," Poppet said, apologetically.

"Get some sleep," Florence said, kindly. "Feel better tomorrow, sweetie."

Sweetie. That's what she'd called him. That's what his girlfriend had called him.

Poppet wasn't upset because she was jealous, she assured herself. She was upset because she had been cheated on. She knew what it was like to feel that betrayal. She knew the white-hot rage that Jeanette would feel if she found out. She knew it would all be directed at her. She felt guilty and sick. How could James be so blasé about this whole thing? If she'd cheated on someone she'd be tearing herself apart over it. However, she supposed that was the difference between her and James. She'd never cheat on anyone. He, obviously, would.

Sleep didn't come easily to Poppet that night. She played over potential scenarios in her mind of what might happen if Jeanette found out that she'd snogged his boyfriend. Most, if not all, of the scenarios ended with Poppet and/or James dead on the floor while Jeanette cried in rage over their dead bodies. It was two in the morning by the time Poppet finally drifted off.

AN: WOW. Sorry I haven't updated in agesssssss, I was holidaying in sunny Cyprus. I'm home now and James and Jeanette are back together. Poppet is tearing herself apart with guilt. Drama. I'm not 100% happy with this and by the time you read it I probably will have re-written it about 10 times. I have an AMAZING chapter planned in about three chapters time. Get ready, folks. Follow for updates, review if you want JSong insp. – Girl At Home by Taylor Swift. Also, huge shout out to Aliyah, Emily and, of course, Lauren who are supporting me and I know that some of these guest reviews are you guys. Love you all.