"Bollocks," James muttered as he, Poppet, Blane, Florence and Albus walked from the Quidditch pitch together, back up to the castle. In a very wild match, Hufflepuff had just beaten Slytherin by a nose. Lucas Smith was on form again, scoring eleven goals. Hufflepuff had caught the snitch almost by a whisker. Scorpious Malfoy looked less than pleased at his second failure for the Slytherin team. "The cup rests on one match. It could potentially be the most difficult match we'll ever play."
"We'll be fine, mate," Blane said, patting James on the shoulder, "I mean, we're unbeaten too! We just have to hope that Smith takes a bludger to the head during practice before the match in June."
James murmured something inaudible. He was tense and worried. Poppet could tell that Blane's kind words of encouragement weren't helping him. Lucas Smith was a very talented player.
"You're better than the Hufflepuff seeker, James," Florence chipped in, "I reckon he only caught the snitch because that Malfoy kid is so useless."
James nodded, sincerely. "I am a good seeker."
"You're also humble," Poppet teased. James smirked and pushed her with his shoulder, causing her to momentarily lose balance. Scowling, she rammed him back and he laughed, pulling his arms around her and lifting her up. Shrieking, Poppet tried to pull free of his grasp but he pulled her tighter. Her legs flailed as she kicked out wildly.
"Will you two stop?" Albus hissed. James set Poppet down on the ground and she used her hands to smooth out the wrinkles on her coat and jeans that he had caused. "People are staring."
"You don't strike me as the self-conscious type, Al," Blane chuckled, slinging his arm loosely around Florence's shoulder.
"I'm not," Albus said, calmly, "I'm just concerned that people will start spreading more rumours about you two if you don't stop flirting and messing about."
"More rumours?" A lump was forming in Poppet's throat. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you know the rumour that's going around at the moment about you two having a sordid affair," Albus said, slowly, "I just wouldn't add fuel to the fire, as so to speak. It won't be long before Jeanette hears it and you'll both be in trouble."
Poppet had not heard this rumour. She almost choked. Who would have started that?
"But we haven't done anything wrong," James said. The lump in Poppet's throat grew bigger. Yes, we have. "They can say what they want. Who's Jeanette going to believe? Me or a bunch of random losers who are more invested in my life than their own?"
"Well, I suppose she'd believe you," Albus conceded, "I still think you should be careful though."
Florence caught Poppet's eye momentarily but Poppet looked away, turning back to Albus and James. They were nearly back at the castle now. The snow was fast melting away and the sun was actually shining, for once. Poppet lifted her face up and felt the mildly warm rays hit her face. This wasn't even on the same level as Beauxbatons' South of France heat but at least it was something. The group pushed their way into the Great Hall and took a seat at the lunch table with Jocelyn and Rose.
"Where's Roxy?" Poppet asked as she helped herself to a slice of quiche.
"Dunno," Jocelyn shrugged, "I got up and she wasn't in the dorm so I assumed she was with you guys. I'm impressed you all managed to get out of bed. I did not find it easy."
Poppet laughed, "I was just as shocked as you were."
Everyone tucked into their lunch of quiche, salad and crisps. It was very delicious – Poppet felt that it really hit the spot. The elves' quiche was second to none and she found herself going back for three slices in the end. Everyone was laughing and joking around, mostly poking fun at Poppet and the amount of food she was shovelling into her mouth. It was almost astounding to watch. Who knew someone so small could have a stomach that big? After lunch, everyone bar James sloped back off to the common room. He had a date with Jeanette.
"Stay safe," Blane smirked as the two walked off into the grounds together.
"Don't wait up," James called back.
All afternoon, Poppet tried not to think about what they were up to. Roxanne still hadn't turned up and by four o'clock everyone was starting to get a little worried.
"Maybe she's in the library," Jocelyn suggested.
"Maybe," Poppet said, distracted. From the window, she could see James and Jeanette walking back up to the castle together. They were coming from the direction of Hagrid's hut. Poppet pulled her eyes away from the window and sighed. "Should we go and look for her?"
"I don't know why you're so concerned," Albus said, "I mean, she can't leave the castle! If she'd hurt herself, I think someone would've found her by now. If she's not back by dinner, we'll go and look for her."
"How are you so young yet so wise?" Poppet joked, walking over to the group from her window perch and ruffling the youngest Potter boy's hair. He scowled at her from under his fringe and she gave him a playful wink before sinking into the comfy, squishy sofa next to Rose.
"It's a gift," Albus laughed.
James wondered back into the common room half an hour after Poppet had seen him and Jeanette walking across the grounds together. He took off his coat and slung it over the back of the chair that Jocelyn was sitting in and he sat himself down next to his brother.
"How was your date, then?" Albus asked.
"Good," James said, "I took her to see Hagrid."
"What did he make of her?" Jocelyn asked.
"Well, he teaches her Care of Magical Creatures and obviously she's smart so he likes her," James said, "I think he was kind of disappointed I didn't have Al and Lily with me though. Jeanette could tell because all the way back to the castle she was in a paranoid frenzy about whether he liked her or not. Weird."
"Girls are weird," Blane said, solemnly. This comment got him a smack from Florence and a glare from every other female in the room.
"And boys aren't?" Jocelyn said, indignantly.
"We tell it like it is. You play mind games and care way too much about stupid things," James said, leaning back into his chair.
"I don't know," Poppet chipped in, "I know boys who have played mind games with me before." She caught James' eye.
"And you all care too much about stupid things!" Jocelyn exclaimed.
"Like what?" Blane quipped.
"Like Quidditch!" Jocelyn was exasperated. "You've all ruined friendships because of the bloody game!"
"Quidditch is more important than stupid things girls worry about. At least we don't worry about our hair or make up or anything," Blane said, dodging to avoid another slap from Florence.
"You're telling me that you, Blane 'Never A Hair Out Of Place' Hughes, don't care about your appearance?" Poppet laughed.
"I do care," Blane scowled, "Just not as much as you all do!"
Before the argument could heat up, Roxanne entered the common room. Everyone turned towards her as she walked in. She looked mildly confused with all the attention she seemed to now have. Jocelyn demanded to know where she'd been and Roxanne said she had been tutoring first years for Professor McGonagall to get extra credit in Transfiguration. Apparently, she'd helped Lily and her friend Alice turned an animal into a goblet which was second year level work. She apologised for not telling anyone where she was going but McGonagall had asked her yesterday, after Quidditch, and with the party happening she had forgotten to tell anyone. Everyone accepted this story and Roxanne came and sat down with them by the fire. Soon enough, six-thirty came around and everyone made their way down to dinner.
At eleven-thirty that night, James and Poppet were the only two left in the common room. After a minor panic of realising their History of Magic essay on the First Wizarding War was due in tomorrow, they found themselves on the floor, by the fire, a blanket covering their legs and parchment, quills, text books and empty ink pots surrounding them. Poppet could feel last night's late night catching up on her but she and James were determined to finish this essay.
"I can't believe we forgot about it," Poppet said, massaging her temples with her index fingers.
"I can," James snorted. "These are the notes we made last lesson."
He pulled out a roll of parchment from his bag with writing and small doodles all over it. It was the note form conversation they had had last lesson. Reading it back, it was almost nonsensical. Poppet couldn't believe she allowed herself to get this distracted by James. She internally scolded herself for allowing herself to be sidetracked by a boy.
"'The attack on Harry Potter in Godric's Hollow in 1981 was the main reason why Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters were unsuccessful in the First Wizarding War. Discuss.' I do love studying my own father in school," James smirked, as he read out the question they needed to answer.
"You should be an expert, then," Poppet said, writing the title at the top of her roll of parchment.
"You over-estimate me. I know a lot about the Second Wizarding War, not so much the first. Stories of the Second War was what I was brought up on," James sighed, opening the very large textbook on the First Wizarding War and flicking to the chapter on the downfall of Lord Voldemort.
"You disappoint me," Poppet laughed.
"You'd be the first," James said, his eyes scanning the text book that lay open on his lap in front of him.
"I somehow doubt that," Poppet suddenly noticed Harry's name on the page in James' text book and pointed to it.
James read the passage aloud. "'It is widely known that the night Voldemort lost his powers was the night that he attempted to use a killing curse on Harry Potter, who was one year old at the time. Sources have reported that Voldemort entered the Potter house in Godric's Hollow to kill the boy after Sybil Trelawney, a Divination teacher at Hogwarts and granddaughter of a famous Seer, professed that a boy born at the end of July would be the only one to kill Lord Voldemort. Voldemort entered the Potter residence during the night and killed James Potter, as he tried to defend his wife and son. Voldemort then murdered Lily Potter (nee. Evans) as she stood in the way of Harry. However, the killing curse that Voldemort used to try and murder Harry Potter rebounded and hit Voldemort himself. The only thing that saved Tom Riddle from death that night was the seven Horcruxes he had made previously, which were destroyed in a collective effort by Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Weasley (nee. Granger), Neville Longbottom, Regulus Black and Albus Dumbledore...' Uh, Hastings? Are you asleep?"
Poppet's eyes snapped open. "No," she said, groggily. "I'm awake. Well, the Horcruxes aren't relevant. But the rest is."
"So we need to paraphrase that?" James asked.
"Yep," Poppet said, "And find other factors."
"Great," James grumbled, dipping his quill into a pot of ink. "It's weird to see mine and Lily's name in text books. I forget we're named after dead people, sometimes."
"I guess it must be," Poppet said. "Luckily there's nobody dead with my name. It's the worst name ever."
"It's not so bad," James offered.
"You never use it," Poppet chided.
"I like using your last name, Hastings," James grinned. "But not because I hate your first name."
Poppet rolled her eyes. "What does the book say about other reasons why Voldemort failed?"
James started to read from the book again and Poppet could feel her eye lids getting heavier. The warmth from the fire, the blanket and James' body heat was comfortable, as was the pile of cushions and the rug that they were sat on. Poppet found her breathing becoming slower and steadier, and suddenly all she could hear was James' slow, calming voice fading...
"Hastings!" Poppet was awoken by a sharp whisper. She opened her eyes, and found that her head was on something hard. The fire was dying out and from the orange glow; she could see she was still in the common room. The hard thing that she had her head on was James' shoulder. Oops.
"Hmm?" Poppet said. Her body felt heavy from exhaustion. She lifted her head slowly and looked at James. He looked like he'd been to sleep as well.
"Should we go to bed? We sort of – um – fell asleep here," James said, quietly.
"Let's just stay," Poppet said. Her eyes were bleary and she just felt so sleepy.
"Are you sure?" James breathed.
"Positive," Poppet slid down so her head was on the pillows that she had once been sitting on and, with the woollen blanket covering most of her body, she stared to doze off again. She felt James imitate her. Their arms were touching very lightly under the blanket. All Poppet could smell was clean linen, soap and him. She didn't want this to end.
AN: This chapter was so... bitty. I'm sorry about that. Anyhow, I like the ending a lot and OH GOD NEXT CHAPTER THERE'S BANTER. Good luck, James and Poppet shipper. Updates may not be as regular as I am going back to school soon... sorry pals.