Poppet sat in History of Magic one week later with James and it was almost as if none of this last week's events had happened. The snow had melted away and March was fast approaching. Dappled sunlight streamed through the window and danced on the cold, stone floor. Poppet longed to be outside, to be on her broom and flying around. Quidditch practice was tonight and she couldn't wait. Despite his distraction, James was increasing Quidditch practices and emphasized the need for a Gryffindor victory against Hufflepuff. When James wasn't around, the team complained about him to no end. The match wasn't until June. Poppet urged that they lay off him. She knew that throwing everything he had into Quidditch distracted him from the other things on his mind. Like her, for example.

The day after their talk in the kitchen, James had broken up with Jeanette. It was apparently pretty nasty – Poppet hadn't pressed James for details but in a school so small you hear a lot of rumours – and Jeanette had ended up crying. James had assured Poppet that Jeanette didn't hate her. He'd told her the truth, about how Poppet didn't know what she was doing but that didn't save her from being on the receiving end of many of Jeanette's death stares, which wasn't the most pleasant of things. In fact, Poppet was pretty sure when she wasn't exaggerating when she said that the whole of Ravenclaw seemed to have a vendetta against her (aside from Lauren who had been very grateful she had managed to get her quill back from Adam). She trusted that James had told the truth but stories get twisted when they're passed along the grape vine so many times. As usual, Poppet pretended it didn't bother her in the hope that it would actually stop bothering her but that didn't seem to be the case. Rumours – false ones and true ones – were swapped and exaggerated everyday about her, it seemed.

Poppet jumped a mile when James leant over to her to pass her a piece of parchment. Daydreaming, she had forgotten she was even in History of Magic. She knew that there was no way she'd be passing this NEWT. Somehow, she didn't really mind however she knew that future Poppet would kick herself about this. Her relationship with James had been straining the first few days after he broke it off with Jeanette but a quiet weekend of Quidditch and homework had seemed to repair it. Poppet was getting used to the fact that James needed space, despite every fibre of her being screaming for more. She smiled as she took the parchment from him.

J: Daydreaming? About me? ;)

P: You wish.

J: What are you daydreaming about then?

P: Blane.

J: Ha ha. You better hope I don't show Florence this piece of parchment.

P: You like me too much to do that.

J: I wouldn't test my patience if I were you...

P: But if I can't test your patience what will I do to fill my time?

J: Maybe actually do some school work?

P: You're hilarious.

J: Merlin forbid we actually do school work at this school we live in.

P: Florence told me that at some muggle schools you don't have to board. You just go home at the end of the day.

J: Really?

P: Yup.

J: Muggles are weird.

P: Yup.

As per usual on a Wednesday afternoon, History of Magic was the last lesson of the day and after Professor Binns dismissed them, Poppet and James made their way back to the common room. James seemed to talk only about Quidditch these days and it was getting a tad tedious. He was running Poppet through a new tactic when they reached the portrait hole.

"Afternoon, Mr Potter. Nice to see you, Miss Hastings," The Fat Lady smiled at the two of them.

"You're being nice this evening, Fat Lady," James remarked.

"How dare you insinuate that I am not always nice, Mr Potter! You know, it's not just a name you share with your grandfather," The Fat Lady chuckled to herself, "I require a password."

"Moonstone," Poppet smirked, and The Fat Lady gave an over exasperated sigh as the portrait hole swung open. The pair of them stepped into the common room and made their way to their usual seats in the really squishy armchairs by the fire. Poppet slumped down next to James so that their arms were almost touching. She'd missed physical contact with him. Because of all the rumours, James had obviously been avoiding touching her or looking overly flirty with her in public. It was getting to the point where Poppet didn't even mind that she was being talked about. She just wanted a James Potter hug.

"You've been quiet, today," James stated, turning to look at her. Oh, those eyes! If Poppet had any poetic ability, she imagined the sonnets she'd write about those eyes. As it happened, however, Poppet had not been gifted with a Shakespeare-esque way with words.

"Have I?" Poppet asked. Her voice was soft, low and quiet.

"Quieter than usual," James sighed.

"Do you mind that people are talking about us?" Poppet didn't approach the subject very tentatively but she was so sick of James tiptoeing around the subject. She needed to tackle the Hypogriff in the room. "I know what they say. They say that we slept together. I've heard awful things about me. Does it bother you?"

James took a deep breath. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't affect me. However, we know the truth. We know that we never slept together an, to be honest, I don't mind what others think. I know the truth and you know the truth. Stuff around here always gets exaggerated and embellished. You learn to deal with it, I s'pose."

"Is that why you won't touch me anymore?" Poppet knew she was being forward. But, after eight days of edging around topics of conversation she was sick of it. She needed answers.

James looked alarmed for a moment and Poppet wondered if she'd spoken out of turn. "I – I guess so. Why do you ask?"

"I miss it," Poppet said, simply. "I miss how things were."

James nodded, "I do too." Then, without a word, he put his arm around her, pushing himself closer to her on the sofa and she put her head on his chest, placing her arm over his stomach and snuggled into his side. She inhaled. She never thought she could miss clean linen and soap so much.

They stayed like this for a while, perfectly still. Poppet breathed in and out, just enjoying the closeness that she had been craving for a week. She didn't feel guilty because she knew that this was what James wanted too. However, for the sake of more rumours being spread, he refrained. Poppet internally thanked Binns for releasing them a few minutes early so that she could have this time alone with James. Lord knows, they needed it. Before long, James and Poppet were joined by Florence, Roxanne and Jocelyn. James kept his arm loosely around Poppet's shoulder but she pulled herself away from his side.

"You two think you can get away with a little private common room cuddling, eh?" Florence smirked as she sat herself on the armchair next to the fire. "Think again!"

Jocelyn laughed. "We are here to personally ruin all cute Joppet moments. Just call us the Cockblock Crusaders."

"Joppet?" James chuckled, pulling his arm away from Poppet and sitting up. He remained close to her though. "Is that what we are now?"

"We made it up just now in Potions," Florence was almost beaming with glee.

"You made it up. I want no part in this. You two can do whatever you want but just don't expect me to get involved," Roxanne didn't look very pleased with what she'd just walked in on in the common room. When Poppet had told her that she was going to be giving James some space and they may not ever date Roxanne was almost giddy with glee. Poppet was grateful that Roxanne had been so accepting of her feelings for her cousin. She didn't expect her to like it; she just had to put up with it.

"I think you're all forgetting that Hastings and I are not actually dating," James reminded them, "we're just friends."

"Oh, just friends?" Florence's eyes were lit with amusement, "if that's the case, come over here and give me a cuddle like that, James!"

James shot her a playful glare. "Who said we're friends, Flo?" James found himself on the receiving end of a very crude hand gesture. He gave one back to Florence in return and the pair started laughing. Poppet laughed too. Thinks might not be the same but they weren't so bad, she thought.

Quidditch practice that evening was as intense as ever. Any time James turned around or looked the other way, the whole team exchanged looks of amusement. It was so intense. Usually in these periods just after a match, the team would meet once a week instead of the usual two and in that one practice lark about, maybe play some three-a-side games or have some races. Instead, James was talking tactics and he was even considering starting a playbook where everyone could have their own chapter. While James did want to win his first year as captain, it was obvious to pretty much everyone that James was only doing these extreme drills and passionate tactic planning to take his mind off his personal life so they let him get away without. However, halfway through practice that evening, a not so friendly face on the team decided it would be a good idea to throw a hissy fit.

"This is pointless, Potter," Tobias snapped after James had just talked them through a highly complicated drill. "Our match against Hufflepuff is not until June. It's February. I'm freezing cold and wasting my time. Until you start easing up a bit, I'm not coming to these practices."

James looked like Tobias' words had physically hurt him. "I just want us to win."

"Well, it's eating into dinner time," Tobias snapped.

"Lay off him, man," Blane said, placing his hand on Tobias' shoulder but Tobias shrugged him off and took a step forward so he was closer to James.

"We all know why you're doing these practices," Tobias spat, "but however many practices you do can't distract you from the fact that you're a liar and a cheat and Poppet... well, let's not get me started on Poppet."

James drew his wand. "You say what you want about me, Holt, but don't you dare talk about her."

"No!" Poppet stepped in between the boys, facing James. "He just wants a rise out of you. Just let it go."

Reluctantly, James shoved his wand back into his pocket. Poppet stepped aside again, feeling pleased that she'd managed to prevent James from doing anything stupid. "I want you to get off my pitch," James said, calmly. "Until you can start acting like you're part of this team, you are not welcome back."

"Well, I know which buttons of yours to press for future reference," Tobias smirked, glancing behind him at the rest of the team. They returned his glance with cold, even stares.

"Leave. Now."

"Jeez Potter, calm down," Tobias slung his broom over his shoulder and walked off the pitch and back up to the castle. James' face was contorted with rage but he shrugged it off and continued to explain the drill to the rest of the team, as if there little interruption had never happened.

Poppet was concerned. She knew that to get a rise out of James, Tobias would only have to say something about her that was unkind. She just hoped that James would have the sense not to react.

AN: Sorry this was mildly filler-y. A little bit of banter at the end though. Keep me posted with what you think. IMPORTANT NOTICE: If you want to leave criticism of my writing, I am happy to read it and work on my writing. If you want to leave mindless hate, please refrain. I am writing this fanfic for myself first and foremost, and I don't want to know or even care if you think it's lame. It's hurtful and not helpful. All you did with that review (and you know who you are, and you're a guest so I can't PM you) was upset me. So, thanks for that.