The jibes that Tobias made at James continued all week. He didn't turn up for Quidditch practices but he went out of his way to find James and make the digs anyway. He wasn't saying much but it was enough to get a rise out of James and that's what Tobias wanted. He'd once ignored Poppet and James in the corridors – turning away, looking scornful – but now he sneered insults, jabs and cracks, which made James shake with rage. Poppet dreaded the day when Tobias got James alone. With his friends and family surrounding him, James didn't lash out. At first, gentle encouragement was required – "Just leave it, James. He's not worth it." – but now James would stop his hand from reaching his wand with just a sharp look from anyone who was with him. It was like he had been trained – conditioned – to do so.
It was unfair. Everyone agreed with this. Not even Blane knew why Tobias had turned on James and Poppet but Poppet had a feeling she knew why. She wondered endlessly whether she gave off signs of liking James even before she knew it herself. Perhaps Tobias had picked up on these. Perhaps he thought James was the reason why they'd been flirty and friendly for weeks on end but hadn't ever scheduled a date. Poppet didn't mind anymore. Although she was curious, it didn't bother her like it used to. The feeling of guilt was long gone and instead replaced with anguish. It didn't matter that it was James who Tobias was antagonising. It could have been anyone. The fact remained that Tobias was effectively bullying someone. Poppet felt that could not be forgiven.
Two weeks had passed since Tobias' initial attack on the Quidditch pitch and Poppet was walking along the Charms corridor alone. She was on her way to History of Magic but Professor Macmillian had kept them later by accident and she was late. Time wary, Poppet stopped meandering along the quiet corridors and instead decided to get a move on. She picked up her pace.
She knew Binns wouldn't mind – or even notice - but the annoying teenage girl inside of her yearned for time alone for James. She did hate herself sometimes. She hated the fact that she'd become so dependent on someone so volatile. James had been interesting in the past few weeks. He'd been far friendlier towards Poppet and she was very glad of this. Quite often they shared a wink-wink-nudge-nudge moment together at the dinner table. James would snake his arm around her shoulder casually as they walked along corridors. He would whisper jokes and nonsense into her ear in the common room. His hand would find the small of her back when she walked through a door in front of him. She was happy about that. It was like old James was back. However, he'd often disappear for hours on end. Albus' old map became a life-line to Poppet. He'd be somewhere different each time. Poppet didn't want to ask him where he'd gone. He deserved privacy, she decided.
Poppet had become so lost in thought whilst walking to History of Magic that she nearly screamed when she walked into someone on her travels. She apologised profusely as she took a step back to look up at who she had just stumbled in to. Bile rose into her throat when she saw who it was. Tobias. He was with Lars and Tom, who stood behind him. They loomed above her, glaring. She swallowed hard.
"Well, if it isn't the little whore out for a morning stroll," Tobias sneered. Lars and Tom laughed cruelly. Poppet glowered back.
"Excuse me?" She spat the words out.
"Where are you going? Off to fuck Potter, are you?" Tobias smiled, looking back to Lars and Tom for approval. They smiled back.
"Actually, I was on my way to History of Magic before you rudely blocked my way," Poppet said, matter-of-factly.
"I wouldn't bother. You don't need NEWTs to work at the brothel," Tom spoke this time. Poppet was taken aback slightly. This was a very crude thing to say someone who you didn't know. She tried to think of a time where she'd spoken to Tom. Nothing came to mind.
Tobias cackled cruelly, "I think she'll be paid enough for being Potter's little play thing anyway. I mean, you'd have to be paid to want to fuck Potter, wouldn't you?" Lars and Tom smirked. "What's wrong? Haven't got Potter here to save you? Is that why you're so quiet?"
"I'm not giving you the satisfaction of a reaction," Poppet said, simply.
"Ooh, look at Poppet Hastings taking the high road," Tobias sneered. "Do you want a fucking medal?"
"What I'd like is for you to move out of my way so I can go to my lesson," Poppet couldn't believe how calm she was.
"Not a chance of that, you little slut-"
"What the fuck did you just call her?" James was stood at the end of the corridor behind the three boys who were harassing Poppet. He was wild-eyed and pale. Poppet thought that h looked like he was out for blood. Uh-oh. This is going to end badly.
"Oh, isn't that nice? Potter has come to save his damsel in distress," Tobias cooed, turning around to face James. "Where's your suit of armour, Potter?"
"I asked you what you called her," James was visibly shaking. Poppet shuddered. She willed for him not to do anything rash.
"I called her a slut - which she is," Tobias said, as if he was stating an obvious fact.
James drew his wand. Tobias smirked with satisfaction. He'd gotten what he wanted; he had gotten a rise out of James.
"Don't, James!" Popped plead.
He didn't listen to her. "Isn't that sweet, boys? Potter's going to hex me for calling his girl a slut! What a truly loyal bloke," Tobias said this in the foulest, bitterest tone.
"I'm sorry you're jealous that Poppet chose me over you," James snapped, "I'm sorry I'm so much better than you are."
"Better than me? That's hilarious," Tobias spat. James raised his wand. Tobias laughed maliciously. "Hex me then, go on! Avada Kedavra me if you really want!" Tobias was talking a big game but Poppet saw him fiddle in his pocket for his wand, his hands panicked when he couldn't find it at first.
Poppet pulled her wand out too. James shot her a look as if to say 'put it away'. Poppet ignored him, acting as if she hadn't seen it. James, recognising a lost cause, put all his attention back to Tobias, who was still firing insults and slurs at Poppet's expense. Before Poppet could beg him again to stop, James had fired a spell at Tobias with no incantation and disarmed him. An expression of shock wove itself onto Tobias' face and suddenly he was flying backwards, crashing loudly into a suit of armour that was at the end of the corridor. Poppet gasped as Lars and Tom panicked and scattered.
"What on earth is going on here?" Uh oh. Professor – also headmistress – Clearwater was striding down the corridor. She had a grim expression on her face; her usually calm eyes were ablaze with irritation. Poppet swallowed hard. "James Potter! Why is Mr. Holt lying crumpled atop a seven hundred year old suit of armour?"
"I – I hexed him, Professor," James stuttered.
"And why are you out of lessons? You're meant to be in History of Magic now, are you not?" Professor Clearwater was not usually an angry woman. She was terribly benign usually, placid even.
"Yes, miss," James said, quietly.
"So why do you both think that it's okay to skip lessons and have little duels in my corridors?" She was talking to Poppet now, too. Tobias had stood up and was dusting himself off, and making a great show of it too. Poppet decided rolling her eyes would be a bad move, but the urge to do so was overwhelming.
"We don't," Poppet conceded.
Professor Clearwater gave them both a detention on Saturday with Mr Filch. Tobias got off with nothing, as he had a free period, and the foul things he was saying were not heard. He smiled smugly at James and Poppet who skulked back to History of Magic behind Professor Clearwater.
P: Why weren't you in class?
J: I needed to pee and good job I did.
P: You lie.
J: I never lie.
P: Why weren't you in class?
J: Fine. I was looking for you.
P: You daft fuck. Did you think I was in danger?
J: Not necessarily. I was bored. I was concerned. And good job I was.
P: I could have held my own, you know.
J: I know. But I'd rather you didn't have to.
Poppet understood why she had to serve her detention. She had technically been truanting. She just wished she'd had the chance to explain her side of the story to Professor Clearwater before she carted them off back to History of Magic. Wordlessly she had marched them back to Professor Binns who hadn't even noticed their absence. He was more annoyed that he'd been forced to pause his lecture on the downfall of Lord Voldemort to talk to Professor Clearwater.
The pair trudged out of History of Magic twenty five minutes later. They were a source of gossip again as they had been found out of class together and obviously that was going to stir up some rumours. The constant stream of scandal that had surrounded them in the past week was faster-flowing than ever and by that evening, Poppet and James were quite disgruntled.
Poppet walked down to dinner with Roxanne, Florence and Jocelyn, mumbling all the way about how unfair it was that Tobias got off scot-free while she and James had to serve a detention for defending themselves. Her trio of friends listened intently, nodding at appropriate parts and sharing a groan at a part they found particularly upsetting. All three of them seemed equally as shocked that Tobias had lowered himself to use such degrading and disgusting words to describe Poppet. Florence was a ball of fury by the time they reached the Great Hall, reeling over the fact that he'd called her a whore. Poppet smiled uneasily to herself. If only Florence had seen her in her Beauxbatons days. She might not be so offended if she had.
Thursday turned into Friday which became Saturday and at two p.m, James and Poppet begrudgingly reported themselves to Argus Filch, the elderly squib caretaker at Hogwarts. He was old and decrepit, his back hunched like he should be in Notre Dame. Greasy, white hair hung over his face and his eyes were a stony, cold grey. He sneered at the pair as they stood outside his office on that Saturday afternoon bearing yellow, moulding teeth. Poppet shuddered. She was stood quite sheepishly in front of the old man but James stood there, bold as brass, grinning at Filch as if he were an old friend. Poppet forgot that James served many a detention with Filch, probably so many that James did regard him as an old friend.
"James Potter," Filch's skin was oily and slimy and his voice almost had a flicker of amusement as he read James' name off the list, "I haven't seen you here for a while."
"Teachers like to deal with me personally now, sir," James stated, his almond eyes still glowing.
"I wouldn't know why," Filch snarled. "Poppet Hastings, also."
"That's me," Poppet winced.
Filch looked her up and down, "Today, the floor of the Great Hall needs washing. You're to do it without magic and before five. No talking, no laughing, no wands. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mr Filch," James said.
Filch handed them both large wooden buckets filled with hot, soapy water and mops. Poppet struggled to carry hers as it was so heavy but she sucked it up and carried it anyway. By the time they reached the Great Hall, her forearms were burning. For the first half an hour, Filch watched them closely. He then clearly remembered another job he had to do – or got bored – and left them, mopping the floors together.
"He never usually stays that long," James commented, pushing his broom under the Ravenclaw table, "I think he just has it in for me."
"Doesn't everyone?" Poppet laughed, sitting down on the Hufflepuff table and leaning her broom against the bench. Her calves and forearms were aching like crazy and she just needed to take a load off. She watched James carefully as he carried on mopping.
"I guess," James shrugged. He looked handsome today, Poppet thought. His light, chestnut eyes were duller because he was bored, but his hair was tousled and his jaw line was defined with a small but noticeable area of stubble. Usually, James was clean-shaven so this was a new look on him. He wore skinny jeans, a white t shirt and an unbuttoned green and navy plaid shirt over the top of it, which was rolled up past his elbows. Poppet internally swooned. "I'm still mad about why we got this fucking detention. He called you awful things."
"I don't mind," Poppet lied, "I've been called far worse."
"You're lying," James stated, sweeping his hair back with his free hand as he continued to work. "You do mind and nobody would call you worse."
"I got it all the time at Beauxbatons. People's mothers even called me a whore. I suppose I was, in a way," Poppet contemplated.
"Poppet, a whore is someone who is paid for performing sexual acts. You weren't that. And if you slept around, kissed a few guys, whatever... You shouldn't be shamed for doing that. Different strokes for different folks," James' mildly feminist spiel was attractive and Poppet resisted the urge to jump him.
"I got cheated on and he turned it around," Poppet sighed. "It was because I, before our relationship, had a reputation as a man-eater. I used to go to parties and get with anyone I could for some form of validation, I suppose. I was really insecure. I needed to be told by a boy that I was attractive or I wouldn't believe it."
"That tosser from the photo cheated on you?" James assumed.
"Yes," Poppet replied. "I was cheated on. And he told everyone we broke up because I cheated. So many people hated me. He was like you; the really popular guy that everyone really liked and I was the girl who fucked him over. The one friend I had abandoned me, I wasn't invited to parties anymore. My social life fell apart." Poppet was suddenly sad. The memories she was bringing back were unpleasant ones. She sat down and James quickly dropped his broom to slide in beside her.
"I had no idea." He was solemn, sympathetic and melancholy. "I'm sorry."
"When you cheated on Jeanette with me, I was so shocked because I didn't want to be that girl who broke up a relationship," Poppet sighed, "I knew what it was like. I didn't want to put someone else through that."
"You're a good person," James said, grabbing her hands and forcing her to look in his eyes. They were glinting with sympathy. "You're a fucking good person and I wish I could have morals like yours." And then, he kissed her. It was soft and quick but the rush was enough to send Poppet to the hospital wing. It was friendly and familiar, like coming home for Christmas. It wasn't hot or romantic. It was nice. Poppet really needed nice.
"You are a good person, James," Poppet assured him. "You just sometimes need some guidance and that's okay."
"You know how you said you'd wait for me, in the kitchen that day? You know how you said you and I would have a conversation about us when I felt ready?" James said, softly. Poppet nodded, almost choking. "I think I'm ready for that conversation."
AN: Waheeeeeeey. More on why Tobias is being an asshat later on. I wrote this chapter in Cyprus, just letting ya'll know. Also, new update schedule: Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday. Thanks :)