Logan and Poppy return to the Hufflepuff common room after returning the dragon egg and still have so much energy that instead of going to bed, they stay up and talk. Where could that lead, I wonder...

Without further ado:

"Wasn't she just miraculous?" Poppy sighed to her friend. She loved beasts, and dragons were no exception, but this was the first time she had ever been so close to one! It was an exhilarating experience! She hoped it would not be the last time she felt like this.

"She sure was, though I believe I would have enjoyed that interaction a bit more if I hadn't been fairly certain she would kill us." Logan replied will a grin. It was undeniable that the experience ended up being one neither Hufflepuffs would ever forget, but at the time, Logan had counted at least 5 different ways the dragon could have ended their lives on the spot.

Poppy looked at him and responded with a smile that matched his, "I guess that's why they say 'Never stand between a mother dragon and her eggs!' Still, though, I am glad we returned the egg. Who knows how she would have reacted if we didn't." She didn't even want to think about the destruction a grieving mother-dragon could have wrought. "Well, I am certainly glad the two are reunited. And I'm especially glad that we did this together. I get the feeling this wouldn't have ended as well as it did without you there."

That last sentence caused Poppy to look up at Logan, who was staring into the fireplace as he spoke. The left side of his face sported three long scars over his eye. She had wanted to ask him about them before but was always too worried it would be a sensitive topic and might make him distance himself from her.

Logan could feel her gaze resting on him and knew what she wanted to ask. It stirred painful memories within him but much like how Poppy had shared her family history with him, he found himself wanting to share the story with her. "Have I told you about my father?"

The question caught Poppy off guard as she had accidentally slipped into one of her trances of staring at Logan. (Yes, she was aware she was behaving like a love-sick mooncalf. Now shut up.) "I think you've told me a bit about your mother, but I can't recall you ever mentioning your father. Why?"

Logan turned to look her in the eye, to be sure he had her attention. "I want to tell you what happened to him. It is really painful to talk about these memories, but everyone always says it helps to share the pain instead of bottling it up. I haven't ever had someone I trusted enough to share this story. Would you be willing to listen?"

Poppy felt her heart flutter at the notion of being the person he trusted most. She had been eight when she thought him trustworthy enough to meet Highwing, (admittedly a massive gamble on her part, but it ended up working out) and he had done nothing but help her and earn deeper trust since then. "Of course, I'll listen." Poppy couldn't tell why, but she felt like it would be important to be physically closer to him for this story. She shifted herself to his immediate side and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder blade.

Logan looked back at the fireplace and sighed. "The reason I didn't start at Hogwarts until this year is because until a few months before the start of the year, we all thought I was a squib. I was of course upset by this, knowing that I myself wouldn't get to use magic the way my parents could. But that didn't lessen my love of seeing magic every day.

"My father would often take time out of his day to show me any spell he could cast, and I loved it. But in a wizarding community, word spreads fast when a child is identified as a squib. Before long, I was bullied by the other children and treated like an invalid by other adults. People just assume that since squibs can't use magic, they are basically helpless creatures worth nothing more than pity."

Poppy could feel her chest tightening up at the thought of such behavior directed at Logan. She tried to remember if she personally knew any squibs and silently prayed she had never treated anyone the way Logan was describing.

"Those were the average witches and wizards. Then came the pure-bloods. They believed that a squib was a child that should never have been born and weren't quiet about that ideology either. One man in particular was especially cruel. He'd treat me as though the air I breathed was poison and often told my parents to be rid of me. They refused to send me away and defended my right to live among the magical community, but the man always scoffed and continued on his way.

"That is until the day we found a note on our front door. It said that there were many dangers in the wizarding world and that someone who couldn't use magic would be in constant danger. The note was phrased to look like a warning with genuine concern for my safety, but we knew it was a threat. My parents made me stay inside for a few days just to be safe. They had no idea that was exactly what the author of the note wanted to happen."

Logan began to choke up as the story progressed and Poppy started to rub soothing circles on his back. She could already tell this story had an awful ending, but Logan needed to get this weight off his shoulders, and she would always be there to help him bear the load. Logan took a moment to compose himself, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes of the tears he had not allowed to fall. He then continued, "The third night of my in-home confinement, I went to my room to get some sleep. I opened the door and found a masked man standing there. Next to him was a cage with a tarp covering. He didn't say a word. He just looked at me, removed the tarp, and cast Alohomora. The cage contained a Dark Mongrel which leapt from its imprisonment as the man disapparated. I was 12 years old..." Logan trailed off with a distant gaze as his left hand reached up to touch the scar on his face. The tears had returned to his eyes but still hadn't fallen. The same could not be said for Poppy. Her tears flowed down her face almost in testament to how horrible this event sounded. Her hand was no longer rubbing circles on his back but had made its way to his right shoulder, leaving the two in a sort of half hug.

"My father rushed up the stairs and into my room when he heard me scream. The mongrel was about to pounce again so my father threw himself between us. My mother, who had come running with my father, was able to take the creature down, bu-" Logan choked as the tears finally fell. "But not before its savage fangs stole my father's life before our very eyes!" At this point, Logan dove to embrace Poppy, as though he were sinking, and she was the only lifeline, and she reciprocated the embrace wishing more than anything that she could take his pain away. They stayed that way for a long time, Poppy trying to give as much comfort as possible as Logan dealt with the emotional torrent of having told the entire story out loud for the first time.

They were each silently grateful that the other Hufflepuff students had all gone to bed before they returned from their little quest. This was something that needed to happen and an audience would have made it very difficult to work through this; maybe even prevented this from happening. Not ready to let go of his lifeline just yet, Logan decided to finish his story from within the safety of Poppy's arms. "Mother and I moved to London as soon as we could. We eventually heard from one of my mother's friends that a paper trail concerning the purchase of a Dark Mongrel and a magical handwriting comparison had pinned one of the local pure-bloods as the mastermind of the plan. We were glad to know he would be punished for his actions, but it did nothing to numb the pain of losing Father. That's why I joined Crossed Wands. I needed to be sure that I would be able to protect myself and others when the time came. I wouldn't allow anyone to sacrifice themselves for me again." Despite the fact that she could tell he was still crying, Logan's voice conveyed as much conviction as she had ever heard in her life.

She squeezed herself as close to him as physically possible and whispered to him. "I am so sorry. No one should ever have to go through what you have. I understand your resolve, but please, -" Poppy realized that what she was about to say could jeopardize the close friendship they had built, but if she didn't say it now, she wasn't sure she would ever have the courage to later, "- in your efforts to be the protector, don't put yourself in unnecessary risk. Let us help protect you, and you can protect us in kind. Promise me you won't forsake our help for our safety."

Logan backed up so that he could look her in the eyes. They held so much raw emotion in their captivating pools of soft brown. "But if it comes down to it, I will always put someone else before my own life." Her grip on his shoulders tightened and he noticed her eyes change. He couldn't quite name what emotions he saw in her eyes before, but he certainly could name this one; for whatever reason, he had just made Poppy mad.

"Would you knock that off!? It's all well and good to want to protect others, but don't you go throwing your life away!" Poppy, if in a calmer mind, would have known there was a better way to do this, to convince him that his life mattered. Was she in said calmer mind? No, no she was not. "Do you have any idea the impact you have made here? Any clue whatsoever as to how important you are to your friends? Don't you realize that we care for and love you? That I love you? Don't you care that I would be heartbroken if you were to die? Besides- "

Poppy continued her lecture to Logan with what he was sure were convincing points, which made it unfortunate that he couldn't hear a single word. His mind had zeroed in on three words Poppy had said and refused to think about anything else. She had said she loved him. She had said that his friends all cared for him, yes, but then she singled herself out and said she loved him. Though his mind was also hesitant. "What if she isn't thinking about what she's saying? What if I am reading into this beyond what she meant?" Logan quickly banished those thoughts, because if that was the case, then he was about to do something incredibly stupid. He couldn't stop himself. The chance that he did understand what she was saying, the smallest chance that she felt the same way about him as he felt about her, it was far too perfect to pass up.

Poppy (not realizing exactly what she'd said) worried if she had gone too far in her rebuke. Logan was sitting there, not saying anything, just looking at her. She was about to call his name in an attempt to bring him back to reality when he leaned forward. Watching him get closer, Poppy thought of all the times she'd imagined him kissing her. Each time she had woken up to the disappointing truth that it was a fantasy, but as her lips were met by his she realized this was not her imagination. And that fact was enough for her brain to shut off. Luckily for the two, this moment was more about instinct than thought. Her arms wrapped around his neck comfortably and her fingers found their way to his hair. His own arms had found themselves unable to stay still either, with his left reaching across her shoulders and his right landing naturally on her hip. It's hard to know how long they stayed like that, but they were eventually forced to separate due to that pesky little need for oxygen. Even still, while the kiss had ended, they didn't release each other, instead holding to each other as if they might together have the strength to hold time still and let this moment continue forever. Once Logan had enough air in his lungs, he asked the big question. "If that was unwelcome or unwarranted, then I am sorry. But I have had feelings for you for a while now and need to know for sure; Do you love me?"

Thank Merlin, whatever had led them to this situation had not abandoned her to flounder on her own. One last push of instinct led her to look deep into his eyes, smile, and say, "Why don't you try that again and find out?" The smile he returned will always remain one of her favorite memories. While the first kiss had a sort of hesitancy in it that slowly seemed to dissipate, this second kiss held a steady fire of assurance the whole time.

At least it had until Eldritch Diggory coughed from his portrait on the wall about seven or so meters away. Both students began blushing profusely and released each other (though neither felt any desire to back away from the other. "Apologies, my young friends but while this was quite the adorable sight, I felt the need to remind you of two things; One), that this common room isn't quite as private as you might think, and two), that it is important you both rest before tomorrow's classes." The interruption and advice from the former Minister of Magic were irritating but of sound logic. Logan walked Poppy to the bottom of the stairs. He would have walked her to her door were it not for the fact that the stairs were enchanted to tilt and drop any boy who tried climbing them. Poppy began climbing the stairs before Logan called to her. "Poppy?" She looked back expectantly. "Tomorrow, after classes, would you like to join me at the Three Broomsticks for a mug of butterbeer?" Logan asked, praying she'd say yes. Poppy smiled wide and stepped back down to where he was standing. "I would like that very much." she said in a low yet pleased tone. She pecked him on the lips once more and resumed climbing the stairs.

"After all," she said over her shoulder, "we probably ought to have at least one official date before the others find out." With that final note, she disappeared from view. Logan walked through the opening between the two staircases towards his room. "Oh man." he thought. "Sebastian and Ominus are going to haze me about this for weeks."