"Hermione, have you got those files -"

Poppy stood in the doorway, staring at them. Hermione and Harry quickly disentangled themselves, both adopting the expression of a startled deer. Harry's head was swimming, and his brain felt oddly numb, and from the looks of it, Hermione felt the same.

"Well," Poppy said, breaking the silence. "I see you've been working hard."

"No - Poppy - it's not like that -" Hermione jumped up from Harry's lap, much to his disappointment. "I've got a difficult situation going on at home -"

"Ah, I see," Poppy replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So you decided to bring some random guy to work and shag him."

Harry wasn't sure what to focus on: the fact that Poppy hadn't realised who he was, or the fact that she thought they were going to shag. That was a fairly intimidating thought, actually. He lost himself in his musings as Hermione defended herself.

"I was not going to have sex with Harry! It was one kiss - it lasted for about five seconds -"

"Didn't you just break up with your boyfriend?" Poppy inquired, arms folded across her chest.

Hermione spluttered. "That has nothing to do with anything - it's not your business -"

"When you bring it into my work, you make it my business," Poppy told her, her face fiery. "I mean are you committed to your work? Are you committed to -"

"She's committed to having as good a life as she can," Harry interjected. "As she should be. She deserves it."

Poppy looked at him, her long ginger hair wild and her blue eyes narrowed, and scowled until her eyes travelled to the scar, faint but still visible, on his temple. Her mouth widened in shock as she seemed to scramble for things to say.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said quietly, "but I can fight my own battles."

He looked at her and his face fell. "I know - I didn't mean-"

"I know." Hermione smiled slightly at him and put her hand on his arm. "I know."

Poppy made a noise of frustration. "Hermione, this is completely inappropriate!"

"Oh yes, I touched his arm," Hermione spat sarcastically. "At this rate, I'll be bent over a desk within the next five minutes."

Harry suddenly found himself very interested in one particular patch on the wall, and proceeded to stare at it intently while the two women continued with their argument.

"It's not about the arm! It's about this entire situation! How dare you – when we have things to get done –"

"You want to talk about that?" Hermione yelled. "You want to talk about morals? Okay, well maybe we'd get more done if you didn't give yourself such a big fat pay check every month when we're struggling to bring in donations!"

Poppy's eyes seemed to bulge. "I do a lot of work! It's not unreasonable – I have three kids! Just because you don't live in the real world –"

"If that was true your kids would be dead!" Hermione countered, and a sudden heavy silence fell upon the room.

It was strange, Harry thought, how even the mention of the war seemed to make people choke on their words – even Draco, who was usually so outspoken on everything, clammed up when the topic came up. He supposed that was fair – Draco had, after all, been on the wrong side, and continued to pay the price every day – but it was suffocating, not being able to talk to anyone about it.

"You can't keep playing the war card," Poppy said quietly, her eyes full of anger. "Learn to grow up."

Hermione sighed and dropped her face in her hands briefly. "Harry, I have another meeting in about five minutes, but I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for everything."

Harry recognised the dismissal and walked back into the lobby, smiling at the receptionist on his way out. The air was cold and had a biting chill to it, making Harry wish he had thought about warmth when picking his clothing options. He made his way slowly down Diagon Alley, turning the morning's events over and over in his mind.

"Harry!"

Harry looked up to just about realise Mrs Weasley was running towards him before he was pulled into a hug. He could smell the familiar scent of perfume and a mixture of cooking smells before she released him and beamed at him. "What a coincidence! Happy Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Mrs Weasley," Harry replied with a smile.

"Oh, dear, don't you think you're a bit old to be calling me Mrs Weasley still?" Mrs Weasley scolded.

"Sorry, Molly," Harry said sheepishly. "What are you doing in Diagon Alley?"

"I've actually just come back from meeting friends," Mrs Weasley answered. "I was just about to get lunch. Care to join me?" Perhaps seeing the look of hesitancy on Harry's face, she added, "I have some things to talk to you about."

Harry's insides squirmed at the thought, but he nonetheless allowed himself to be taken to a nearby fish and chips shop, partly due to the rumbling of his stomach.

"Now, dear," Molly said, taking a seat at a small, wooden table, "Have you been to see that mind healer we talked about?"

"No," Harry admitted. "Just some chips, please," he added to the slightly-grumpy looking waitress who had appeared to take their order.

"Harry," Molly tutted. "Cod and chips for me, dear, and would you bring us some tartar sauce? Thank you so much. Now," she turned back to Harry with a stern face, "Why have you not been to see a healer? They could help you so much, you know. You're all over the Prophet – no job – no girlfriend –"

"Thanks, Molly," Harry interrupted with a cheeky grin. "But I really don't think a mind healer is the best route to go down. I don't want someone staring at the scar on my forehead, and I don't want to spill everything to someone who's probably going to sell my story to the Prophet."

Molly's eyes were full of sympathy. "I understand your concerns – but Harry – you can't keep on going on like this. You, of all people, deserve to enjoy yourself in your twenties."

Harry gave her a weak smile. "You still think that?"

Molly seemed affronted. "Of course! You're like one of the family, Harry. I'm not going to let silly business with my children get in the way."

"You heard," Harry clarified.

"Of course," Molly said fondly, "It was all the children could talk about! I know you had that business with Ginny – and that doesn't change my opinion of you – but Harry," she said, leaning towards him, "don't you think it would be better to let Hermione and Ron sort through their issues?"

Harry stared at her blankly. "Certainly – but I –"

"I mean," Mrs Weasley continued, full steam ahead, "I thought that with you and Ginny, and Hermione and Ron, we'd all end up being part of the family! Now Ginny's a good girl, and you've still got Ron to bind you to the family – but I can't imagine you getting through this if the two of them split up! I mean, how are you going to manage Christmas Eve tomorrow? With those two fighting and you and Ron fighting…"

"Mrs Weasley, I don't think me and Hermione are going to be able to make Christmas," Harry told her. Her jaw dropped open just as the waitress arrived with two plates with steaming, golden, crispy chips.

Harry's mouth watered and he dug in while he waited for Mrs Weasley to digest the news.

"Call me Molly," she eventually said in a hoarse voice, after several minutes of silence. Harry cracked a smile at her priorities. "But dear – what are you doing for Christmas?"

"Hermione, Draco and I are going to spend Christmas together," Harry answered, shaking salt over his chips.

"Harry." Mrs Weasley sounded gobsmacked. "Do you have any idea what that would do? What sort of message that would send out? For Hermione to spend Christmas with you would be like her picking you over Ron!"

Harry shrugged. "They've already broken up, Mrs Weas- Molly. Hermione and I are best friends – always have been – and we have never given Ron any reason to think Hermione is unfaithful." His stomach gave a guilty twinge, remembering the kiss earlier, but he pressed on regardless. "We aren't doing anything wrong, and if Ron thinks from our point of view, he shouldn't have a problem with it."

Molly nodded. "I can see that, dear, and I'm not going to try and change your mind. But if you are going forward with that, invite other people, too. Think of Hermione."

"I have no friends that aren't your children, Molly," Harry joked.

"No! Look, you're in your twenties, it's time to have Christmas with your friends. Neville and Luna will come down, I'm sure of it. And they are such a lovely couple."

"They are," Harry agreed. "I'll send them an owl tonight."

"Best use the Express post owls, to make sure they get the invitation in time," Molly told him, using a chip to mop up the last of her sauce. "Now, dear, even if you're not coming for Christmas – pop in now and then. Arthur has some new muggle things to show you, and you're looking dangerously skinny."

Harry laughed.

AN: I'm sorry for not updating quickly! And I'm sorry if this chapter isn't as good as the rest – I got a scene stuck in my head and had difficulty finishing it off. Thank you so much for all the reviews and follows, let me know if you like this chapter, or how I can improve! Happy New Year