She licked her chapped lips as she turned to face her new intern. She didn't much like having an intern, especially one that hovered as much as this one did. It made her nervous. It didn't help that she kept forgetting his name. He looked a lot like a Simon, but she was pretty sure his name was Thorin or Ciro or something equally as stupid. Was Ignacio a name? It could have been that. She checked her watch. She'd only have to talk to him for fifteen more minutes before she was free to go to James' Quidditch game.
"Remind me your name again?" She asked the gangly boy hovering over her shoulder.
"Sylvester." He answered her for the umpteenth time today with only a hint of attitude. She was not a fan of attitude. It didn't help that he had already told her he couldn't quite remember what chromatin was.
"That's a cat's name." She told him absentmindedly, adding topoisomerase I to keep the DNA relaxed.
"I know Branwell assigned you here, but how much do you know about posttranslational modification?" She asked Sylvester the cat.
"Uh, I mean I know a bit." He hummed, drumming his hands on his corduroy pants. She thought about when she was a lowly intern (less than a week ago) and softened her tone. She could tell him later that corduroy was never suitable in this sort of work place.
"If I say histone acetylation and deacetylation, what do you think of?" She asked him in a strained attempt at a kindly voice. He shrugged.
"I'll be honest, I really don't know much about what you're going on about." He answered with a shy smile.
"That's okay. We'll get you caught up. How do you feel about spaghetti?" She asked him. He seemed taken aback immediately.
"Oh Merlin, I'm not asking you out." Poppi rolled her own eyes. Gangly little shit thinking he was that alluring.
"Uh, okay, well I eat it." He muttered bewildered.
"Excellent. Okay, the DNA is like the noodles of the spaghetti. The histone proteins–there's eight of them–are like the meatballs. Say you like to eat your meatballs and spaghetti at the same time because you're efficient like that. So you'll take your fork and wrap your DNA noodles around your histone meatballs. Now the noodles are shorter because most of the noodle is wrapped around the meatball. The more spooled the DNA noodles are around the histone meatballs, the better you can fit the entire genome of spaghetti on the plate. Now that we only have the little tail ends of the spaghetti left sticking off the meatball, that's the part we can modify. We could add some parmesan to it, if you'd like. The parmesan sticks to that part of the noodle because it's the part that is exposed and available for some good cheesing."
"Uh. Okay." He murmured.
"So basically the acetylation, which is the first posttranslational modification of the spaghetti tail is what we are looking at and it occurs on the N-terminal amino groups and on the the lysine ε-amino groups. By tomorrow I want you to read my source papers here so we can have a semi-intelligent conversation about all of this. Trust me, it'll take weeks to completely absorb it." She handed him a stack of papers to read by reputable authors, including reviews (which save lives).
She bade him goodbye before he could ask her any questions, hurrying out of her shiny new office as fast as she could.
"Poppi!" Her ears perked at her name, surprised not just that it was coming from the mouth of Harry Potter, but that it was in such a scolding tone.
"Yes?" She asked bewildered slowing her pace as she approached Harry and Branwell. Harry was still dressed in his Auror robes so he must have only just gotten off work.
"Poppi! Why didn't you say anything about your promotion?" Harry asked sounding slightly hurt.
"The less people that know about it, the better!" She laughed, hoping to lighten that hurt in his voice. She didn't mean anything by not telling them. Harry conceded with a nod but still chastised her the entire way to the Ministry fireplaces. They dashed floo powder into the grate and stopped by the Potter Manor to change for the big game.
She ran upstairs to the guest room where Ginny laid out a Puddlemere jersey and denim shorts she must have grabbed from her closet at James' flat. She smeared the blue and gold face paint that Ginny had left out for her across her cheeks, looking thoroughly spirited. People would mistake her for an actual quidditch fan if they didn't ask too many questions!
She met Harry at the stairwell covered in almost identical garb, down to the POTTER 06 jersey. She laughed and smeared gold and blue streaks across Harry's face as well, determined to not be the only person to look like a fool.
Harry and Poppi were escorted into a V.I.P. box that was decked out in Puddlemere blue by a very surly looking man with muscles as big as her entire body. Poppi liked the very surly looking man because even though she could see several people with cameras facing her way, she didn't see a single flash. He was very intimidating. She shielded her eyes for a moment to adjust to all the blue and tensed when she saw a fiery redhead sprinting full speed ahead at them.
"Brace yourself." Harry murmured and so she did her best to steel herself.
The redhead flung herself on Poppi, knocking them both straight to the ground with a miserably hard thud. She blinked a few times, stars dancing across her vision. The first time she meets James' baby sister and she's probably got a mild concussion. Brilliant.
"Oh! Poppi! It's so good to finally meet you!" She squealed with her brown eyes glimmering.
"You must be Lily!" Poppi laughed, gasping for air. Lily hopped up quickly and pulled her up. Poppi dusted herself off.
"I've heard so much about you!" Lily told her, guiding her to her seat. She sat between Ginny and Lily, Harry giving her a very sympathetic look before taking his wife's other side.
Lily opened her mouth to speak to Poppi, a question at the tip of her tongue when suddenly a roar from the crowd shook the metal chairs and the entire stadium quaked with the stomping. A whir of blue flew out, circling the pitch with whoops of determination and fists to the air.
Fervent chanting broke out from not only the stadium, but also in the posh seeming box and even Poppi found herself hollering along with the crowd.
"Beat Back Those Bludgers, Boys, and Chuck That Quaffle Here."
Mentally she rolled her eyes at the boys line because there were women on the team, but she chanted along anyway. James flew by the box and blew her a kiss followed by a smirk that was magnified by the QuaffleTron, causing the crowd to cheer obnoxiously. Poppi waved awkwardly at him, plotting the various ways she would murder him later. That was intentional. She was still dodging him about the date and he kept wanting to talk about it. Bloody emotional creature. Do you have any idea how hard it is to dodge someone when you're living together? Very.
"I can see it now, a spring wedding would be lovely." Ginny murmured with a happy sigh causing Poppi to snort aloud.
"Don't encourage that!" Harry hissed.
"Why not?" Ginny whipped to him, face heated in an accusatory tone.
"Because I bet both of the boys if they got married before 25 I'd buy them a house."
"You did what?" Ginny gasped.
"Well you saw how gangly they were in their Hogwarts days! How was I supposed to know he'd become...well...James?" Harry grumbled.
Ginny shook her head in what could only be described as utter dismay.
"I think we're still good on the Albus front though, don't you think? I'm still not convinced there isn't something going on between him and that Malfoy boy though." Harry added contemplatively.
Ginny downed a pint of warm beer, no longer listening to her husband who will still musing loudly about whether Scorpius Malfoy would make a good son-in-law. The verdict was maybe, but his father was a blast-ended skrewt on polyjuice potion to mask his skrewtness.
The quaffle was in the air and players were zooming around in a blur of Puddlemere navy and Kenmare emerald. James was hovering between the left and center hoop, eyes sharply focused on the quaffle. A Kenmare fellow, Zabini, swooshed through a crowd of pushy Puddlemere players with the quaffle tucked safely under his arm. He pulled his elbow back before thrusting it forward, propelling the quaffle toward the goal with all his might. Poppi held her breath and squeezed Ginny's hand, terrified James would get smashed in the face with the rather heavy looking ball. James, with the reflexes one would expect from a professional quidditch player, caught the quaffle with ease.
"Yeah James! Do the hoop stuff!" Poppi jumped up with the crowd, screaming in joy. Lily doubled over in laughter.
"Do the hoop stuff? Really?" She asked, clutching her side. Poppi shrugged, not taking her eyes off James. He played well, no potential injuries to Poppi's relief. Amadeus did take a bludger to the head, but he was fine after a few moments of heavy blinking. He must be made of iron to be able to take a bludger like that and be fine.
Part of her wished there was more suspense toward the end of the game, but Puddlemere was up by 280 points when a nimble girl with a ravishing pixie cut caught the snitch.
The moment the snitch was caught, the entire Potter family roared with joy before hurrying out of their seats, Poppi tagging along behind Lily. She would have liked a moment or two longer to roar, but she followed anyway. They filed down the aluminum stairs and were escorted by the very surly man that Poppi had decided she liked to the Puddlemere locker rooms. Harry leaned against the wall while Ginny gave play-by-play replay commentary on how excellent James was. Lily was grinning like a loon.
She was happy that James had the kind of family that didn't miss his games and were so full of pride for his accomplishments. Not everyone had that. It was really nice to her how proud Ginny was of James. Harry was too, of course, but that beaming, motherly tenacity that emanated from her words as she praised him filled Poppi with a bubbling sense of both joy and sadness. She'd never have that again.
"This is my favorite part." Lily whispered to her when Ginny and Harry discussed in depth a save James made that lead to an immediate turnaround score for Puddlemere.
"Your parents analyzing every play?" Poppi asked her with a twitch of her eyebrow.
"No, the gorgeous Quidditch boys about to run out of that room." She sighed dreamily.
They both broke into giggles as the door swung open and sure enough, gorgeous Quidditch boys emerged, dripping with water and smelling like heaven.
James walked out, a smirk plainly plastered on his face, and scooped Poppi up with a kiss on the forehead. She turned a vivid shade of pink, mildly embarrassed by Ginny's awes and Harry complaining about the housing market.
"Thank Merlin you've showered." She commented, still a shade of pink. She hadn't expected him to shower so quickly in the locker room. His smirk remained.
"That was by far the best game I've played yet, don't you think?" James asked his mother.
Ginny started her rant on how excellent his save was all over again. Poppi smiling. There was this feeling though, even with James' obvious affections, of being an outsider. She rubbed her cheek, smearing the crumbling paint on her cheek on her hand.
Amadeus, with his shining bright eyes and dripping hair came out of the locker room with a beaming smile. He smacked James on the back with a hard thump before greeting the rest of the family.
Amadeus, James, Poppi, Lily, Ginny, and Harry all apparated together to a place that Lily informed her was the Burrow. It was a wonderful house just on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon. It had teetering stories that defied physics with the help of magic. It had only recently been remodeled and the exterior had a brand new coat of lustrous maroon paint to greet them. At the end of the very long cobblestone walkway was a greying ginger woman with an oversized knit sweater in Puddlemere colors jumping about and waving excitedly.
"JAMES! Well done, oh well done James!" The woman, which Lily informed her was Nana Molly, chirped, pulling James into a tight squeeze. She went down the row, squeezing everyone one by one. She told Amadeus that he was far too thin and he must be famished.
When Nana Molly reached Poppi, she squealed in delight. "Oh, Poppi! It's so wonderful to finally meet you! We were just debating on whether or not you actually exist or if this was like the one time when James–"
"Ahem, Nana, I think Poppi is absolutely starving. Aren't you Poppi?" James cut off his Nana. She was quite curious what the one time was but she graciously allowed James that one.
"Absolutely starved." She nodded, rubbing her belly.
"Oh, of course you are, and so skinny too! Don't worry, we'll feed you right up!" Molly ushered her into the house. It was a lovely house, full of picture frames dashing about with her kids and grandkids cheesing for the camera.
The living room was packed full of fiery red hair in the cozy space. The moment she entered the room, she was pulled from family member to family and hugged and talked to. She felt that overwhelming urge again to sprint out of there like she was on fire. She felt that way when she had to meet the entirety of James' friends at that awful thing at that awful restaurant. As Hermione Granger Weasley was telling her about the latest law she had passed, Poppi stared at the terrifying clock hanging on the wall. It had nine hands, each with the names of family members she had just met. Save for one of the hands, they all pointed toward home. The other hand, labelled Fred, was stuck awkwardly between Lost and Mortal Peril, bouncing between the two.
"Alright, Poppi, you've met all of my family. When will I meet yours?" James asked loudly after a few drinks supplied by his grandfather, Arthur. She was wedged uncomfortably between James and Amadeus on the loveseat and couldn't breathe properly.
"Oh." Poppi wasn't sure she wanted to have this discussion in front of the entire family. It was her fault for not telling him sooner though. James stared at her confused.
"Well there's no one left for you to meet." Poppi answered carefully. James still looked confused but Ginny understood immediately.
"What?" James asked, knitting his eyebrows together.
"James–" Ginny warned him.
"No, it's okay." Poppi decided. This man had shared every last unnerving detail of his life with her, she might as well do the same.
"My mum, Camille was her name, was a healer and only child. She met my dad at a party at a pub right after she graduated training. I don't think she ever bothered to look for him again after that night." She began. Her eyes were already a bit glossy, but she was fine, lumpy throat and all.
The entire room was quiet save for the hum of the phonograph in the corner humming out Celestina Warbeck hits. No one was laughing or joking or poking each other. She hated the silence. James seemed abashed. She could see the regret of asking in his eyes so I smiled reassuringly.
"In my fifth year, she started working with Healers without Borders. She loved her assignment. She was trying to heal patients with a virus that wipes out their immune system's defense. Over a million people die every year from it."
"Poppi, you don't have to–" James interrupted her, his cheeks bright red.
"She was a bit careless in the lab. It was an accident, but she should have known better. She dropped a vial of blood she was testing. It shattered. When she tried to clean it, she cut her hand. One small nick was all it took to kill my mother." The frosted tone of voice wasn't one she used commonly and it surprised even her.
"Wow." Albus muttered. Lily put her hand on her back, standing behind the loveseat.
"The virus took her before she saw me graduate Hogwarts. The thing that she would have hated the most though, was the media. Millions of people dying from this disease every single year, but one European healer dying from it and suddenly the press was painting her as a martyr for the people. Well, she wouldn't hate that because at least it raised awareness, but I certainly did." She laughed humorlessly.
"I'm so sorry, Poppi," James said quietly.
"It's okay. She totally would have loved you though. She was a sucker for dorky guys. Always trying to pick out my future husband. Do you lot know that Jamesy here has a massive secret comic book collection under his bed?" Poppi smiled. She meant the smile too. She was okay. No matter what, she'd be okay. She always was.
"Damn it Poppi! I told you that in confidence!" He chuckled. The entire room roared with laughter and suddenly his cousins were bombarding him with taunts.
The air was a bit thick all the same and Poppi already couldn't breathe while shoved between the two bulky quidditch boys. Poppi worked her way across the room to the back door, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful garden that James had told her so much about.
"Do you think you're special? That you mean something to him? Girls like you are a dime a dozen. He doesn't give a damn about your sob story either, so stop trying to manipulate him."
Poppi glanced up in surprise, connecting the voice to the fiery redhead that she was sure was Rose. Rose was advancing in on her in a rather intimidating manner, practically pinning her to the corner. The buzz of the room began to die down again and Poppi's stomach dropped to the floor.
"What are you talking about?" Poppi asked once she regained her voice. Some small redhead wasn't going to speak to her like that.
"Jillian Myers, Rachelle Hamburg, Elizabeth Reeves, Laura Walsh, Kelsey O'Donnell, Samantha Peterson, Mollie Bohannon, and Eva Whitworth. Those are the girls that James has bothered to bring home this year alone. Can you imagine how many girls he didn't bring 'round the family?" It stung. She knew it stung because she smirked. Poppi didn't understand why the actual fuck this girl, James' own cousin, was acting so cruel.
"You're coming off as a bit jealous, you know that? I mean I understand that your family was Pureblood until recently, but maybe don't let it show so much?" Poppi spat back.
Rose pulled her hand back and Poppi braced herself for the impact of the hit. Eyes shut tight, planning whether she'd tackle her to the floor and knock her teeth out or hex her into oblivion, she realized the hit never came. She peeled one eye open to Albus holding Rose's wrist in a tight grip. The grip was so tight that the area around his fingers were bright red, then completely white.
"Fuck off, Rose." Albus snarled. Rose looked in shock, completely taken aback. Poppi was sure she looked exactly the same.
Poppi's eyes were blurring with tears and she counted to five to calm herself down. She glanced around the packed room. The conversation that was humming along had stopped completely. Molly, Ginny, and Lily were wearing the same gobsmacked look. Harry was blinking slowly, as was James.
Albus put an arm around her shoulder and guided her to the kitchen, leaving Rose in a room full of her family. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling of the kitchen and The Witching Hour was humming quietly from a radio on top of a stack of oddly named cookbooks that Poppi had never read. Charm Your Own Cheese didn't sound like a bad one though. If things were different she would have asked to borrow it.
Albus twitched his fingers and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but promptly changed his mind and put on a kettle. Poppi snorted.
"You're joking, right?"
"I never joke about tea." He told her solemnly. Poppi's eyes were still glossy, but she smiled anyway. James' thunderous voice resonated through the house, shaking the pots and pans hanging above her head. She could hear the anger seething in his voice but couldn't quite make out the words. She wasn't sure she wanted to anyway.
"I don't understand why she has a problem with me." Poppi finally said over the reverberation of James' voice. It felt good to say. Like spitting out overcooked food.
"It's a long story." Albus told her, smacking two tea cups on the marble counter.
She stayed silent, waiting for some sort of explanation.
"Fine. Well, long story short Eva and Rose were friends."
"So she's mad at me that it didn't work out between them?" Poppi asked in disbelief. That was hardly fair.
"Eva has more or less cut her out of her life." Albus sounded more exhausted than anything.
"That has nothing to do with me." Poppi repeated.
"I know that. I'm not saying it's your fault. She's just a bit mad in the head, y'know? Always been like that. She's completely batshit."
The kettle whistled and her head suddenly was throbbing. She just wanted to crawl into her bed. Her own bed with her own navy sheets and floral bedding. Not James' guest room, all museum and no life.
Albus poured a cup of tea for her and sat down across from her. She thought, if only for a moment, that Albus was in fact quite handsome. He was handsome in a very different way than James though. Where James was the natural athlete, the traditionally handsome kind of guy, Albus was the kind of guy that seemed to thrive on intellectual conversations. He was more broodingly handsome, but he was also very warm like his mother.
"He really likes you, you know. Like really, really likes you. Honestly, he's getting a bit annoying about it." Albus told her with a wicked grin. Poppi gave him a faint smile.
"I like him too, Al. I do. I just think this is all too much for me right now. He's too fast for me. His life is too wild for me. It's all just too much." She told him with a heavy sigh.
"Imagine how he feels," Al said without any trace of humor in his voice.
"I am, Al. I am." She pushed herself up from the barstool she was sitting at, determined to get away from the Burrow.
"Hey, where are you going? Rose was being an utter idiot." James pushed his way in front of her as she made a beeline for the door.
"James." She whispered his name with uncertainty.
"Yeah?" He smiled at her, his nose nearly touching hers. In this moment there was nothing she didn't want to see more than him smiling down at her like that.
"I think I'm going back to my own flat." She blurted out. It wasn't as calloused as it could have been, but it wasn't the gentle tone she had meant for.
"You're–Wait. What?" He asked confused. The loving look washed from his face and instead confusion took its place.
"I think the publicity has died down. No one has even bothered my at work for a few days. I just would feel better if I could be back in my own bed."
"Is this about Rose?" He asked angrily. She had to admit, if only to herself, that Rose certainly shattered the fairytale feeling that had been culminating.
"No. It's just that I think I'm becoming a bit too dependent on your family and I need my own space." She told him, not meeting his eyes. She pushed past him, a fleeting glance at Ginny, who she'd miss the most, before pushing out the door. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she disapparated.
A/N: The spaghetti thing got a little out of control. Sorry for the science. But not really. SO I haven't properly edited this (just a quick read through) but it's been over a month since I've updated so I'll edit this properly in the morning when I'm not completely exhausted. The entire Burrow incident and moving out was not planned and was part of a rewrite. Please know that this is the chapter I intended to end the story when I originally wrote it! I'd say we're about halfway there now! WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO POPPI AND JAMES? WILL THEY MAKE IT? Who knows. Seriously. Who knows?
