Had it really happened? Had she actually told her brother, Stewart, and Alastor the truth four days ago? Had Alastor come to see her with Minerva? Had they really planned to undermine Aurelius? Had Alastor really held her in his arms, consoling her, reassuring her that things would somehow be righted, that he loved her still, always and forever? Could it have been a dream manifested from her deepest longings?

She glanced at the group photograph that sat in a place of prominence atop her desk, in that small and cozy office of hers on the fourth floor within St. Mungo's. She stared at the picture, pretty much sure now that everything had indeed happened, as her photographic self had moved back towards the group somewhat, even if she looked pale and jittery still. She also noticed Alastor was standing almost directly behind her in the photograph. Poppy traced their two figures, a tiny smile on her face.

However, as she thought of the plan, she bit her lip and frowned a little. She was still very uneasy about it. There were so many things that could go wrong and she didn't want her friends put in such danger on her account. In her mind, there were so many holes in the plan that it looked ready to fold over like Swiss cheese.

She shook her head, refusing to think on it at the moment. She would go about her work and leave matters until she returned home. Nodding to herself, she went to her desk and picked up the files on the patients in her wards, checking to see if there had been any signs of improvement in their reports. Scanning down the parchment sheets, she pursed her lips and rested her cheek against her hand, her arm propped up on her desk.

There was a knock at her door then. "Come in," she called, not lifting her eyes from the pages before her. The door opened and closed. No words of greeting were said, causing Poppy to frown and glance up from her reading. She lifted her eyes to find a strange man standing just inside her room. He had the most vivid green eyes she'd ever seen, sleek ravens colored hair, and very angular features.

"Can I help you?" She asked, setting the files on her desk before she got to her feet. The man smiled and moved further in the room, his eyes never leaving hers. Poppy stood quietly, resisting the impulse to frown even in the slightest. She felt like she knew him from somewhere, but she'd never seen him before. There was something about him... something so very familiar to her.

He stood straight and tall, the posture one of arrogance. She knew that posture. "Good day, Poppy. Busy day? How are things at Fernside?" He asked, a lazy smile on his face, as he spoke in a very rich Irish accent. Poppy stared at him. Who was this man? Why was he so familiar to her? She sensed so many things about him, resonances that didn't quite register in her mind.

The room was suddenly deadly quiet, as if someone had shut off all manner of sound. "Excuse me?" She breathed, her mouth suddenly very dry. He laughed, pivoting to move to her desk, spotting the group photograph on her desk. As he did that, as he picked up the frame in his hands, she got that deja vu feeling. That was the same way...

"Aurelius..." she gasped, backing away unconsciously, knocking into her chair as she did so. He laughed again, his voice still musical. "You're a sharp one aren't you? I admit I underestimated you. What gave me away?" He asked genially, leaning his weight on one leg.

She wasn't about to bring attention to her Empathic abilities, even if he might know that already, she wouldn't be bringing it up. "The way you moved," was all she could think to say, knowing it was only partly true. He nodded thoughtfully, pursing his lips. "Then you're more observant than I thought, Poppy. I'm flattered." He stared back at her arrogantly, those green eyes that were not his, flashing.

He moved toward her then, and as she'd already moved back as far as she could go without bumping into her bookshelf, she stayed where she was. "A colleague of mine allowed me the use of his appearance and his voice for the day. Polyjuice works wonders, you know." He commented, leaning in close to taste the sweet nectar of her lips. He sighed, kissing her temple, inhaling her scent. "How is it that you always smell of apples and apricots?" He asked silkily, tracing the line of her jaw.

Funny, she thought she was bathed in the stench of fear. It coated her, permeating her skin to course deep within her, like a disease. However, she kept herself as still and as patient as she could. It was killing her. He knew it, too. "How was that visit with my brother? Come to kiss and make up from your lover's quarrel?" He inquired, that Irish accent he'd borrowed taking on a flinty edge.

The heat rose from within her. If she weren't so worried about what he could do to those she loved, she'd have longed to give him a what for. For the pain he'd caused not only her, but also Alastor. Making it impossible for them to be together. For turning her own home and precious objects against her. She thought of the charm he'd placed on her necklace, the poppy flower pendant that Alastor had given to her on her sixteenth birthday. She thought of how he'd managed to use such a precious gift against her, robbing her of privacy and security and tarnishing the gift with his touch and foul intentions.

However, for the moment she made no comment and continued to focus her eyes steadily on his, giving away nothing. "What is it that you want from me? I've told no one. I didn't even hear anything in the first place, that day in the alley. If you hadn't had killed Rory, if you'd just left me alone, you'd have nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. I'd have had nothing to tell." Poppy spoke, surprised by the calmness in her voice, and surprised that she'd even asked. She'd probably just signed away the lives of her friends in that direct confrontation.

Aurelius paused, considering her question. He even tilted his head back, musing to himself. "Well, for one my dear, I couldn't have known how much you'd heard and secondly," he leaned in close, whispering into her ear, "did I even need a reason? You should know by now, my dear, that I do so adore my little games and frankly, you've intrigued me for years. That day in the alley, a perfect opportunity was handed to me. You were handed to me on a silver platter. Who am I to refuse such an offer?" He appealed to her, kissing the tips of her ears, his lips moving along the line of her jaw to her neck. "I hardly need mention that when you were handed to me, so was my brother and all your annoyingly good friends." He added, as an afterthought.

She felt the bile rise in her throat, but pushed it back down. How could he do that? With such candor say such things to her? Do the things he did? How is it that some people could have no conscience, no remorse, no humanity? She couldn't comprehend such evil, such depravity. A wave of nausea assaulted her again. It was churning within her. Soon that nausea, combined with the lightheaded dizziness she felt, was going to cause her to faint.

There was a knock at the door then, bringing her back to her senses and alertness. Aurelius moved with such celerity, to stand by her desk, calm and composed, if you please. There was another knock. Poppy blinked, shifting her eyes from the door to him. He smiled a Cheshire cat smile. "Poppy, open the door. Such poor hospitality. Quite rude, if you ask me." He chastised her, that Irish accent musical once more. She stood where she was, wondering if there was some way out of this, perhaps if she...

It was too late, the door swung open and her fellow Empathic healer, Theodosia, stepped inside smiling. "So you're here, old girl. I was beginning to think you weren't in your office-" she stopped short, her eyes flickering from Poppy to Aurelius. "Have I interrupted something?" She asked, apologetically. "No, hardly," Poppy managed to respond, her heart beating quicker than quick. She grasped her hands behind her, so that none would notice the slight tremble in them.

"Poppy, is this a friend of yours?" Theodosia asked with polite curiosity, her eyes on Aurelius, holding her clipboard at her side. Aurelius simply smiled and stared back at her, his eyes moving up her petite frame, taking in her blue eyes and chestnut brown hair, which was kept short and bobbed. "Yes, an old friend. I'm Chandler Jennings, and you are?" He cut in smoothly, extending his hand. She extended hers and shook his hand, "My name is Theodosia Mellers, and I'm pleased to meet you."

Poppy watched this exchange, her heart sinking. Aurelius smiled a wide smile, his eyes flickering to hers. "I won't keep you two, then, but I just wanted to drop off this file and memo from the Senior Healer. We'll talk later, have a good day," Theodosia explained, handing Poppy the file. "Pleasure to meet you, Chandler." She said over her shoulder as she moved to the door. "Yes, a pleasure," he responded, watching her leave.

Aurelius turned to her then, grinning. "She was a pleasant sort, really lovely," he remarked, emphasizing the last word in particular. "I assume she was close to you and Rory?" He inquired, moving to her once again. Poppy didn't answer. His grin grew. "I asked you a question, an answer would be nice." He told her, that flinty edge to the accent returning as he put his hand on her, tearing off her white apron that went over her green robes, all in one fluid motion and quicker than the blink of an eye. She flinched, as if he'd struck her. "Yes," she breathed, feeling naked and exposed, even though she was still quite fully dressed.

"I thought as much," he murmured, fingering the collar of her robes. "As pleasant as this has been, I must take my leave. I've several things I must attend to. However, I want to request your presence for dinner, tomorrow evening." Aurelius declared, both of them knowing that it was definitely not a request. He moved in, kissing her hungrily, his arms enveloping her. "I'll be seeing you, Poppy," he whispered before he turned and left the room, leaving her alone in the room bathed in the stench of evil he'd left behind.