On Saturday morning Poppy turned up at her new residence with her trunk and backpack in tow.
Her new flat was in a Muggle area of London, above a row of shops in Shaftesbury Avenue. When Poppy first arrived, she thought she'd been given the wrong address, but soon she realised, with surprise, her flat was housed within one of the most iconic mansion blocks in London.
She felt like an outsider as she carried her things up the steps, wondering how on earth they were affording to live in such a beautiful building, but the Muggles she passed treated her as one of their own - they either ignored her, offered her a hand or commented on her strength.
The latter two greetings left Poppy confused. In her area of London, people didn't offer to lend hands. Rather than feeling welcomed, she felt ill-ease and suspicious.
In any case, whether the Muggles were well-intentioned or not, Poppy didn't accept any offers of help as she didn't want to alert them to the fact that her bags were incredibly light thanks to her featherweight charms.
After six flights of stairs, she found her silver-haired French friend and now room-mate at the top of the building, standing outside of a blue painted wooden front door, complete with golden letterbox, knocker, and number '24'.
Fleur, who was dressed in an outfit which reminded Poppy of what an off-duty 60s starlet would wear - high waisted white and grey striped tailored shorts, a crop white tee, white trainers, and a scarf holding her hair back - greeted Poppy with a hug.
Fleur seemed to have taken to Muggle attire much easier than Poppy would have imagined, but, when she really thought about it, she realised that she shouldn't have worried for Fleur at all. Even if she'd been wearing witches robes, she'd have pulled it off and no one would have batted an eyelid. They would have called her 'fashion forward'. Perks, Poppy supposed, of being so beautiful that people wouldn't normally notice what you were wearing.
Poppy's own outfit of black t-shirt tucked into black jean shorts paled in comparison, but of course, Fleur took the time to hold Poppy at arms length to compliment her, ("Tu es superbe!"), and remark that she looked much healthier than the last time Fleur had seen her.
Poppy smiled gratefully - she appreciated the words more than Fleur could know.
It felt odd to have last seen each other not two weeks previously. It felt like a lifetime had passed.
And to now be stood outside their new home together… Poppy felt swirling butterflies in her stomach.
"Gabrielle said to say hello," Fleur said happily, handing a set of keys to Poppy.
"Hi Gabi," Poppy replied with a smile. She only knew the younger girl from a brief chat after the Second Task, and from speaking to Fleur, but she thought a great deal of the younger girl already.
"I waited to unpack," Fleur said, leading Poppy inside. "I thought it could be a moment for us to share."
Poppy smiled - Fleur didn't have to wait, and yet she had. For her. "Thank you."
"Of course," Fleur said, moving towards a trunk that sat in the middle of the empty living room.
"Okay, this is much bigger than you described!" Poppy exclaimed, turning around so that she could see the rest of the living area.
Fleur hadn't lied, as the living space was open plan. Only, Poppy had been expecting to barely be able to fit a sofa and small dining table in the space.
Instead, Poppy found herself in a room large enough for a nice sized wall of kitchen cabinetry, a kitchen island and stools, and space enough for a large dining table and chairs, more than one sofa, and at least one desk. There were two crittal-style double doors leading onto a small balcony which looked out onto the busy and bustling theatre-heavy street below.
The rooms were empty of course, and Poppy was just thinking that they would need to go furniture shopping, when Fleur opened her trunk and began to levitate various magically shrunken objects into the room: a sofa; two armchairs; a few lamps; two beds; what looked like a desk and chair; a dining table set; various paintings; and a few boxes.
She piled everything in the middle of their living room, and began to look around as if assessing where each item could go.
"What's all this?!" Poppy asked, staring at the various piles.
Fleur turned and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "What? My Papa insisted I come with a few home comforts."
"You came with two beds? Who are you? The princess from Princess and the Pea?" Poppy asked, staring still.
Fleur frowned. "I do not know that. But no, of course one of them is for you. I told Mama you were bringing little and so she sent me with two. I can return it if-"
"No, thank you," Poppy said, cutting over Fleur with a grateful and wobbly smile.
She didn't say that this would be the first non-Hogwarts bed that was officially 'hers' since she had turned 12 - she didn't want to count the tiny single bed she'd been confined to in her rented flat last summer.
"It is just a bed," Fleur said, though she hugged Poppy back happily. "We still have to choose rooms, and-"
"You can have the bigger one," Poppy said immediately, walking over to two of the doors which led off the living room. She stuck her head into each bedroom, noting that they both had windows which also looked out onto London - they were, it seemed, on a corner plot, but one room was bigger and seemed to have a larger inbuilt wardrobe.
"If you are sure," Fleur replied, and Poppy felt the air on the back of her neck as Fleur's personal belongings began to whoosh past her and into the bigger bedroom.
"Definitely," Poppy said, summoning her own bits to her room.
She assumed that Fleur would need the space, should things go well with Bill, and due to the layouts of the rooms, this way Poppy's bed would be as far away from their shared wall as possible.
—
"How's this?" Poppy asked half an hour later, waving her wand to levitate a rather large painting of a Veela - Fleur's grandmother she presumed - onto the living room wall. "Is that in the middle?"
"Non. Déplacer vers la gauche," Fleur said, looking up from the pot she was unpacking, frowning at the placement of the painting.
The Veela glared out of her frame and nodded in agreement at Fleur's words.
Poppy squinted in concentration and then raised an eyebrow and asked, "Move it a little left?"
"You are close," Fleur smiled kindly, "I did not say little."
Poppy grinned, closed her hand into a fist of triumph, and began to move the painting.
Just then, they heard a knock on the front door and a, "Hello!" as Percy ducked his head into their flat. "The door was open."
Poppy sighed. When she'd told Percy she would be moving in on Saturday morning, he had invited himself over to help - he'd said he'd been loathe to leave her on her own since her 'date' the other night. Poppy had managed to hold him off for the morning by saying that she needed some time to unpack her 'delicates', but he was still slightly earlier than she'd expected.
Really, Poppy wondered if he just wanted to be nosy and see why they'd chosen to live in a Muggle building. From the fact that he was wearing his wizard robes unashamedly, she assumed he'd Apparated outside the flat and hadn't walked up as she had.
"Fleur, you remember Percy, Ron Weasley's older brother, don't you?" Poppy asked, putting emphasis on 'Percy', 'Weasley', and 'don't you'. "Please be nice, it's of life and death importance," she whispered as quickly and quietly as she could when Fleur joined her in the middle of the living room to frown at their guest.
Fleur's eyes widened for a moment and then she plastered the most beautiful smile on her face and greeted Percy warmly. The only marker that showed that she wasn't entirely happy that he was there was the fact that she didn't glow at all that afternoon.
Poppy and Fleur survived the unpacking process and finally, after a dinner which he invited himself to, Percy left the two alone to get some rest.
"What was of life and death importance?" Fleur asked, sitting in her armchair elegantly, a cup of peppermint tea held between her palms.
"Do you ever sit badly?" Poppy asked, frowning. "Like, do you just," she said, throwing herself backwards to lie haphazardly across the sofa. She adjusted to a more comfortable position, picked up her glass of chilled pumpkin juice, and raised an eyebrow.
Fleur shrugged. "Of course. But I do not want to sit like that right now," she said, her accent more pronounced now that she was tired. "I will attempt to sit badly anuzzer time if you would like. Now, life and death?" she asked again.
Poppy pursed her lips and asked, "How much has Bill told you about what Percy said when he left home?"
"Nothing," Fleur said slowly. "Bill and I…" she trailed off and fell into a thoughtful silence.
"Bill and you what?" Poppy prompted, curiously.
Fleur sighed and took a sip of her tea. "We are just writing to each other. It is nothing more," she replied finally.
Poppy frowned. This didn't seem like the same Fleur who had pulled Roger Davies into the hedges at the Triwizard Tournament. She seemed… less confident.
"You like him?" Poppy asked.
"Yes. Yet perhaps I was wrong in thinking that he liked me also. I asked if he would like to have lunch with us today. I thought that it would be nice for you to see him as you are friends, and I would like to see him again also. I am sad to say that he said non, and in his place, his brother came."
"You're not used to men saying no to you, are you?" Poppy asked with a small smile.
Fleur smirked. "No, I am not used to that. It intrigued me. But Mama said that it might mean he does not want to see me. I think now that she was right."
"Ah," Poppy said, adjusting on her sofa, "Bill likes you. You should ask him to lunch or something. Trust me, he's not avoiding you, he's avoiding his brother."
"Tell me why," Fleur said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Poppy pursed her lips and said, "It all depends on what Bill's told you."
"As I said, he has said nothing," Fleur said slowly. "In my last letter I asked the health of his family and he said that they were well but sad. He said that something had happened but did not say more. I do not know anything else."
Poppy pursed her lips. If Bill hadn't explained the situation to Fleur, then Poppy didn't think it was her place to elaborate. She'd already said too much.
"I think Bill should explain more," Poppy said.
"Does it have to do with Dumbledore?" Fleur asked.
Poppy sighed and rolled her eyes. Fleur was too smart. "I really can't say."
Fleur smiled. "No need. I know when you lie. It is clear that Dumbledore is involved. Even in France our papers call him a madman but Madame Maxime told us all to listen to his words to us. He said that Ced-" Her voice cracked slightly. The women shared a sad look, and then Fleur blinked furiously and then continued as if nothing had happened. "That Cedric had been murdered. I believe him."
"You do?"
"Yes. Do you not?" Fleur asked, her eyes widening in shock.
"No, I do," Poppy replied quickly. "But, you know… it's not a popular thing to admit at the moment, and I'm going to have to spend a lot of time pretending that I don't."
"Good," Fleur replied, "and that is fine. I understand. We will only tell each other our true feelings for now."
Poppy smiled and looked down at her cup. She shouldn't have underestimated Fleur. Just because Cass and Esther had chosen to ignore the warnings didn't mean that Fleur would as well.
"D'accord," Fleur continued, speaking to herself, "Percy… il était un représentant du Ministère de la Magie au Tournoi des Trois Sorciers, et leur ligne officielle est que Cédric est mort par accident. Alors pourquoi croirait-il Dumbledore?"
Poppy nodded and sipped her drink, intrigued by Fleur's immediate deduction of the situation. When Fleur asked if she understood her, Poppy shrugged and said she understood enough.
"Then it is simple," Fleur said with a shrug. "Percy will not believe Dumbledore. He will believe your Ministre de la Magie. Mais… er… but Ron, his brother, is Harry's best friend is he not?"
"He is," Poppy said, nodding.
"And he believes what Harry says is true?" Fleur asked.
"He does," Poppy said.
"Good. I knew that I was correct to think highly of him after he saved Gabrielle. Bill will believe Harry as well. I know this as I know that he is brave and intelligent. And so… Merde… Please tell me what happened?" Fleur raised a questioning eyebrow.
Poppy sighed. She guessed Bill wouldn't be too annoyed at her if she said a little more. Not when Fleur had deduced the basics. "There was an argument. Bill will explain when he's ready. But you're right, it was bad. Really bad. Percy said some terrible things."
Fleur sighed in understanding and then frowned. "Why are you friends with him?" she asked, affronted. "If Bill is unhappy?"
"I have to be his friend," Poppy said quickly. "Bill told me to be at least. I'm really sure you'll understand when Bill explains more."
Fleur nodded and lifted her tea to her lips. "He must want to continue a relationship with his brother. Perhaps? Or perhaps not. I shall speak to him when he is ready. I cannot imagine how hard this must be for him. I would be inconsolable if I no longer knew Gabrielle."
Poppy shut her eyes and Fleur didn't question her further, instead turning her attention to whether they should get a radio or record player, or do without.
She settled on both before Poppy could ask about the cost, and waved Poppy's offer of cash away with an elegant flick of her wrist.
"Poppy," Fleur said later, before they both went to bed. "Thank you."
"For what?" Poppy asked, frowning.
"For living with me."
Poppy almost laughed, but then she saw Fleur's expression. "You're the one doing me a favour," she said quietly, when Fleur reached her own bedroom door.
Fleur paused and looked over her shoulder. For the first time, Poppy saw her sadness. "No," she said, with a sincere smile. "I would be alone, if you were not here. I do not mind that, but I am happier to be sharing with you. You will understand if I am sad, or happy, or… what happened last year. You understand…"
"How terrible it was," Poppy finished for her. "I… Fleur, I don't… I don't think I want to talk about last year," Poppy said, looking down. She fidgeted with the hem of her top.
"That is okay," Fleur said, smiling, "you will talk when you are ready. No one will force us to relive our moments. I would like this home to be a happy one."
"Perfect," Poppy said.
After a lovely week and a half of living with Fleur, Poppy found herself travelling to the Ministry of Magic rather than Gringotts.
She had only been to the Ministry once before in her life, and that was to legally change her first name from Margaret to Poppy.
So, while she knew that she'd have to weigh her wand at the Atrium and knew which lift to take to get to the Auror Office's floor, she didn't know quite what to expect when she reached the office itself.
Stepping out of the lift, she followed a few wizards and witches who seemed to know where they were going, and soon found herself just inside a pair of very large, very heavy looking oak doors.
There were numerous cubicles jammed into the large room she'd entered, and doors leading off this way and that lined the walls.
On the side of one cubicle there was a small sign which read, 'Auror Office', and a small parchment sign tacked onto the bottom of it which simply read, 'Entrance exams, enter at your own risk,' in green ink.
There was a crowd of other witches and wizards standing by the doors - Auror hopefuls crammed into every available space. Poppy had just squeezed in between a large plant and a cabinet when the door opened behind her and more candidates joined the huddle.
Even with the crowd, the chatter and buzz of the office itself was the only sound – the candidates were all silent, and Poppy was glad to find that she wasn't the only one staring worriedly at the little warning sign.
After a few minutes, a wizard in scarlet robes kicked his feet off his desk and ducked his head round his cubicle to see what they were all looking at.
"Come on!" he shouted, turning to the office in general as he held up the sign. "Really?"
There was a roar of laughter somewhere in the middle of the block of cubicles, and the wizard in scarlet robes rolled his eyes, taking the sign away with him. "If Scrimgeour sees this he'll have my head, not yours."
Poppy tried not to smile and stood up straight, trying to make a good impression.
Soon enough they were all invited to take some refreshments in one of the rooms leading off from the office.
Another makeshift sign on this door read, 'Breakroom,' but it was older than the other one, and Poppy suspected it had been there for years.
"Right, grab a drink. We'll be calling for you all in a few minutes," a witch shouted from the front of the room, before disappearing through yet another door.
Poppy waited until a few of the other candidates sipped their drinks before pouring herself a cup of coffee.
While she waited for the milk and sugar tray to become free, she had a quick mental headcount.
By her estimate there were fifty witches and wizards of varying ages there, all packed into the room. Only recognising two Hogwarts students from her year, Poppy could only assume that more than one of remaining number had tried out for the programme before.
The fact that Tonks had managed to get through to Auror training on her first year had always seemed impressive to Poppy, but she hadn't realised just how impressive it was until she overheard someone boasting that this was their fifth year trying out.
"Sixth for me," a candidate said to Poppy, grabbing her attention.
He was a tall man, with blonde hair and what seemed like a half-grown moustache. Poppy thought for a moment that he'd grown it to look more authoritative, but she shook that thought away as it was having the opposite effect.
"What do you think about all this Dumbledore business?" the candidate asked her, pouring a cup of coffee out of the oversized carafe in front of them.
Poppy sighed somewhat dramatically and shook her head, looking down at her own mug. She took a long swig of the bitter tasting brew.
She had been prepped on this – just a day before, she'd spent over two uncomfortable hours with Moody and Kingsley, going over how to answer questions like this and how not to raise suspicions when she answered. It was, Kingsley and Moody had told her, the only help they could give her.
"If I'm honest," she said slowly, looking up at the other candidate, "I just find it all hard to believe."
"Why?" he asked.
"Well, he was a wartime hero, right? There was Grindelwald's war, then You-Know-Who. But we're in peacetime now. Maybe he needs there to be another threat so he can stay relevant or in control? Then again, he is what, over a hundred? Maybe he's just senile."
She shrugged again and let out a long sigh, shaking her head. "Look, I'm here to try and protect people. Not open them up to unnecessary fear."
"Couldn't agree more," said the other candidate. "I've been out of Hogwarts for a few years now. Heard about all the goings on there. Awful. Surprised they let him run the place after that snake business."
"Uh, yeah! I was there for that. I mean, it was awful for you to hear about. Imagine living it! I heard that when Black escaped, we only got protection at Hogwarts because Fudge intervened," she said with a Percy-like scoff, "and Dumbledore basically let him into the castle! This-" She stopped and swallowed thickly. She didn't want to say it but she knew she had to. "This year a student died under his watch."
"Merlin. I heard about that too. Did you know him?"
Poppy paused for a moment, a lump forming in her throat. "Cedric?" she asked. How did she even begin to explain that she did know him, but not as well as Cass? "Kind of. We were in the-"
"Please leave your drinks and follow me," came a booming voice, taking away all of their attention.
Poppy followed the small crowd and noticed that the person who had asked her a question, and various others, stayed behind in the breakroom.
The remaining candidates waited in the next room for ten minutes, and Poppy used the time to assess her surroundings.
She felt safe enough but knew that there was something coming and so didn't let her guard down.
An older wizard with thinning dark brown hair stuck his head around the door at the far side of the room and said, "Fredricks, Jacobs, Drighton, Angeterre, Dante, Osillar, follow me. The rest of you can wait here."
Poppy tried to school her features when she continued on into the next room and saw who was there.
Kingsley stood behind a table which had seven little vials on it. His arms crossed at his chest, his eyes narrowed. Poppy would have laughed, considering how happy he usually seemed, but she knew that this was a test.
"Drink," Kingsley said, pointing to the vials. "There's one for each of you."
Poppy frowned when one of the candidates immediately walked forwards and picked up one of the vials, downing its contents in one mouthful.
Another candidate stopped halfway to the table and looked back at the rest, who hadn't moved yet.
"What is it?" she asked Kingsley with a deadpan expression on her face.
"Antidote. The coffee we gave to you all was poisoned," Kingsley explained.
The candidate who had stopped, moved forwards and downed a vial which had sat in the middle of the bunch.
"Come on now. The sooner we get this stage over with, the sooner we can get onto the real exam for today - duelling," Kingsley said, letting his arms drop. He reached his hands into his pockets and tilted his head to the side. "Well?"
"What happens if we don't drink?" one of the others asked.
"Then you're cut from the programme before we even begin and you'll be on your way to St. Mungo's. You're meant to be following orders. Do you really want to be cut on day one?" Kingsley asked, raising an eyebrow.
Poppy bit her bottom lip and let it scrape through her teeth as she released it. She stared at the vials for what seemed like a long time. Enough time at least for most of the other candidates to break, and for them to drink the potion. By the time she zoned back in to the room, she found herself and one other still standing, their vials sitting on the table untouched.
"It's fine," one of them called to her and the other staller after a while. "Just drink it and let's go."
Poppy's frown deepened, and then she nodded and moved forwards, squatting down so that she was eye level with the remaining vials. She began to inspect them one by one, checking: the colour - colourless; the seal around the corks - untampered; the bottom of the vials - again, untampered. She also checked the lines in the vials for any slight holes or issues with the glass.
"Am I allowed to use my wand?" Poppy asked.
"You are, but I don't see why you would," Kingsley said seriously, though Poppy could see the slight upwards tilt of his lips when he looked down at her and folded his arms again.
"Thank you," she said, conjuring three small glasses. "Oh," she added, turning to the other candidate who was now standing by her shoulder. "I'm guessing you're not just going to drink this either?"
"Happy to follow your lead," the man said with a small shrug.
Poppy turned back to the vials and levitated them one by one, using magic to remove the corks and pour them evenly into the three glasses. Then she stood.
"You first," Poppy said, pushing one of the glasses towards Kingsley.
Kingsley stared at the glass for a long time, and then looked at Poppy, then back at the glass and back at her.
"It's not a test," Kingsley said, shaking his head. "We gave you something in the coffee. This is the antidote."
"Antidotes aren't fatal and most do not harm. Much," she added in an undertone. "You drink and we'll drink. Unless this is the actual poison."
They appeared to have reached a stalemate as Kingsley seemed incredibly reluctant to drink the potion as it was, but none of them could move on until they'd all had a drink.
Finally, Kingsley gave in and downed the potion in one. Poppy and the other candidate followed suit.
Then Kingsley held out an arm and pointed to the door behind him.
"Through that door," he said. "Not you lot," he called to the other candidates who were lined up on the wall in various stages of boredom. "You can all go home."
Poppy thought he muttered to himself, "Every year," but she wasn't sure.
She found the rest of that day rather boring. They didn't duel as Kingsley had said they would. Instead she joined a queue of over thirty wizards and witches to fill in paperwork, weigh their wands again, and take a surprise two-hour theory test on curses and countercurses.
By the end of the day there were only twenty-three entrants left. They were told to make sure they arrived early the next day and be prepared to spend ten hours in training.
Poppy quickly made a plan to make sure she'd have enough Veritaserum antidote for the next few days, and once they were released, she made her way into Muggle London to a rather large and well-equipped pharmacy supplier. There, she managed to sweet talk an assistant into letting her buy a single pack of fifty empty liquid pill capsules.
Stashing her shopping bag under her mattress, she changed into Muggle clothes and shouted to Fleur that she was going out for dinner, before Apparating to Grimmauld Place to give her debrief on the first day of the assessment centre to Mr and Mrs Weasley, who would pass on her information to Dumbledore.