On Thursday morning, Poppy crawled out of bed. She had arrived home less than six hours previously, thanks to a late night in the library swotting up on concealment charms ahead of yet another set of practical tests.
Poppy had barely passed her one-on-one duelling test the day before – she'd almost choked when confronted with an Auror who chose to use many of the spells that fake-Moody had used against her.
She'd fought back well but taken longer than other candidates to defeat the wizard, having to use more complicated spells than others to subdue him.
But she found out at the end of the day that she'd managed to hold out longer than four other candidates, who had been cut from the assessments. She wouldn't find out her overall score until the end of the week, but she could only hope that her other marks would make up for her dip, as now there were only twelve candidates left, and Poppy didn't want to be at the bottom again.
One look at the clock on her bedside table sent a shock through her and she ran from her room and out the door, waving her wand to change her clothes, put her hair up in a ponytail, and spray herself with perfume to hide her lack of shower.
She summoned her deodorant, which flew out of the front door behind her, and when she reached the stairs, she recognised Fleur and Bill's laughter.
When she arrived at the Ministry atrium minutes later, she was still running slightly late by her own clock, but not by the Ministry's – she wanted to arrive no less than fifteen minutes early each day and was set to be only five minutes early thanks to her late morning.
Her relief at the time meant that it took her a moment to register the whispers and excited voices all around her. But when she did, Poppy felt in her gut that something big had happened.
A Ministry worker passed her on their way to the lifts, a copy of The Daily Prophet open as he scanned the page intently. Looking around, she saw that either people were holding and reading copies of the paper, or they were waving pages around, talking animatedly to colleagues.
Poppy swore under her breath – she was due to be at the Ministry for eight hours, which meant that she wouldn't find out what was going on until dinnertime.
And from the concerned, excited or horrified looks on the witches and wizards who were waiting for the lift's faces, this seemed far too important to not know.
In the lift, she was able to read the title of a small pamphlet over someone's shoulder. It had, it seemed, been printed quickly and shoved into each of the morning's papers.
It read: HARRY POTTER'S DESCENT INTO MADNESS: A TIMELINE
Poppy rolled her eyes and sighed deeply. She'd thought it was important. She smiled to herself and held on as the lift zoomed downwards. The coverage of Harry truly was ridiculous.
After a stop, the wizard holding the pamphlet closed his paper and Poppy's eyes widened as she read the front page of the paper.
DUMBLEDORE'S DISGRACE: BOY-WHO-LIVED USES MAGIC ON UNSUSPECTING MUGGLE
"Oh my god," she whispered, moving her hand to her mouth.
She tried to read over the wizard's shoulder when the lift dinged and half its inhabitants exited in a rush, taking the wizard and his paper with them.
Poppy spent the next two stops trying to think of what could have happened to Harry for him to use magic on or around the Muggles in his area. Not when the whole world was watching him through the papers, and especially not when there were Order members watching his every move in person.
She was so involved in her thoughts – trying to remember who was on guard duty over Harry today – that she almost missed her lift stop. Swearing under her breath, and after apologising to the lift attendant for trying to exit the lift when the doors were already shutting, she slipped out and walked quickly up to the doors that led to the Auror Department.
She was at the door when Percy's voice rang out behind her, and his hand closed around her upper arm. Percy pulled her to the side and looked around quickly.
It was the first time they'd spoken in a week or so, and she didn't have the time – she was going to be late. "Percy, I'm late," she said, pulling her arm out of his hold.
"Did you read The Prophet?" he asked impatiently.
"No, I didn't. Not this morning," she replied quickly. "Perce, I'm sorry, but I really have to…" She trailed off and followed his gaze – he was looking down the hall, back towards the lifts. "Are you alright?"
He hummed and narrowed his eyes, as if he was looking for something which Poppy couldn't see. "Arthur's office is on this level."
Poppy pursed her lips but said nothing of his calling his father by his first name. Instead, she huffed and said, "I have to go."
"Did you read the article?" he asked, stopping her again. He puffed out his chest and shook his head when she stayed quiet. "I'm not allowed to disclose too much. Minister's orders."
Poppy narrowed her eyes. He wanted to tell her something but was waiting for her to ask.
"Oh." She didn't want to pry, not now, but she had to - she knew that that was why she was even still in contact with Percy. She took a deep breath to try and focus on Percy and not on the ticking clock, and said in a much happier tone, "I'm about to walk into the Auror department and I'm guessing that you think it'll be impressive if they ask about it and I'm already prepared."
Percy's lips tipped up into a small smile. "Well, I'm sure it can't hurt too much. I can tell you that Harry," he said, moving slightly closer and lowering his voice to a whisper, "used underage magic last night in the presence of a Muggle no less. He'll be tried in two weeks." He sounded gleeful. "The Minister asked me to write a line for the press. He was so impressed he's asked me to write a few lines for his next speech!"
"Tried?" Poppy asked, gasping. She managed to turn her horror into simple disbelief quickly. "Sorry, but I- I've not heard of that happening before. Harry's going to be tried? Did he hurt someone?"
"Well, not that we can tell, but he used magic in the presence of a Muggle," he said quickly, as if rattling off a short list of things he needed to buy at the shop, "but you didn't think they'd just let him get away with it, did you?" he asked with a scoff, obviously affronted that she hadn't complimented him on his press work.
"Maybe," she whispered, watching a candidate go into the department. She really did have to go. "It's just- well, I'm sure we've all done underage magic before though, haven't we?"
"Of course, but not all of us have done it in front of Muggles, and not all of us have gone mad in the past few months spouting lies about You-Know-Who," he replied, shaking his head. He removed his glasses and a handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe the lenses.
"New glasses?" she asked after a moment, frowning at his more rounded pair. "Weren't yours-"
"Horn rimmed?" he asked, nodding. "I thought I'd go for a more sophisticated look."
Poppy stayed silent again. She knew he meant, 'less like my father's glasses.'
"Well, I have to go," he said importantly. "I was called into the office late last night to help deal with Mr Fudge's official statement and haven't had a chance to go home to change yet. I'm sure the Minister will want to see a fresh set of robes on me when he comes into the office. It's all about optics, don't you agree?"
"Of course," Poppy said, changing the tone of her words as she forced out a simpering compliment, "well done, Perce. Really. Can't believe they trusted you with that statement by the way. Here I was thinking you were a junior assistant."
"Yes, well," Percy replied, smiling again, "it was all hands on deck. I'll tell you more over lunch?"
Poppy shook her head. "Coffee? All of us candidates are meant to eat together, so I'll only have 10 minutes free this afternoon during our break."
"That's settled then. Come to the Minister's office when you're ready. Aren't you going to be late?" he added, as if he hadn't been the one to accost her outside the offices.
She said a hasty goodbye and then ran back to the door of the department, making it to the main assessment chamber as quickly as she could. She walked through to join the other candidates and not two seconds later, the door shut behind her and a bell rang out.
There was a bang behind her, and she turned to see two men trying to open the door.
"Lateness will not be tolerated," called a voice from the front.
Poppy let out a long breath. She'd almost not made it.
Once her day of tests had concluded she made her way home, changed, and then headed straight to the Order headquarters, Apparating onto the top step.
She almost rang the bell, but she remembered Mrs Weasley's anger at anyone who did that, so she knocked three times instead.
It took a few minutes, but the door creaked open and she smiled at Mrs Weasley.
"What are you doing here?" Mrs Weasley asked quickly, opening the door more to allow Poppy in.
She tried not to be offended. "Do you know what happened to Harry?" she asked as Mrs Weasley ushered her down the hall towards the kitchen.
"Yes, unfortunately," Mr Weasley replied once Poppy repeated her question in the kitchen.
Around the table sat Lupin, Sirius Black, Dedalus Diggle, Hermione and all the Weasleys minus Charlie and Percy.
"I informed the Order last night," Mr Weasley continued. "I was working a night shift and it all kicked off. I found out as much as I could and came back on my lunch break. We've since had more information on the attack itself, but…"
"What exactly happened?" Poppy asked quickly, taking one of Fred's proffered biscuits. She frowned when Mrs Weasley let out an annoyed noise and took the biscuit off Poppy before whacking her son around the back of the head.
"Dementors," Bill replied when no one else did. "Sent to Harry's house. He used a Patronus to get them off him. Mundungus was meant to be on duty but he left his post. He says it was only a few minutes, but who knows with 'Dung?"
"They're going to expel Harry for protecting himself?" Poppy asked, sitting down on the bench next to Tonks. She bit her tongue to stop herself from swearing at the mere thought of Mundungus.
"Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, upstairs please," Mrs Weasley said, sending pointed looks at each of the kids.
"No," Ginny said firmly, "it's nothing we don't already know."
Mrs Weasley narrowed her eyes and glared at Fred and George, who looked away quickly.
"No one's going to get expelled," Mr Weasley said quickly. "Dumbledore's been trying to get the whole thing downgraded. There'll be a meeting of some sort and Harry will have a slap on the wrist."
"Harry sent us notes," Hermione explained. She bit her lip and frowned. "He said what happened, and that he wanted information, but… but Dumbledore said we couldn't tell him anything. Not yet. We're waiting for him to get back now."
"They are going to expel him," Poppy insisted, shaking her head. The room fell silent. "Percy-" She winced when Mrs Weasley let out a cry and turned around, and the Weasley siblings and Mr Weasley's faces hardened. "I have it on good authority that whatever it is will be happening on the twelfth, and Fudge is already campaigning every one of the confirmed attendees to make sure they vote with him. They're planning daily defamation articles now. I'm sure Kingsley will say more when he gets here."
"That's ridiculous!" Fred and George cried at the same time as Sirius stood and began to pace.
"That must be why Dumbledore's still at the Ministry," Sirius said, frowning. "Well we can't wait. We need to get Harry out of there now. As soon as he's away from those Muggles, the better."
"No, Dumbledore said we have to wait until he arrives," Mrs Weasley said firmly.
"Who knows when that'll be?" Sirius snapped. "It's been hours. Harry will be wondering where we are. We should-"
Sirius stopped short, staring behind her. Poppy turned and saw a tired and annoyed looking Dumbledore standing in the doorway.
"Miss Granger, Mr Ronald Weasley, please wait for me in the drawing room upstairs. Sirius, Molly, Arthur, Remus, I must speak with you all urgently. Dedalus, please relieve Sturgis."
Hermione and Ron left the room immediately, followed closely by Dedalus.
Noticing that Fred, George and Ginny had stayed in the kitchen, Mrs Weasley ushered them out despite their protests.
Then, Dumbledore's bright blue eyes met Poppy's brown. "Miss Jacobs?" he asked. He seemed surprised that she was there at all.
"I heard about the trial," Poppy said quietly. "I came to tell Molly and Arthur." It felt weird, calling Mr and Mrs Weasley by their first names, but she felt more authoritative by doing so. "I didn't realise you were…" she said, trailing off. Of course Dumbledore had been at the Ministry.
Dumbledore nodded once. "I am sure that Molly or Arthur will relay your findings on. Now, go home. Wait for Bill to contact you regarding the next meeting."
Poppy glanced at Lupin, who smiled encouragingly at her. It lightened her heart slightly, though she still felt like she was being told off by the headmaster for being there.
"Oh, and Miss Jacobs?" Dumbledore asked, once Poppy reached the kitchen door. "Good luck for tomorrow. You are, dare I say it, exceeding my expectations."
That definitely lightened her heart.
The next day was a bit of a blur for Poppy.
She'd managed to get through most of the week relatively unscathed, but her final test had been an interview with a small panel of Aurors, and she didn't know if she'd answered well or not.
She had the distinct feeling that her answers had been too long winded.
When they asked her to explain what she would do if she came across a witch or wizard who used Fiendfyre, for instance, she'd talked not only of the process for controlling the fire, but also about the instances of controlling it by controlling the caster as well.
They hadn't seemed too impressed, and she'd clarified that she understood that the ways of controlling witches and wizards were outlawed now, but it was still important to be aware of. She'd fallen silent after that, and they'd moved on quickly.
Hours later, she stood with the other remaining applicants - who now numbered five rather than the fifty who began the week - in front of the Head of the Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour.
"As you will all know, entrance into the Auror training programme is extremely competitive," he said, looking around the room. "We began the week with fifty of you, and only five remain. Your resilience and the areas that you tested well in have been noted. Please find learnings from your shortcomings."
Poppy frowned. She couldn't be sure that Scrimgeour was complimenting them or not.
She heard one of the other applicants whisper something to another, and then a quiet answer. Both looked smug – they had been open that this was not their first year trying out. Perhaps Scrimgeour's words were positive.
"However, as you will all be aware, we have not taken on any new applicants since nineteen-ninety-two. We are reluctant to do so again this year."
His words were met with silence.
Not positive then, she thought angrily. She tried to keep her face impartial and clear, even though the news broke her heart. She wasn't angry at the Aurors who had tested her, she was angry at herself for not doing more. For not being as prepared as she should have been. Angry for throwing away the one opportunity she'd been working towards for years.
Her heart rate increased as did her breathing, and she fought against herself, trying not to let the tears well in her eyes. Fought to stop herself from being taken over by hot, red upset.
"We thank you for your time, and ask you to leave our offices quietly," Scrimgeour said, indicating the door. "You can collect your test scores and notes on your performance on the way out."
His words came through muffled, as she tried to contain her emotions – she still needed to make a good impression if she was going to try again next year. And war or not, she would try again next year.
The last to reach the door, she found that the Auror who had been handing out score sheets had empty hands. "Where's-?" she asked, frowning. The Auror shrugged indicated behind her, and she turned and looked at Scrimgeour.
She wanted to ask where her sheet was - to ask where she'd placed. Wanted to know what she could do better next time.
But she couldn't speak, thanks to the thick frog which sat in her throat, threatening to turn into a sob if she opened her mouth.
She felt ridiculous, being this upset at the result. So she turned and made to step through the doorway, telling herself not to care anymore.
Scrimgeour's voice rang out behind her. "Stay."
Poppy whined inwardly. She allowed her expression to change from anger to sadness and resignation. Now she'd be told off for glaring at the Head of the Auror Department in front of the Aurors who had been testing her all week.
"Name?" he asked when he reached her.
"Poppy Jacobs," she replied, turning around, keeping her voice even.
"Jacobs?" he asked.
Poppy watched as he flipped through a clipboard. Finally, he stopped on a page and scanned it. "You didn't receive a sheet. Why didn't you ask for it?"
Poppy frowned. This was a final test, she decided. She told herself to channel Fred and George's confidence, and said, "I assumed you didn't want me to have one."
He hummed. "An astute observation. Why did you not question that?"
Poppy frowned. "Was I meant to?" she asked. She'd berate herself later for her reply.
Scrimgeour appraised her for a long moment. "No," he said. "Were you not curious?"
Poppy's brow furrowed. "Of course. But… well, if the last forty years' of the assessment centre records are anything to go by, next years' tests and marking criteria will be completely different. So I guess I don't need to know anything other than the fact that I got into the top five. I'm going to be beating myself up about failing this year as it is. I might as well just prepare for the areas I believe I'm weak, and try again next year."
"The last forty years?" Scrimgeour asked.
Poppy swallowed thickly, and decided to tell the truth. "The Auror assessment files are kept in the library downstairs. Two weeks ago I asked Percy Weasley if he could get me access to them and he agreed."
Scrimgeour began to turn a purplish colour, as if he was holding his breath. "You went through…" He paused, his jaw clenched. Then he blinked. "How long did it take you?" he asked.
"Three evenings," Poppy replied honestly.
Scrimgeour glowered. "You are admitting to me that you cheated?"
"No," Poppy replied truthfully. "I studied. The marking changes every year and the tests are never the same. I didn't have a leg up on anyone, I just knew that I shouldn't expect anything. I knew that I couldn't prepare."
"Well then," Scrimgeour said, narrowing his eyes. "Goodbye," he said, turning away from her.
She sighed and returned home, now mad at his tactics.
Ready to crawl into bed and cry, she'd been hoping Fleur would be out when she got home. But when she walked through the door, she found Bill and Fleur cuddled on the sofa.
"How was eet? Er… it," Fleur asked, grinning at Bill as he nodded at her pronunciation and kissed her on the cheek.
Poppy pursed her lips, kicked the front door shut, and shook her head as she removed her shoes. She avoided their gaze.
"I'll go so you two can chat," Bill said, standing quickly, but Poppy shook her head. She wanted to say; "Stay. I'm just going to get changed," but nothing came out as she walked to her room.
This time, she closed her door carefully. Quietly.
She pulled off her robes and was about to chuck them on her bed when she realised it was made, which was very odd. She frowned and looked around the room to see if anything was missing - she'd been in a rush again that morning and remembered thinking she could just make it when she got back.
But soon enough she shook her head at her own stupidity, remembering that she had a very clean and friendly roommate now.
"Thank you, Fleur," she whispered sadly, moving to open her t-shirt drawer.
It felt odd, that something as simple as a made bed could cut through her depression, but it did. It was like a little reset button had been pressed, and she sighed, the side of her mouth tipping up into a small smile.
She stood in the middle of her room for what felt like hours, just staring at the tidy bed.
At some point she heard Fleur calling her name softly and opened the door to see her silver-blonde haired friend holding out a large mug of hot chocolate. Poppy took it gratefully.
"Come and tell us about it?" she asked, taking Poppy's arm.
Poppy sighed and shook her head. "It's fine. I just need a shower and a run."
"I really can leave if you want," Bill said, half-standing, but Poppy shook her head.
"Nah, you're okay," she replied again, walking to the bathroom.
They had an Order meeting that evening.
The meeting was bittersweet.
She arrived after Bill, having gone for a short walk to clear her head. Apparating to the bottom of the front stairs, Poppy watched Mundungus stumble through the door, leaving it slightly open as he loudly conveyed his apologies for leaving his post and allowing Harry to be put in danger; "'Ow was I to know 'e'd get attacked, eh? Had 'im under guard all bleedin' summer and nothin' 'appens, and then I go awf for a few minutes and 'e's attacked? Couldn't make it up!"
Poppy rolled her eyes and closed the door behind her. Walking along the hallway she listened to Mrs Weasley berating Mundungus in harsh whispers as she led him to the kitchen.
A hiss captured Poppy's attention at the bottom of the stairs, and she looked up to see Ginny, Fred, George, Ron and Hermione leaning over the banister.
Her brow furrowed and and then she rolled her eyes when Fred began waving his hand wildly, indicating the long flesh-coloured string currently halfway down the stairwell. "Don't tell," he hissed as quietly as possible.
Poppy frowned, his words taking a moment to sink in.
Just as she understood what Fred had said, George whispered, "Just go in," and Poppy did as she was asked – if she'd been one year younger and confined to this house, she would have been on the other end of that Extendable Ear.
She ducked inside the kitchen just as the meeting began, and squatted down by the door – there were no seats left. She placed her hands in her hoodie pockets and stayed quiet.
Dumbledore was in attendance, standing up by the head of the table.
Poppy scanned the attendees briefly, seeing all of the regulars, plus a few additions. She barely reacted when she realised that Snape was there but did a double take when she saw that there were two red-headed wizards sat next to Mr and Mrs Weasley at the table.
Charlie hadn't said he was coming to London. She just wished he had warned her so that she could have turned up early to speak to him.
She allowed herself to stare for a moment. In the weeks that she hadn't seen him, his hair had grown just a little more, enough that his fringe was now to his eyebrows. It suited him.
The meeting was much the same as the others, with Poppy feeling thoroughly impressed by the plans afoot.
She listened in rapt silence as Mr Weasley began to set up the rota for standing guard over the weapon that was currently being held in the Department of Mysteries. She wasn't completely sure what the weapon was – she hadn't been allowed to attend any meetings which were of vital importance yet, just in case the Ministry used Veritaserum on her during her assessment centre and she let something important slip.
So, she stayed quiet as the rota was drawn up.
Regretfully for Poppy, Auror training (or the lack of it) soon came up during the meeting.
"Now, Poppy," Dumbledore said, looking down at a piece of parchment in front of him. "Do we have a new Auror in our midst?"
"No. She wasn't picked. No one was, actually," Tonks said, glancing at Moody.
Poppy, who'd opened her mouth to answer, pursed her lips. Maybe she wasn't meant to speak.
"What did Scrimgeour say when he dismissed the entrants?" Dumbledore asked, nodding.
Poppy frowned when Tonks answered again, "We weren't there. We-"
"Jacobs can answer," Moody grumbled. He didn't turn his head, but Poppy was sure that his eye was fixed on her.
Poppy stood from her squat and leant against the wall, letting the blood drain back into her legs. She pulled down her hood to reveal her face properly.
"Bloody Merlin!" Mundungus shouted, his shocked voice louder than most. It seemed as though most of the people in the kitchen hadn't noticed her arrive.
"Mundungus left the door open," Poppy said, frowning, and pointing to the door. She didn't say what she wanted to which was; "Aren't we meant to be spies? How did no one notice me?"
"Oh Mundungus!" Mrs Weasley shrieked, standing.
"I closed it," Poppy said, slipping her hands into the pockets of her hoodie.
Mrs Weasley sat down, but continued to glare at the smaller, light-fingered wizard.
"Poppy?" Dumbledore asked, silencing the room. "Could you share Scrimgeour's parting words?"
Poppy took a moment and then recited Scrimgeour's words to the best of her ability.
"And his expression?" Dumbledore asked.
Poppy looked up, and her brown eyes met Dumbledore's blue. Despite her confusion, she replied quickly, explaining what he had said and his general demeanour. She didn't feel ready to share about her performance sheet yet though.
"Good. Thank you, Poppy. I believe you have done very well," Dumbledore replied. "Very well indeed."
"But I didn't get picked," she said, frowning with confusion.
"Scrimgeour showed his hand," Moody said gruffly, turning to her finally. "Not picking a recruit is good PR for the department. Shows he's secure in his Aurors and doesn't think he needs any more to help police Britain."
"But he doesn't, does he?" Poppy asked. She was instantly annoyed at herself for asking something so… unrefined. She always felt stupid, conversing with moody - the look he gave her was as if he felt that he was talking down to a child, and his general existence triggered her fight or flight. "He said there are no openings."
Moody shook his head. "Carrick retired this year. Scrimgeour should have recruited. This means he believes there is a threat. My guess is he's firming up his position and waiting for Fudge to go down. Then he'll run for wartime Minister and say something about needing more Aurors, more budget, and not repeating the failings of the previous leadership."
Poppy closed her eyes and allowed her back to thump against the wall behind her and muttered, "So then why…" She tipped her head and bit her bottom lip.
"There's more?" Moody asked.
Poppy nodded and looked to Dumbledore once more. She repeated what had happened after they'd been dismissed, and Scrimgeour's refusal to give her her score sheet.
Dumbledore's smile brightened. "That is brilliant news. Scrimgeour will be watching you from now on. I believe that once the Ministry decides to take this threat seriously, you will be recruited. Do as Scrimgeour said. Continue to train."
"I will. Of course," Poppy said, nodding quickly.
"And stop sneaking up on people in the meantime. Scared the bleedin' life outta me," Mundungus added just before they moved on.
Poppy smiled as everyone began to laugh. When she allowed herself to look at Charlie, she found that he was already staring at her.
"Now," Dumbledore said, "Harry's extraction. Severus, what have you heard?"
When they broke for dinner most Order members left for their own homes, and the remaining Weasley siblings and Hermione traipsed into the kitchen to help with dinner, pretending that they had not been listening in to the meeting.
"Poppy?" Ginny asked, staring at her. "I'm really sorry about what happened."
Poppy rolled her eyes and smiled at the smaller girl, who ran over to her. Ginny flung her arms around her and Poppy tried not to laugh.
"Do I need a hug? I saw you the other day," Poppy said, shaking her head as Ginny released her.
"Well, I thought you might not be here… and if you were, you might still be annoyed at me," Ginny said, looking across the kitchen at Charlie and Bill.
"I'm not," Poppy replied truthfully. With the events of the past few days, she'd forgotten her hurt at Ginny's assumption. "But you have to stop thinking I'm dating everyone who moves and then avoiding me for it. Especially when it feels like it undermines my achievements. I'd just finished my first day of an assessment centre I've worked towards for years, and-"
"I didn't mean to," Ginny replied over her, "it was just the first time I'd seen you in days and… well, I know what was in your letter to Charlie so I assumed…"
Poppy blushed. She thought quickly of a way to stop Ginny from reading further into her interactions with Charlie.
"I know what you read," Poppy whispered to Ginny, "and thank you for taking it out so I didn't make a fool of myself. But Charlie and I are just friends. Especially now."
"What?" Ginny asked, frowning over at her brother. "No. He-"
"We're just friends," Poppy replied quietly.
"I wouldn't have taken it out of your letter if I'd thought it would have stopped you being together," Ginny whined.
"It didn't. But when you're living in two different countries and there's a war-" Poppy stopped mid sentence and sighed deeply at the look on Ginny's face.
"But Bill and Fleur are dating," Ginny said.
Poppy frowned at the way Ginny said Fleur's name, but decided to let it pass.
"I think you're forgetting something big," Poppy said, tilting her head to the side. "What am I?"
"A witch?" Ginny asked, frowning.
Poppy smiled, her expression softening. "Yes, but I'm a Muggle-born witch. Fleur and Bill are both Pure-bloods. I don't think anything will come of them being in a relationship," Poppy said, voicing aloud for the first time one of her deepest worries.
Ginny blinked. "But- but- but," she stammered, as if she hadn't thought about this at all, "what… what about Harry? His parents were a Muggle-born and a Pure-blood and they fell in love, got married, and-"
Ginny stopped speaking, and turned bright red as she realised her mistake.
Poppy's smile dropped slightly and she placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "It could work for some people, but I didn't think it was the best course of action for me. Not right now. My job, if I get into Auror training next year, will be dangerous. In any case, I'm part of the Order now, and so's Charlie. It puts targets on our backs. And my target is bigger than most. Death Eaters aren't going to want to spill 'pure' blood."
She thought of what fake-Moody had told her last year - that she would make good target practice for true Death Eaters.
Ginny frowned. "So you're saying that it's too dangerous to date anyone right now?"
"No!" Poppy said, laughing now. "Not for you. You date. Have fun. Enjoy Hogwarts. Heaven knows you'll need a distraction this year. What I'm saying is that some of us have to think about these things. And you took the page out of my letter to Charlie, which took away any complications for me so thank you." Poppy felt bad, lying to Ginny, but she thought that if the young girl thought that Charlie didn't know how Poppy felt about him, it would make the whole thing easier for her to understand.
"So you chose this," Ginny said, her face falling even more.
"I did," Poppy agreed.
"To keep Charlie safe?"
"Hopefully."
Ginny began to argue, "But what if-"
"Look, let's talk about this later," Poppy said, stopping her as she noticed that Fred and George had fallen conspicuously silent and were glancing at them.
Poppy tried to get to the other side of the kitchen, so that she could speak to Charlie, but didn't make it in time and spent her dinner sitting in between Mundungus, and across from Sirius, which meant her evening was spent listening to outlandish and loud tales. Under the right circumstance, this would have been lovely, but it meant that Poppy missed everything that Charlie said.
It wasn't the worst thing in the world though - whilst Poppy didn't see much of Charlie at dinner (and so didn't have any one on one time to ask him for the clue he'd once proffered about his apparently indecipherable note), she did avoid Ginny, who spent two hours staring between Charlie and Poppy with her hand on her chin and a glum expression on her face.
In fact, small girl sulked so much that Mrs Weasley sent her to bed with a mild pain potion, thinking that she had a bad headache.