Poppy missed the last dregs of summer. While people her age spent their September enjoying the combination of new jobs and the last of the sunshine ahead of winter, Poppy spent most of her waking hours during the week training in the underground Auror offices, carrying out dull administrative and research tasks, and learning from older, more battle-weary Aurors. Her weekends were filled with research and studying ahead of the next week's classes.

She'd only seen Percy a couple of times since they'd had coffee, and she was happy to blame her absence from his life on her long hours, instead of the truth - that she was avoiding him.

Being a workaholic, and with constant education reforms at Hogwarts to help with, Percy didn't seem to mind much. Or, rather, Poppy had the feeling that Percy just hadn't noticed how long it had been since they had last spoken.

On the other hand, Poppy now saw the eldest Weasley brother, Bill, daily. It had only been a matter of days after Poppy's weekend stay at The Burrow before Bill and a small bag of his things had turned up to make a semi-permanent home in Fleur's room.

At first the couple denied that he had moved in, but after a couple of weeks, Fleur and Bill admitted that they had taken the next step in their relationship, and now that they had tasted the delights of living together, they didn't want to part.

Bill also bade Poppy not to tell his mother, who still believed he was living with her. Somehow, she hadn't noticed yet that on the days that he was 'at home', he would sneak out each night to stay with Fleur, only to return in the early hours of the morning in time for breakfast.

It seemed that Charlie and Bill were similar in some ways.

Poppy was incredibly happy for Bill and Fleur. So much so that she didn't mind him being at the flat at all, and found solace in the knowledge that Fleur would be kept safe from the coming war by Bill's constant presence.

Which is why, when Bill tried to pay a share of the rent at the end of September, Poppy told him under no uncertain terms that that was stupid. Her rent had been affordable on her part-time Gringotts wages, let alone now that she had the full-time Auror-in-training pay coming in. And this new pay was a much more than agreeable sum - Poppy was on track to easily earn more in a single month as a trainee than she'd earnt all last summer waiting tables and stacking books.

Her only annoyance with Bill's presence came when she began to find his socks in the living room in random places, like right by the coffee table, on the side of the sofa, and inexplicably in the middle of the floor by the front door.

When she'd complained to Charlie about it in a letter, asking if she was crazy for being bothered by it, he'd found it amusing and sent her a pair of bright pink and white striped socks. While she hadn't been completely sure what it meant, she had followed Charlie's instructions to the letter and handed them to Bill during dinner one night.

He'd turned bright red and the socks hadn't been a problem since.

But while she was happy with her home life, as the days wore on, a sense of frustration at being desk-bound at work settled in Poppy's gut. By the beginning of October, the novelty of helping with paperwork for active cases, but being unable to go out into the field due to Scrimgeour's rules, had worn off.

Tonks made her jealous at dinner one night by saying that she had been taken on active cases from her first week of training. Though Tonks then backtracked and said she was probably taken out because of her being a Metamorphmagus and therefore extremely useful as a lookout, Poppy knew it wasn't just that - Scrimgeour was still suspicious of her, and Poppy knew it.

But then something exciting occurred. The first week of October came and with it Poppy's turn to guard the entrance to the Department of Mysteries. Being the youngest acting Order member by some three (almost four) years, she knew this was a big opportunity to prove her usefulness, and she was keen to impress.

She practised spending an entire night awake in the corner of her room twice, and did so after a full day's work. The second time she did it preceding a full day's training as well, just to make sure she could take lookout duty whenever the Order needed her to.

Bill said that she was overthinking things, but Poppy's over-preparedness worked well in her favour.

The night of her first turn at official guard duty, the early evening shift had been taken by Emmeline Vance and, while Mr Weasley kept an eye out, Emmeline met with Poppy to hand over Moody's invisibility cloak in an old public Muggle toilet in Leicester Square.

Poppy pulled the fabric around herself and slipped out of the toilet stall, whispering a quick thanks to Emmeline before walking slowly towards the exit. Then she Apparated into the Ministry atrium and called a lift.

Once she reached the corridor that led to the Department of Mysteries, Poppy tapped Mr Weasley on the shoulder in a rhythmic pattern to relieve him of duty, and then hid in a corner and sank down to the floor until she had her knees to her chest. Then she pulled out her book, Advanced Potions for the Post-Education Potioneer, and began to read.

Poppy had been there for a few minutes when she took out a pencil and marked a note in the column by an interesting titbit on stirring techniques.

The scratching noise reverberated around the otherwise silent corridor and sent a shock of pins and needles to her armpits.

She pocketed the pencil and shook her head at her own stupidity.

The first cardinal rule of not bringing attention to yourself was to stay hidden visually and audibly!

Poppy spent the next eight long hours reading, spending long seconds turning each page to stay as quiet as humanly possible.

Her eyes barely drooped thanks to her training.

Then, at seven in the morning, the Unspeakables began their commute into the office, and once the third one had walked past her, she made her way to the lift and got off at the atrium, where she slipped off the cloak under cover of Apparition, and joined the crowd back to work.

"Well done," Kingsley said, smiling at her later that evening. "I'll let Moody know that you'll be joining rotation."

Poppy excitedly spent the next few days learning how to imbibe objects with silencing charms, and during her next stint at guarding the entrance to the department (only a few days later, due to few conflicting Order schedules) Poppy spent the eight hour stretch studying for her Stealth and Tracking theory exam and writing notes again. Only this time, she made no noise. And neither did her pencil against her parchment.

The next day, Poppy sat for her theory exam and thought she'd aced it.

That was, until she got her results back, when she found a large letter 'A' scrawled at the top of her paper.

She wrote to Charlie immediately to complain.

Charles,

Results are in… I got an A.

Can't say I'm not disappointed. Johnson, the examiner, said I got a 67 which is a mid-high A at least.

She couldn't ask him if he'd be back soon, so instead she wrote;

Can you give me an update on that Common Welsh Green? Missing him.

Poppy

Then, she avoided talking to anyone about her exam, even when that meant leaving the Order meeting on Friday evening the moment it ended, and running into her room and slamming the door shut when Bill asked if she was upset because of her grade.

That Sunday afternoon, just as Poppy sat down and began her now weekly routine of burrowing under a blanket on the sofa for a well deserved nap, there was a strong knock at the door.

Poppy wanted to ignore it. In fact, she did ignore it. Until the letter flap opened and Bill called, "Poppy, let me will you? I know you're there. I can see your hair."

Poppy groaned loudly and made a mental note to cut all her hair off before her camouflage exam. Dragging herself from her comfort, she let Bill inside the flat.

"You're here all the time. Why hasn't Fleur given you a key yet?" she asked moodily.

"I have one, but…" Bill said, looking around distracted, and Poppy found her worries piqued when she saw the look on his face.

The moment the door closed behind him, Bill silenced it, and peered around to see if Fleur was home. "Good," he muttered, when Poppy said she was alone. "Look, there's an emergency meeting. Mum's freaking out, Dad's trying to calm her down… We managed to get her to headquarters to talk it over but she's not happy."

"What happened?" Poppy asked, summoning her jacket. When Bill eyed her outfit, she looked down at her 'The Who' t-shirt (complete with tea stain), blue and red chequered pyjama trousers and blue slippers. "Oh, are we outfit policing now?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at his expression. She pointed to his fang earring and said, "At least I don't have random teeth hanging from my ears."

Bill seemed mildly impressed at her reply. "You know, you're getting sassier in your old age," he said, as she ushered him quickly out of the flat.

"Or I'm too tired to care any more," Poppy replied, locking the door behind them.

"You know, my mum could get that stain out," he said, as they made their way quickly down the stairs.

"Nah, she's alright. I like washing it the Muggle way," Poppy said. She didn't feel like explaining that the t-shirt and tea-stain, were some of the only things she still had of her mother's.

When they arrived at Grimmauld Place, Poppy could tell the mood had shifted significantly since the last time she'd been there.

The moment Poppy stepped into the kitchen, her anxiety piqued. She felt her guard fly up around her, and was immediately alert for any and all dangers.

Mrs Weasley paced the kitchen, alternating between wringing her hands and crying out in frustration. Mr Weasley stood in the middle of her path, attempting and failing to calm her. Sirius and Lupin were at the long kitchen table, avoiding Mrs Weasley's eye and shouted accusations and calls of, "All your fault […] putting ideas in their heads [and] Ron is a prefect!"

"I thought this was a meeting," Poppy whispered quickly, following Bill over to the kitchen table. "Where is everyone?"

"It's more of an intervention," Lupin replied, sliding over a mug of coffee to Poppy, who received the steaming mug with a quick, "Thanks."

"I thought it would be good for her to see another friendly face," Bill replied in a whisper, nodding his head towards Sirius, indicating that he was not a friendly face. Poppy assumed whatever it was, Sirius was on Ron's side. "I said we're just waiting for an 'in'," Bill said a little louder, when Sirius narrowed his eyes at him. "Or until Tonks and Kingsley get back. They've gone to see if they can get any more details."

"Details about what?" Poppy asked waving her hand in the air to remind him of the urgency of the situation. Or rather, to try to show how stressful she was already finding the situation.

"Harry, Ron and Hermione have decided to start a new kind of Defence Against the Dark Arts club," Sirius said, his tone betraying his happiness at the scheme. "'Dung overhead them at The Hog's Head yesterday afternoon. Loads of kids turned up to hear about it including Fred, George and Ginny."

"Oh," Poppy said, frowning, her guard dropping an inch. "Isn't that good, consider-"

Bill's hand clamped over her mouth, but the damage was already done. A squeal to rival Mrs Black's made its way from Mrs Weasley's mouth, and Poppy's eyes widened at the Weasley matriarch, whose eyes seemed to bulge from her head, her usually pale skin turning redder than Poppy had seen it since the previous summer when Mrs Weasley had screamed at Fred and George for playing their prank on Harry's cousin, Dudley.

"Good?!" Mrs Weasley cried.

"Now you've done it," Bill said with a groan, lowering his hand. "She was just starting to calm down."

"That was calm?" Poppy asked, her eyes still wide as she stared at Mrs Weasley who, rather than continuing on to a verbal tirade, descended into loud sobs, which were interrupted by barely indistinguishable words like, "Just want them to be safe […] why are they being so stupid [and] why would they do this to me?"

It took an hour for Mrs Weasley to return to usual herself. Or a very sad version at least.

And then, her eventual solace came from an unlikely source.

The moment she allowed Arthur to guide her into a chair at the head of the kitchen table, Sirius made his way to the pantry, emerging with a bottle of butterbeer which he uncorked and handed to Mrs Weasley, placing a calming hand on her shoulder.

"They're scared, just like you are," he said, sitting down next to her. "You've heard what the Ministry are doing. They're restricting things at Hogwarts. They didn't even do that when we were at school and that was the height of the last war."

"B-but it's even more dangerous n- now," Mrs Weasley sobbed.

"Is it? Or are they just more sheltered than we were?" Sirius asked. "We knew what war was by the time we were their age. Kids called out of class to find their families gone. Death Eaters in training roaming the halls. Yes, they weren't hiding like they are now, and yes, we knew who they were even if we couldn't name them in the courts, but it was scarier then because we didn't have the upper hand that we do now. If you ask me, it's less dangerous now.

"And Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, they're not like Bill or Poppy here who remember what the last war was like-"

"I'm a Muggle-born," Poppy interjected absentmindedly. "Sorry," she whispered when Sirius frowned at her.

"'course," Sirius continued, shaking his head, "sorry. Fine, they're not like Bill or Charlie. Their earliest memories are of celebrating Voldemort's demise, or revelling in peacetime."

Mrs Weasley winced at Voldemort's name, but Mr Weasley barely moved. He seemed to be just as surprised by Sirius' wisdom and his wife's reception of it.

"Maybe what they need is a guiding hand. Someone to talk them round?" Sirius said, calmly.

"Like-like who?" Mrs Weasley asked, hiccuping, her sobs slowing down.

"Like you," Sirius said, leaning forwards on his elbows.

Poppy turned to Bill. Were they hearing Sirius right, she wondered. Bill looked equally confused.

"They don't listen to me," Mrs Weasley said, hiccuping again. "Just like P- P- Per-"

Mr Weasley swore under his breath.

Before Mrs Weasley could begin her descent into sobs again, Sirius said loudly, "How about I add a little shot of this," he said, pulling a small silver flask from his pocket, "and we talk about something else until Kingsley and Tonks get back?"

"That sound- that sounds-" Mrs Weasley said.

"Like a brilliant idea," Mr Weasley replied stiffly. "Someone must have some good news to share?" he asked, looking pointedly at Poppy, who avoided his gaze, refusing to bring up her grades.

The kitchen fell into an uncomfortable silence, punctured by Mrs Weasley's loud and inconsistent gasps, as no one decided that they had good enough news to share.

"Oh thank Merlin," Mr Weasley said at the sound of the front door opening a few minutes later.

Moody walked into the kitchen first, his wooden leg and staff clunking on the flagstone floor.

Poppy's reaction was uncontrollable. She sat to attention, her hand slipped into her pocket to grasp her wand, her eyes fixed on Moody's movements, and her heart began to race.

She hadn't heard that echoing clunk since she'd been attacked by Barty Crouch Jnr, who had been pretending to be Moody, at the end of her last school year less than four months ago.

Her leg, which still ached on and off due to her injuries that day, began to throb uncomfortably, and her mind raced, remembering the times Barty Crouch Jnr (with the face of Moody) had tortured her under the pretence of preparing her for Auror training.

Suddenly, the sound was gone but Moody continued to limp along.

Bill asked under his breath, "You alright?"

Poppy didn't answer. Instead, she continued to watch Moody closely. His electric blue eye was fixed on her. Once he sat down, he placed his own wand on the table in front of him and nodded.

"Thanks," she said quietly, her heart rate beginning to slow.

"Don't mention it," Moody replied. "Didn't realise you were here or I would have done it earlier."

Even Mrs Weasley, who was still crying quietly now, watched the two closely, her teary and bloodshot eyes darting between Moody and Poppy quickly.

"I think we found out next topic of distraction," Sirius said, frowning between the two. He took a deep swig from his flask.

Poppy opened and closed her mouth but shook her head, choosing instead to do as Moody had done and place her wand on the table in front of her.

"P-Poppy, you do know it wasn't Alastor teaching you last year, don't you?" Mrs Weasley asked quietly. "That it wasn't him who… attacked you."

Poppy bit her lip and tried not to roll her eyes.

"She's not angry and afraid from the deception, Molly," Moody growled out, "or the attack. That one at least." He reached into his coat pocket and stilled when Poppy involuntarily reached for her wand. "I'm getting a drink," he said, slowly withdrawing a flask.

Still, Poppy kept her hand on her wand.

"Now Poppy," Mrs Weasley said, her usual voice returning quickly. It seemed this was what she needed to snap out of her upset over the Defence Against the Dark Arts club.

Poppy took a deep breath in and slowly let it out.

"It's fine, Molly," Moody said. He took a swig of his drink. "We have an understanding."

"But it wasn't you who-" Mrs Weasley tried.

Moody let out a low growl and Poppy, who was just beginning to get control over her breathing again, had to focus on taking in long breaths, as her anxiety spiked once more.

"You'll be alright in a bit," Moody said, glaring at the table. His electric blue eye remained on Poppy, but his other, natural, eye looked away.

Eventually, Poppy had calmed enough to apologise to Moody. She didn't want to, but she could feel the pressure from the confused audience around them, and worried that they would think less of her if she didn't.

He surprised her by saying, "Don't. I still can't hear someone so much as move their bin without thinking an attack's on the way."

Poppy nodded. When she looked up, she realised that most of the inhabitants of the kitchen were still staring at her, silently asking what was going on.

Poppy sighed. She didn't want to explain what had happened. She'd thought back on it so many times now and still couldn't figure out why she hadn't been strong enough to report fake-Moody for using the Cruciatus Curse on her, and she definitely didn't want to confront what had happened in that moment. Not when she hadn't even had the chance to talk to Charlie about it properly yet.

"You didn't tell them did you?" Moody asked.

Poppy didn't answer, but when he pushed, she replied quietly, "I just assumed…"

At this point, she'd just assumed that Ginny had revealed the whole contents of the letter to her family. She knew that Charlie wouldn't have broken her trust like that.

"That scum made her duel him and tortured-" Moody said.

"Don't," Poppy said, cutting over him. She blinked rapidly. For some reason, she didn't want everyone to know more. Didn't want them to know how stupid she'd been. Didn't want them to know how long she'd let the torture sessions go on for.

She didn't just feel hurt by what had happened any more, she realised in that moment - she felt embarrassed and ashamed. She should have seen that it was wholly wrong, what was happening to her. She should have made more of a fuss, but she'd been so convinced that Dumbledore knew, and that fake-Moody would rescind his letter of recommendation if she said something. Been so convinced that she needed to be able to duel like that to be a proper Auror that she'd not listened to her own gut.

She wouldn't make that mistake again, but she felt horrified at herself for making that mistake even once.

Moody scowled. "The truth will set you free."

"No it won't," Poppy said, shaking her head. Though the damage was done. She knew no one would think she had tortured anyone or anything. And she could already feel their pitying gazes.

They fell into another uncomfortable silence.

"Have you told anyone what happened?" Bill asked after a while.

Poppy nodded. There was no way around this question. Bill would just ask again at home. "I told Esther at the time. She told me to go to Dumbledore. I was trying to send a letter to Charlie which mentioned it when I was attacked in the Owlery. That's how Ginny found out. She read it."

Mrs Weasley let out a horrified gasp, and for the first time, Poppy realised that not everyone knew the exact details of why she'd ended up at the bottom of the Owlery stairs less than a week before the Triwizard Tournament. It seemed they had heard what she'd hastily explained to Dumbledore in the Hospital Wing, and not asked more questions.

Poppy decided to continue, as everyone knew now anyway; "My guess is Crouch didn't know that Charlie lived in Romania so wouldn't get the letter for a few days, and we were so close to the Final Task that he couldn't take any chances…" She trailed off. They all now knew what happened next.

Again, the silence was deafening.

It seemed as though they were waiting for someone to say something. Or for Poppy to elaborate, perhaps. But Poppy out-lasted them all. She'd said everything she wanted to. Moody had said the rest.

Finally, Mr Weasley asked weakly, "How was your exam?"

Poppy tried not to laugh. The question and tone had had the feeling of someone who had absolutely no idea what to say, and couldn't think of anything to diffuse the tension.

She sighed deeply and rubbed her face then glanced at the door, wishing she could just leave.

Bill answered for her. "I wouldn't, dad…"

Poppy shook her head to try and shake her ill feeling. She relaxed her expression. "It's alright," she said. "How about this. Sirius will give a galleon to whoever guesses my grade."

Sirius snorted. "Why me?" he asked, though she could hear the smile in his voice. She wasn't sure if he was truly amused, or now a little tipsy. In any case, she knew she'd picked the right person to help her dig them all out of the funk Moody had created.

"Earlier you pulled a solid silver fourteenth century goblin-made flask out of your pocket and I'm guessing the liquid inside isn't your bog standard Bogdin's Firewhiskey. I'm pretty sure you're not penny pinching," she said. The smile slid from her face when she saw that Sirius was frowning. "Sorry," she said quickly.

"No," Sirius said, smiling brightly a moment later. "I just haven't heard that phrase in a long time. 'Penny-pinching'… it's a very Muggle-born thing to say. Can't believe I didn't realise before. How did you know it was fourteenth-century?" he asked, seemingly impressed.

Poppy smiled sadly. "Worked as a cataloguer this summer, didn't I?" she asked.

Sirius nodded and then took a swig of his flask. "Alright, I'll bite. A galleon for anyone who gets her grade right."

Tonks grinned and her hair turned from blue to pink. "Well, it can't have been that bad as you're still in the programme, aren't you?" she asked eagerly. "Are we allowed to ask questions?"

Poppy nodded, grateful that Tonks had risen to the task so quickly.

"I got an O for mine personally. Pretty sure the last half of the paper tripped me up," Tonks rambled, "literally. I needed the loo halfway through and tripped over the chair on the way out. Came back to find I'd knocked over my ink pot. Massive splodge on the page and it'd seeped into the rest of the parchment roll. They wouldn't let me vanish it so that was that, and-"

"Get on with it would you?" Moody said impatiently.

Tonks' smile broadened and she laughed at Moody. "In a hurry are we? Alright," she said, turning back to Poppy, "first question. Did you finish the exam?"

"Er- well, I think- well it's all a bit of a blur really," Poppy replied slowly, thinking. "But yeah… I'm pretty sure I finished."

"I think she's being modest. My guess is a 'P'. If I'm right, you're in good company, Poppy," Kingsley said, grinning.

"Of course you got a 'P'! Bloody hell Kingsley!" Tonks replied, laughing.

"Well, I did go out the night before the exam so I can't complain too much." He turned to Bill and winked. "It was during my party days."

"Well?" Bill asked Poppy. "Have you been avoiding telling us about a 'P'?"

Poppy felt blood rush to her cheeks and she shook her head as an embarrassed smile crept onto her face. It felt silly now - here she was, worrying about not getting an 'O', when Kingsley got a 'P'.

"Nope," Poppy said quietly.

"Merlin. You didn't get a 'D' did you?" Moody growled out.

"You think she got a 'D'?" Tonks asked with a laugh. Though her eyes darted to Poppy, as if double checking how outraged she should be on Poppy's behalf.

"Uh no-" Poppy said.

"Well you can't have got a 'U'," Tonks said quickly, her amused smile dropping. "That's grounds for removal."

"No, I-"

"'N' eh?" Moody asked. "Well, not bad all things considered," he said, shaking his head. "Told you we shouldn't have put her on duty just before her exam," he said, narrowing his eyes at Kingsley who shrugged.

"What's an 'N'? Do you mean a no results grade or something?" Poppy asked, trying to work out what they meant. "But no."

"I'll bet you got an 'A'," Mr Weasley said encouragingly. "Charlie's told us how good you are. I'm sure you're capable of it."

Poppy smiled gratefully. If Mr Weasley thought an 'A' for her first exam was good, that would mean that she was worried over nothing. "Give the man a galleon," she said to Sirius.

Moody's eyes widened, and Poppy was sure that Tonks stopped breathing.

"You got an 'A'?" the pink haired witch asked, leaning forwards.

Poppy moved back slightly and sent a pleading look to Bill, but he was already laughing.

"Kingsley got a 'P'," Poppy pointed out quickly, but soon enough everyone was laughing.

It appeared that this what they needed in order for the tension to break, and Poppy was hopeful that they would remember this next time they thought of her, and not what Moody had revealed to them.

"It's really not that bad!" Poppy complained, "I got a sixty-seven. The examiner said it was a mid-range 'A'."

But this only made them laugh harder, and Poppy fell into a silent mood. It was only when Mrs Weasley shushed them all that they began to sober up and catch their breath.

Poppy wished that she could have joined them in their laughter, but she couldn't - she was still too shaken from Moody's leg against the flagstone floor, and too miffed now at their reactions.

"Well done," the Weasley Matriarch said, kindly, seemingly snapped out of her sadness at the opportunity to offer Poppy parent-like advice. "But don't let this go to your head. There are plenty more exams ahead of you."

Poppy nodded solemnly. "I know. I'm going to aim for an 'O' next time."

"Well, I'd say aim high. Another 'A' would be brilliant, but if you get an 'O' that's good too," Mrs Weasley replied.

Poppy shrugged. She didn't want to still be sulking, but she also didn't want to be in that kitchen any more. She wondered how her Sunday would have gone if Bill hadn't come to fetch her. She made a mental note to write to Charlie. That always made her feel better.

"Poppy," Tonks said, leaning in, grinning. "I'm guessing you didn't read the grading pamphlet in your pack?"

"What pack?" Poppy asked.

"The one you get when you start. Tells you the pass and fail marks, what your schedule will be for exams, reading list and stuff?" Tonks questioned again.

"I didn't get anything apart from my uniform when I started," Poppy replied, shifting slightly in her seat. "Scrimgeour just said, 'if I see a 'D' or lower from you, you're out. Don't make a mockery of this programme, Jacobs,' and sent me on my way, so I've just been winging it really."

Poppy looked at the horrified faces around her, one by one. "No?" she asked.

Kingsley recovered first. "You've been… winging it? Without a reading list?"

"Well, Tonks gave me some books," Poppy said quickly, "I bought a load from Flourish and Blotts and uh… well, evil-Moody -"

"Still not happy with that name. Just say 'scum', like I do," Moody grumbled.

"-gave me a book list that, as it turns out, wasn't all that bad," Poppy concluded.

She didn't miss the awkward shared glances as the others tried to hide their worried and pitying gazes.

"Well, we'll make sure you get that pack next time you're in the office," Kingsley said in his slow, reassuring voice, "and in the meantime, 'U' is unteachable, 'D' is Dreadful, 'N' is Newbie. Passing grades are 'O' for Ordinary, 'P' for Promising, and 'A' for Auror. Marks are all out of seventy."

Poppy's jaw dropped open at his words.

Mrs Weasley, keen for a task to take her mind off her children's school rebellion and Poppy's revelation, jumped to her feet and announced that she'd make a cake to celebrate.

Poppy tried to escape, but wasn't allowed to. In fact, it took an hour and many stunted conversations before they finally let her go home.

Later that day, when she was safely back in her flat, Poppy asked Bill (who'd popped over to spend the night with Fleur) if she was silly for not knowing that grades changed after Hogwarts, but he sent her a kind smile and shook his head.

"Nah, it's not something most people would know. Moody explained it all to us before your exam. Told us to be nice to you if you got an 'N' or something."

That made her feel a little bit better and she wondered if she'd find the strength to thank Moody.

"Sorry about Mum," Bill said. "We've all just assumed you didn't like Moody for some reason. We didn't realise…"

Poppy didn't say anything. She didn't want to reward their nosiness, or continue a conversation about her injuries and experiences. It wasn't like he was Charlie, who she felt comfortable talking to about anything and everything.

"Speaking of… well, how much does Charlie know?" he asked, quietly.

Poppy averted her gaze. "Enough," she said, crossing her arms at her chest. "Why?"

"I uh- I was a bit hard on him this summer about…" he trailed off, and began absentmindedly playing with the fang which dangled from his earring. "Well, it just makes more sense now…"

Poppy frowned. She wanted to ask what he meant, but she didn't want to engage the conversation further.

They stood there for a moment, and Poppy could tell that he wanted to say something else, something, she assumed, about why she hadn't mentioned it to him earlier. Or to Fleur. But there was a tap at the window and Poppy turned to see a large eagle-owl perched there.

She was grateful for the imposing bird's timing.

Fleur reached the window before she did and, once she'd taken the letter from the owl which flew away immediately, turned and asked, "Margaret? Who is Margaret?"

Poppy smiled and took the letter, holding it to her chest. "It's me. It's a, uh, nickname," she said, not wanting to explain about the fact that it was her real name.

She took the letter to her room, cuddled up under her duvet, and opened Charlie's letter which said;

Margaret,

You're such a swot.

The Welsh Green misses you too.

Hatching's going well but keeping us all busy. I might not have much time off until January with the way it's all going over here.

I'll keep you posted.

Charlie.

Poppy's happiness over Charlie's letter was dampened by the news that he might not be able to come back to England - come back to her - until January, but she calmed that feeling by summoning a piece of parchment and a quill, which she used to write him a reply.

She told him that his family knew what had happened to her, referring to it as a 'fall', and warned that his mum might send a howler because he didn't tell her everything over the summer. She also asked if he could get his family to not talk to her about what had happened. She wasn't strong enough for that to become a regular topic of conversation.

She thought about writing about Ron and Ginny's new Defence club, but couldn't figure out how to word it. The general decision had been that Sirius would speak to Ron, Harry and Hermione about the whole thing via Floo at some point, and Mrs Weasley would prepare a small speech for him to regurgitate.

It had surprised them all that Mrs Weasley had agreed to Sirius doing this, as it would mean him breaking his house-bound imprisonment, but Mrs Weasley had said that if Sirius told them not to do it, they would listen to him.

Poppy had a sneaking suspicion that he would tell them what Mrs Weasley had said, but then tell them to ignore her and to do it anyway.

But still, she couldn't write any of that in her letter to Charlie. So she simply said that she had a lot to update him on next time she saw him.

That night, she went to sleep in a bittersweet haze. Her grade meant that Scrimgeour would have to admit that she was a good hire, and wasn't talentless. It was also one large step towards Moody trusting her with more missions, surveillance and duties for the Order. But that also meant one large step towards having to spend even more time with the older ex-Auror.

She decided that she needed to get her emotions under control again, and if she wouldn't see Charlie for months, she would have to throw herself even more into work to distract herself.