Poppy took a deep breath and then rolled her shoulders back and placed her hands in her pockets, moving forwards down the long country lane at what she hoped was an inconspicuous pace.

As she walked, she went through her process once more. She knew that she would be questioned when she arrived - why had she decided to turn up unannounced here, of all places? Why had she not gone to St. Mungo's first? To The Burrow? To Grimmauld Place?

Why had she chosen a house she'd never visited before?

Because no one will be watching us here, she thought as she stopped in front of a large hedge and peered down the lane, trying to listen for any movement around her.

Finally, when she felt comfortable that the coast was clear, Poppy began to walk towards the large detached house in front of her, choosing to walk on the soft grass that led to the red front door, rather than the gravelled driveway.

Poppy's knock at the door went unanswered, and so she tried again. This too went unanswered, and she began to think that she'd arrived at the wrong address. But then she remembered Moody's mantra and rolled her eyes. Of course they wouldn't answer. Especially if she was, as she suspected, late.

And there was the small matter of the fact that she hadn't been invited to the meeting anyway.

Rather than dwell on that point, she went exploring and found the side path easily.

There was a large wooden gate blocking her path to the back of the house.

Poppy pulled out her wand, ready to cast Alohomora, but just as she began to twirl her wand, she decided against it and lowered it to get side.

Looking over her shoulder, she spied the road and beyond that, another Muggle home. If she were to cast a spell, the flash of light might have been seen, alerting nosey Muggle neighbours (or worse) to her presence.

Luckily, there was a foothold in one of the red bricks by the gate and Poppy was sure that if she could use it for leverage, she could jump over without making much noise.

Once up, Poppy waited at the top of the fence for a moment, assessing where to jump down on the other side, choosing to land on the grass again rather than the gravel path.

She thanked herself silently when her thick soled boots thumped heavily on the grass, letting out a squelch which went largely unnoticed amongst the natural sounds of wildlife. If she'd chosen the gravel, she would have alerted the house's inhabitants to her presence.

And Poppy didn't want to do that - she was already beginning to regret her decision to try and find the meeting - what if she had the wrong address and was about to scare the living daylights out of a random person by appearing at their living room window?

Once she was at the back of the house, she crept around, assessing each of the windows for any activity. Poppy was just turning back to the gate, having decided that she must have the wrong house, when one of the curtains on the ground floor window she was nearest shifted slightly. She saw a flicker of light beyond a curtain, and caught a glimpse of a shock of blue hair.

Poppy grinned to herself and moved forwards to knock lightly on the window in the pattern of the Hufflepuff password from her third year at Hogwarts (and Tonks' last). She only waited a second before the curtain was pulled back, bathing her and the patio in light, and Tonks stared out at her.

The blue haired witch's shock turned to amusement within a beat, and then she opened the window and Poppy swung her leg inside.

"Thanks," Poppy whispered, once she was wholly inside what looked to be a large dining room, closing the window behind her.

There was a large wooden table in the middle of the room with numerous filled chairs around it. Still, more stood. Moody and Kingsley stood next to each other at the front, and Poppy, who could not see Dumbledore, assumed that they were leading the meeting. Looking around, Poppy recognised most of the people in the room, though there were one or two who were unknown to her, including a nervous lady who stared at her with big watery eyes.

"Alright?" Poppy asked, smiling at the group of Order members who were silent watching her now. "You didn't answer the front door," she explained.

"It's definitely her, don't worry. She used the Hufflepuff password from my last year," Tonks said with an impressed smile. "Wouldn't have let her in otherwise."

There was a collective breath and then the room relaxed.

"Thought I told you to go straight home," Tonks asked, raising an eyebrow.

Poppy shrugged. "I couldn't just sit there once I knew it was-"

"Ay-ay-ay!" Moody hissed.

Poppy blinked. Oh. They just don't trust me, she thought.

"How did you know we'd be here?" Kingsley asked cautiously.

Poppy cleared her throat nervously. "I guessed?"

"Guessed that we'd go to Kingsley's, maybe I can believe that. But how'd you know where he lives?" Moody questioned, his eyes both focused on her as if a hunter with its prey. "That's a closely guarded secret."

Poppy bit her lip nervously. She didn't really want to explain that bit, but Moody continued to question her.

"It's a long story," she tried, but Moody told her to answer and spare no detail or she'd be out on the street and be lucky if she ever walked again, so she launched into her long deduction;

"Seventh February nineteen-ninety, there was a break-in in the countryside just outside Cambridge, and during the trial Domplins used the defence that he wouldn't have been caught stealing from the Muggle family if an Auror didn't live across the road. Since Kingsley was the arresting Auror I just assumed it was him who lived nearby.

"The address wasn't in The Prophet's article but Kingsley mentioned the traffic sucked last time he thought about driving into the office so he Apparated instead. And he also said that he regularly does fifty mile Apparations. That, alongside the Cambridge link would probably put him living in someplace like Saffron Walden, because that's mostly a Wizarding village.

"And then there was that time that Molly said, 'Safe how you go,' and Kingsley said, 'Thanks. Maybe one day they'll sort out that street light. I hate having to draw the curtains before I use magic,'" she said, putting on a deep voice to emulate Kingsley, "and I remember thinking he must live around Muggles, which ruled out Saffron Walden but opened up the villages around there.

"And then I was doing some research for Fawkler on a property dispute turned nasty in Wendens Ambo and he mentioned that Kingsley had assured them that the Muggles had thought they were fireworks. I mean, he said 'fireporks' but still.

"So then I looked on a map and Wendens Ambo is right next to the motorway after Cambridge and on the way to London. And the name is ridiculous enough that Kingsley might have thought it was a Wizarding town at first and been amused when it wasn't.

"And Kingsley mentioned once that he liked fishing and you said that it was a good thing you didn't need to go far from his house to fish with him because of your leg, and on the map there's a stream at the back of the gardens of a road called Duck Street and a lake as well.

"And then I remembered that Domplins was drunk when he broke into the Muggle house and that he'd thought it was the pub next door that he was breaking into, and it couldn't have been a coincidence that there was a pub across the road from the houses that back onto the stream. So I took a punt that this was the road.

"When I arrived, I saw that the Muggles next door on either side have their lights on and they're watching tele, and there's a little magical 'x' right next to the stone on the road outside this house, so I just… assumed this was Kingsley's."

Poppy sighed deeply, glad that she'd finally finished.

"Told you she'd be a great tracker," Tonks said happily. "Creepy int it?"

"I think I need to move," Kingsley said, nodding. Though Poppy thought he looked mildly impressed.

"Fair enough," Moody said slowly, looking down at the large piece of parchment on the table in front of him. Poppy had the pleasurable feeling that she'd caught him out there, and he couldn't be angry with her. "Arabella, see if you can pop by Privet Drive for a visit. See if they've seen anything out of the ordinary, will you?"

"Can't believe I got away with that one," Poppy whispered to Tonks.

"You didn't," Moody replied, his electric blue eye whizzing in it's socket. "You're going to pick up a guard duty to make up for this."

"Alastor!" exclaimed Emmeline Vance. "That's hardly fair. Not when we've lost Sturgis and almost-"

"Almost lost Arthur? More than fair if you ask me. Time for her to learn to listen to orders," Moody snapped.

"We agreed," said Emmeline, "only experienced-"

"She's got more experience than most of this lot," Moody said, sending a glare at around the room that stopped everyone from complaining any more. "She's being trained to hunt Dark Wizards and she's using her talents to expose the lot of us. What would have happened if she'd been followed?"

"Why would she have been followed?" Tonks asked, crossing her arms. "You weren't, were you?"

"No," Poppy said firmly, trying to keep her voice from quivering. She didn't think she had been.

When it was 'agreed' that she would take on a guard duty, Poppy took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. She thought that Moody was being unfair as well, but she couldn't say anything now. She glanced at Emmeline, who tilted her chin up as if telling Poppy to be strong. Poppy copied the move, and didn't shrink back.

Poppy tuned out for a few minutes due to sheer embarrassment, and began to listen again when Moody moved on to explain their current understanding of what had happened to Mr Weasley.

It seemed that he had been on guard duty when what they assumed was Voldemort's snake had attacked him. He'd fallen asleep and his invisibility cloak had slipped off him. He was in hospital currently, and it was, contrary to what they were telling the children, still rather touch and go.

Poppy blanched. Moody really did want to teach her a lesson if he was going to make her stand all night in the same place Mr Weasley had been attacked.

"Shouldn't Harry have stayed at Hogwarts?" someone asked, as if they weren't surprised by the specifics of what Mr Weasley had gone through. "If there's a snake on the loose doing You-Know-Who's bidding, we should be protecting him."

"It's more complicated than that," Moody said, shaking his head. "There was more to it."

"Like what?" Poppy asked, finding her voice.

"It's need to know. And you don't. All you do is that Potter's safest at headquarters," Moody answered.

Poppy crossed her arms at her chest and mumbled, "I'll just ask Ginny then."

Moody rolled his eyes. "She's a child. She won't know-"

"Voldemort underestimated a baby and now we're here. You really think a fourteen year old girl whose brother's best friends with Harry Potter, and whose dad was just attacked won't know more about what happened than you do?" Poppy asked defiantly, unblinking as she stared Moody down.

She tried to hide the fact that she was shaking from the effort of speaking with the weight of her stupidity on her shoulders, but then she felt her anger overtake her.

What was left of Moody's nose raised, as if he was taking a deep breath to keep himself calm. His normal eye twitched.

"To go back to Frank's point, Dumbledore's gone," Dedalus Diggle piped up, his squeaky voice cutting through the silence of the room. "Hogwarts is safest when Dumbledore's there but he's busy sorting all of this out. Moody's right. Best leave the boy with his friends and Sirius."

"Good. Now, I need shift patterns for the next few days. Molly will want the children taken to Arthur again, and that'll mean a full guard," Kingsley said, marking something on a piece of parchment in front of him.

"Again?" Poppy asked, breaking her eye contact with Moody suddenly. She knew it would anger him further, that she was the one to break it an me so nonchalantly. She turned to Tonks, who smiled knowingly.

"We took them for a visit earlier today. Ignore Moody. It's always worst case with him. Arthur's doing great. Sitting up and talking and everything. He's in good spirits, but would be better if they could stop the bleeding."

Poppy let out a sigh of relief and allowed herself to smile. "That's good news. That's really good news. From what Fleur said I thought the worst."

"I was afraid of that. I was leaving to help Moody when I saw you stuck in the breakroom so I thought you might need something to keep you going. I thought Bill would have caught you at home," Tonks said, frowning.

Poppy shook her head. "I must've missed him." She explained about Fleur and Tonks rolled her eyes. "She's a bit dramatic isn't she?" Tonks asked.

Poppy, who was a little miffed on Fleur's behalf, defended her friend to a bemused Tonks, who shrugged and apologised. "Ginny doesn't think much of her," she explained.

"Yeah, well, Ginny's going to have to get over that soon I think," Poppy replied, before she was once more told off by Moody for talking while he was, and she narrowed her eyes into a glare which she directed at him for the rest of the meeting.

A few nights later, Poppy stood outside the entrance to the Department of Mysteries, under the cover of the same invisibility cloak which Mr Weasley had been using when he'd been attacked. Moody had been almost gleeful when he'd handed it over and assured her that they'd got the blood and venom out in the wash.

Even though she knew that Voldemort probably wouldn't try to use his snake to enter again, it didn't make her feel any better about her vulnerable position.

Moody had chosen to punish her for ignoring her orders and by the morning Poppy felt that her lesson had been truly learnt.

Poppy spent the whole night standing in her usual corner, propping herself up by the door to the Department. Her fear at every noise, every movement, every portrait shift was paramount.

Her mind was alert more than it had been even on her previous stints in this exact spot. When she felt her eyes drooping she forced herself awake and stared at the spot she knew Mr Weasley had been in.

She thought of him, and imagined what had happened. She knew that this was probably one of those instances when her imagination could not do the horrors of Mr Weasley's reality justice.

By the end of her guard she was exhausted but unable to rest as she swapped her spot stood in the depths of the Ministry for a desk upstairs where she spent hours poring over documents and reporters for active Aurors.

She was just glad that this marked her last shift before the holiday began, as she had four full days off to look forward to.

That night, instead of going home to her empty flat, she made her way next to Grimmauld Place to check in with the Weasleys.

She found only Sirius, Mrs Weasley, Ginny and Hermione in the kitchen, the rest of the family and Harry upstairs, or in hospital.

Poppy quickly found herself plied with chicken pie, potatoes and a large glass filled with Butterbeer, and she relaxed into light conversation while she ate, enjoying her first proper meal in days.

"Are you staying for Christmas?" Sirius asked when Poppy was finished, a broad smile on his face. "The more the merrier. We're almost full but I'm sure we can squeeze a bed into Ginny and Hermione's room." He seemed almost giddy with happiness at this fact.

"Oh, no," Poppy said, shaking her head. She downed her drink.

"Staying with family?" he asked.

Poppy shook her head. She didn't know how to say that she didn't really fancy celebrating Christmas this year. It would be her first out of Hogwarts, and she found the holiday still tainted by her family's disownment just three years previously.

"Is Fleur going to be there?" asked Ginny, piping up from her seat next to Hermione at the table. Poppy noted that she called Fleur by her actual name and not, 'Phlegm,' but that she did so with a hint of disdain.

"Uh, no. She was going to stay but when Bill found out your dad was stable he told her to go back to hers and spend time with her family. He's got work anyway and he wants to spend the rest of his time with you guys or at the hospital."

"So you'll be on your own?" Hermione asked, frowning. "Didn't you say you won't be working over Christmas? Because you're not a full Auror yet?"

Poppy forced a smile onto her face. She'd been planning to lie and to say that she was working. Now she knew she wouldn't be believed.

"I think it'll be nice to have a quiet Christmas on my own," Poppy said, shrugging. Before Hermione could say anything else, Poppy began to compliment Mrs Weasley on the pie she'd been fed, and then began to heap praise onto Sirius, who proudly declared that the food was, in fact, his making.

She waited until Ginny and Hermione retired upstairs some ten minutes later, and then she made her goodbyes to Sirius and Mrs Weasley - so that they wouldn't think she was running away from the conversation.

"Psst," came a voice from above her when she reached the hall. She paused at the bottom of the stairs and listened. The noise sounded again, this time joined by its twin.

Poppy looked up to see Fred and George on the stairs above her, beckoning her up.

"Hey," she whispered when she joined them. She opened her mouth to say that she knew less than they did about their father's condition (the snake bite had continued to defy potions, counter-curses and antidotes so far) but George seemed to understand and shook his head, declaring that now that things had calmed down a bit and they'd fully embraced the Christmas spirit, they wanted to talk, "Business."

She assumed that this was how they were managing to deal with the stress of their father's continued hospital stay. Ginny no longer needed them to be a shoulder of support, and so they turned to something they could control - their future.

Her frown turned to a glare and rolled eyes when Fred said, "Do you feel self conscious about your spots?"

"I do now," she said, reaching a hand up to feel her face.

"Most witches we've interviewed do," George said matter-of-factly. "Especially at your age."

"My age?" Poppy asked, her eyes wide. "I'm only a year older than you!"

"Year and a half," George said, nudging Fred, who produced a little pink bottle from his pocket.

"We've been working on a range of products for the every day witch who's too busy to spend much time on her appearance, but wants to attract-"

"I'm going to strongly advise that you stop there," Poppy said, narrowing her eyes. "Insulting your audience probably isn't the best way to sell products."

"Insulting…? We weren't insulting," Fred said, screwing his face up.

"Was it the everyday witch thing?" George asked, whipping out a piece of parchment and a quill. "Was it too blasé? Because we can change the name. Maybe 'Every Witch'?"

"'Teen Witch'?" Fred countered, and both boys turned to look at each other.

"Nah, reduces the audience… 'Simply Witch'?" George said, shrugging.

"No. Sounds like we're calling them simple," Fred said, rubbing his chin. "We need something complimentary. Think compliments…"

The next moment, they began what Poppy could only describe as a verbal tennis match of compliments.

"Lovely."

"Beautiful."

"Smart."

"Kind."

"What about something starting with a 'W'?" George said. "Keep it on brand. Narrows it down too."

"Genius. Warm?"

"No," George said, shaking his head. "Makes me think of sleeping bags… Wealthy…?"

"Is that a compliment?" Fred asked. "Anyway, no, it's the same as teen. Might limit our audience."

"What about… wondrous."

"Too much. Wonderful… 'Wonderful Witch'?" Fred said.

"Bit of a mouthful but it's the best we've got right now. Maybe 'Wonder Witch'?" George asked.

Fred nodded and both boys turned back to Poppy, their expressions serious.

"Would you buy something called 'Wonder Witch'?" George asked her, leaving forwards.

"Probably…" Poppy said, shrugging. "It's not the worst thing I've heard."

"Perfect. Now, what else put you off about the cream?" he asked, looking down at the product that Fred still held in his hand. "Packaging? Too pink?"

"I think it could be more pink if anything," Fred said, shrugging. "Draws your eye, doesn't it?"

Poppy frowned and shifted on her step, making sure to stay as far away from the numerous beheaded House Elves on the walls. "I didn't even look at the packaging if I'm honest. I was too annoyed at how you framed it."

"Explain?" George said, watching her closely.

"I didn't like the fact that Fred led with, 'You've got spots,' and ended with, 'you obviously don't take care of yourself,' without even saying hello," Poppy said honestly.

Fred frowned. "I didn't say you had spots, I asked if you were conscious about them when you do. And I'd say you take care of yourself. I mean, you're not lacking in-"

Poppy held up her hand to stop him. "Don't finish that. Just maybe lead with something else."

"Got it. Will you try it?" George asked. "We need feedback from someone who's aged out of Hogwarts and we can't ask Mum. The older witch is-"

It was Poppy's glare that silenced George. "I am one and a half years older than you and you're putting me in the same category as your mum?" she asked firmly, as if daring him to keep talking.

"We'll rethink that," George said quickly.

Still, Poppy made her way to the front door with a pocket filled with a spot cream that Fred and George assured her would vanish any blemish in ten seconds, something called 'Blush Crush' which Fred said would add an everyday rose hue to her cheeks that would not only look natural, but stay on for up to three days, and a bruise cream which Fred chucked in as thanks for helping them.

She was almost finished with the numerous locks, when she heard a sniffle behind her and turned to see Mrs Weasley making her way down the hall, looking over her shoulder as if worried she'd be caught.

When she reached Poppy, Poppy realised where the sniffle had come from - Mrs Weasley's eyes were red-rimmed, and she was holding a tissue to her nose. Tears tracked down her face.

"Mrs Weasley, I'm-"

Mrs Weasley waved her off and moved even closer. "I need to ask you to do- to do-" She took a deep, shuddering breath and began to whisper, "I'm doing everything I can to stay positive, but… but… Poppy, if you see… if you see Percy, will you-"

Her face crumpled and Poppy, who was uncomfortable enough already, forced herself to not take another step back. Instead, she placed what she hoped was a calming hand on the Weasley matriarch's arm, and gently rubbed up and down awkwardly.

"Oh bless you," Mrs Weasley said once she'd calmed down again. "Arthur's doing much better, of course he is, but it's been a shock. I just can't stop thinking about Percy. It's not like Charlie. He's written already and we're keeping him informed. He's going to try and pop over, and then he's coming back in early January, did you know?"

Poppy shook her head. She'd not heard. But she was glad he'd found time. She worried about him, being so far away and she knew he'd be there if he could.

"But Per- Percy… He's not visited or written and I keep thinking that he's all alone, wondering what's happened to Arthur and… what if-" Another pause. Another deep breath. "What if he came to The Burrow but I wasn't there? I couldn't- I- Will you speak to him? Tell him that Arthur's okay? Perhaps this will make him see sense. Maybe I'll get my boy ba- ba- back."

Poppy wanted to say no, that she could think of a thousand things she'd rather do, but she couldn't. Not to a woman so distraught.

"Of- of course. I'll go tomorrow," she said, placing a calming hand on Mrs Weasley's arm. "It's okay," she comforted, as tears began to pour down Mrs Weasley's face once more. "I'll go tomorrow."

Ten minutes later, once she'd placed Mrs Weasley into the care of Sirius and a large glass of red wine, Poppy made her exit once more.

This time, it was Ginny who caught her by the front door. "He won't care," she said, her voice quiet, but cutting.

Poppy looked to the kitchen door, beyond which Mrs Weasley sat with Sirius. "You don't know that," she replied cautiously. "Your mum-"

"I do. I do know it. He won't care," Ginny shrugged. "This probably all makes him look bad and that's what he'll say. No matter what mum hopes, it won't work. Just don't let it get to you when you see him. Don't let it ruin your Christmas."

Poppy frowned. She hadn't seen Ginny in months and in that time, Ginny had changed. She'd always been strong, but she'd hardened since returning to Hogwarts.

"You didn't reply to my letters," Poppy said, embarrassed straight away by her obvious neediness.

Ginny looked down, tucked her hair behind her ear and toed the rug with her slipper. "I think they're watching the post. Or they will be. If we're seen writing to each other they might think you're in with us. I can't do that to you. I can't put you in danger."

"You're worried about me?" Poppy asked, frowning at the small red-headed girl.

Ginny didn't answer. Not verbally at least. Instead, her face fell and she clucked her tongue. A moment later her arms were wrapped around Poppy's waist.

It took a beat, but Poppy returned the gesture, and they stood there for a long moment.

"Everything's changed," Ginny whispered against her collar. "I want to tell you about it but I can't write it all down."

Poppy tightened her hold on Ginny. She hadn't realised how long she'd been without a hug like this. There was something so pure about it, and she didn't want to ruin the moment.

Ginny broke the hug first, stepping back against the dark wall. Tears shone on her face.

"He'll be okay," Poppy said quietly. "He really will. The best doctors are working on him."

"I know," Ginny replied, wiping away her tears, ignoring Poppy's use of Doctor instead of Healer.

"You don't always have to be the strong one," Poppy said, placing a hand on Ginny's shoulder, just as she had done for Mrs Weasley minutes before.

"Says you," Ginny retorted. "You keep saying you're fine in your letters but I know you're not."

Poppy inclined her head and smiled.

"You'll come back soon?" Ginny asked. "So we can talk?"

Poppy nodded quickly, and a moment later, found herself on the step outside.

She wasn't sure what made her do it - if it was Mrs Weasley's words, or the ache in her heart for family, but instead of going straight home, she Apparated to the small street in North East London that she'd grown up.

She stood on the corner under cover of mostly darkness - she made sure to lower the light of the street lamp nearest her - and watched her childhood home.

It was a large terraced building, and for the first time in Poppy's life, she saw that it was covered in fairy lights, and there was even a snowman in the window.

It made her inexplicably sad to be there, and yet she stayed until the bitter cold reached her feet and she began to shift uncomfortably in her spot.

Just before she turned to leave, she watched a car drive past her and park outside. She shrank back even more, trying to hide herself from a view she knew they didn't have, and tried to keep her breathing long and slow as her father, step-mum, and siblings began to pile out of a large seven-seater car.

They didn't look like her - her siblings - they took after their shared father and their mum, with pale faces, light brown hair, upturned noses, pink cheeks and blue eyes.

Poppy's features took after her mother, with a few notes of her father - like her freckles, long eyelashes and eye shape.

She wondered why she was still standing there long after the front door closed behind her family. And then a light came on in the topmost front room and she sighed. There it was. What she'd been unable to leave without seeing - her mother's lamp.

It was small, with a green base and a lampshade which rotated, showing a scene from a fairytale.

Poppy smiled sadly. It was still there in the window, as if calling her home.

It was the one thing she coveted of her parents' home, and the one thing her father would notice most if she stole.

Poppy turned on the spot and Apparated away.