The next morning, Poppy made a visit to Percy who, rather than being annoyed to have an unannounced guest, welcomed her inside his flat for some brunch.

Percy seemed to be in good spirits, which confused Poppy slightly, but she accepted a mug of tea nevertheless and waited for Percy to ask if she'd heard about Mr Weasley.

"Notice anything?" Percy asked, nodding his head to indicate behind her.

Poppy held her mug in both hands and looked to the corner of his living room, where she saw a large tree adorned with lights and tinsel. There was a small pile of gifts under it, but not enough for his brothers and sisters, and nothing wrapped in Weasley paper.

"What do you think?" Percy asked, smiling broadly as he began to slice clementines with a large knife.

"Of…?" Poppy asked, turning back to the bespectacled Weasley.

"The tree of course. Poppy, that's a Norway Spruce!" Percy said with a laugh, pausing his work. He looked at Poppy as though she had grown two heads when she didn't immediately react.

"Oh- oh. Oh! Sorry, yes. Of course. A Norway Spruce. Of course," Poppy said, smiling apologetically. "They're uh- very…" Poppy looked back at the tree and frowned. She had to think of something which Percy would take pride in. "Expensive?" she said finally, turning back to Percy.

Percy seemed happy with his compliment and nodded. A moment later, the careful and precise rhythm of his cutting resumed and Poppy let out a long breath.

"I happened to mention to Mr Fudge that I hadn't found the time to decorate yet due to how busy the office has become, and he himself gifted me that only yesterday," he said proudly, puffing out his chest.

Poppy forced a smile onto her face. "It's wonderful, Percy. And that's wonderful. You must be doing very well for him to gift you something so beautiful," she said.

Percy's smile broadened and he nodded. "I thought the same. Can you believe that last year I was tasked with felling a tree in the Orchard, and this year I have a Norway Spruce?" Percy said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Poppy bit her tongue so that she wouldn't comment that she would have loved to see a Weasley tree, or wonder aloud how many times Percy call the tree by its full name, rather than simply referring to it as a Christmas tree.

"Does he have one at his house as well? To share with his uh- family? Does Mr Fudge have a family?" Poppy asked, trying to find a way of steering the conversation in the general direction of parents.

Percy shook his head. "It's nice of you to ask, I'm sure Mr Fudge will take kindly to your good wishes," he said.

Poppy narrowed her eyes, unsure where these supposed wishes came from.

"But no, unfortunately Mr Fudge was more concerned with his career in his early years and far too busy towards the latter," Percy said, moving onto preparing a large bowl filled with pomegranates. He shook his head as if disappointed.

Poppy jumped on the chance. "So you'd want to prioritise family?" Poppy asked, placing her mug down on the counter.

"Perhaps," Percy said. "I would have to find the right partner, and I am finding that somewhat difficult with work as busy as it is."

"Well… well what about the family that you do have? Have you spoken-"

"Poppy," Percy interrupted with a sigh as he placed the pomegranate he was deseeding down. "As you know, I am not on speaking terms with-"

"You heard what happened? To your dad?" she asked, trying to control her tone.

Percy pursed his lips and let out a long breath through his nose. "Yes," he said finally, avoiding her eye.

"Have you checked on him?" Poppy asked.

She ducked her head to try and catch his eye. Percy chose to turn away completely.

"You know he's still in the hospital?" Poppy said.

"Yes," Percy said exasperatedly, "and I'd like to know what he was doing sleeping at the Ministry. And with a dangerous creature in his office to boot! Absolutely ridiculous," he added, shaking his head.

He turned back around and waved his wand. A pile of vegetables lying on a board by the sink wriggled themselves onto a baking tray and slid into the oven. The door shut behind them.

"He's really ill," Poppy said. "I've been to see him-"

"What? You've- When- why?" he spluttered, staring at her with wide eyes.

"A few days ago. And maybe because Ginny's a close friend of mine?" she asked, knowing that Ginny's mention would get through to him.

Poppy was lying, of course. She hadn't been to see Mr Weasley yet, it was too dangerous while she was on the clock. But how else could she know as much about his condition otherwise? She needed to continue the pretence that she wasn't in regular contact with Percy's entire family.

Poppy forced her tone to remain sympathetic. "And I know that whether you're pretending not to care or not, you do. And-"

"I don't," Percy replied, rolling his eyes. He returned to his preparation. "Until he apologizes for-"

"For what?" Poppy asked. She reached over the counter and placed her hand on his forearm to stop his preoccupation. "Percy. What do you want him to apologise for? Don't you want to bury the hatchet? He could deteriorate and the last thing he'll hear from you is that you hate him and don't believe his word."

Percy stared at her, wide eyed, his breathing heavy. "You don't mean to tell me that you believe him?"

Poppy's stomach dropped. In her anger she'd almost given away her position. "No, of course not," she lied. "But Percy," she said, struggling to keep her voice calm and steady. "Last summer when we fought against those… those Death Eaters, you ran to the aid of those Muggles just like me. They weren't your family, but we fought alongside each other to help them and you didn't know them. And now you're saying you won't visit your dad in hospital because of something he believes but you don't. He could be dying, and you're just standing here making brunch."

Percy appraised her for a long moment, and then sighed, shook his head, and began his prep again. Poppy let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

"That was different," Percy muttered.

"Why? Because those Muggles didn't stop being tortured half-to-death to tell you if they believed Dumbledore or not?" Poppy asked, trying to get him to see the ridiculousness of the situation.

"For- for- for Merlin's sake, Poppy. It's Christmas Eve. Must we talk about this?" Percy asked, peering through his glasses at her. He placed a hand on top of hers. "Now is a time for celebration."

Poppy, uncomfortable now at his touch, withdrew her hand and placed her palm to her forehead. They sat in silence for a moment until Percy struck up a conversation about his work which Poppy half listened to.

It took her five minutes of trying to bring up Mr Weasley again before she decided that she'd tried to get Percy to see sense enough. He wasn't budging.

She could go back to Mrs Weasley and tell her that she tried.

"I need to leave," Poppy said quietly, repeating it louder when Percy didn't hear her properly.

"Why?" Percy asked, frowning. "Brunch is almost ready."

"Because," Poppy replied, standing and summoning her cloak, "I just think that Christmas is the time of year when you need to be with your family. So I have to go."

"Oh," Percy said, looking stunned. "Well, say hello to Mr Jacobs for me," he said, watching her leave.

Poppy didn't correct him.

She was grateful that Percy hadn't been there when Fred, George, Bill and Charlie and their mum had found out just how removed Poppy was from her own family. She worried now that Percy would use it as a way of bonding them further. But in Poppy's eyes, her reality made them further apart - she didn't choose to not have a family, while Percy had a wonderful and brave one that he was neglecting and choosing to throw away. And for what?

Instead of going back to her flat, Poppy went straight to St Mungo's and slipped past the reception Witch so that no one would record her visit.

"Poppy!" Mr Weasley said happily when Poppy snuck into his ward room. He struggled to sit up a bit and she helped him to prop up against his pillows. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Poppy smiled and moved to sit in the chair by his bed. What was she doing here? She hadn't really thought, she'd just felt that a visit was right.

Maybe, she thought as she settled down, she didn't want Mr Weasley to be alone in hospital on Christmas Eve. She didn't have family to go to. And he couldn't have his visit at all hours of the day.

And he was a good father. A kind father. Maybe he deserved a little extra company in lieu of a son who wouldn't get his head out of his arse long enough to care.

"I don't know really…" Poppy mumbled after a while, "is it okay that I'm here?"

"Of course. Happy to see you again. You just missed Molly and the kids though," he added, frowning. "I'm sure you can catch them up."

"That's okay. I came to see you. See how you were. What's the update?" Poppy asked, summoning his chart from the hook on the end of his bed.

Mr Weasley explained while she read, and then asked if she'd heard of a Muggle thing called, "Stitches."

Poppy hummed and tapped her left eyebrow without looking up from his chart. "Fell down the stairs when I was a little girl. Hit my head on the radiator at the bottom. I can't remember how many, but I needed some."

"What were they like?" Mr Weasley asked, interestedly, peering at her forehead. "I can't see…"

Poppy frowned and looked up from the chart. "Uh, here," she said, moving closer and pointing to where she knew there was a small, tiny scar. "It was larger but I grew, and it healed well. I can't remember it properly though. Just that I had to wear a bandage after."

"Amazing. Absolutely amazing," Mr Weasley muttered.

"Wait," Poppy asked a moment later, narrowing her eyes, sitting back in her chair, "why?"

"Oh, no reason," Mr Weasley replied shiftily. "Just something someone mentioned."

"You know they won't work on your wounds, right?" Poppy asked, watching Mr Weasley closely. "The you know, venom, will melt them." Poppy knew this much from her Care of Magical Creatures NEWT exam which covered bites.

Mr Weasley settled back against his pillow and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes this time. "I know."

Poppy hummed again, suspiciously this time, and looked back at his chart. After a while she placed it back at the end of his bed and returned to her seat.

"Well? What's the verdict?" Mr Weasley asked jovially.

Poppy smiled. "You'll live. For now," she added in a teasing voice. "So who's been to visit today?"

Mr Weasley smiled kindly. "Ah good. Would be a shame otherwise. Today was Bill, the kids, Molly, Moody, Tonks and Lupin," he listed the names in a whisper, his eyes darting to make sure the two other inhabitants on the ward weren't listening.

"No Charlie yet?" Poppy asked, frowning. She'd not expected a reply to her recent letters, not with all of this going on, and she didn't think that Charlie would tell her when he got back to London if he was only coming for a quick visit. "Molly said he was trying to come over."

Mr Weasley shifted uncomfortably in his bed. "There's only so much we can put into a letter, and well, he wouldn't have been able to get any real time off work, so I-"

"Told him that everything was fine and it wasn't that bad?" Poppy asked quickly. "Mr Weasley! What if-"

"I'm fine. If I start to go downhill, of course we'll summon him," he reasoned.

"So he knows it's bad enough for you to still be in the hospital but not everything that happened?" Poppy asked with a sympathetic whine.

Poor Charlie, she thought.

Mr Weasley nodded. "I know you two are friends so thank you for your concern. But he'll be fine."

Poppy felt a cold wash over her when Mr Weasley said, "Friends." But she didn't react outwardly.

"Charlie will be back in January and we'll tell him everything then," Mr Weasley said seriously. "No need to worry him too much. And there was no way I could add," he lowered his voice, "snake to the letter."

Poppy sighed and nodded, sinking back into her chair. "Can I tell you something that might make you mad?" she asked. Her eyes filled with tears and she wriggled her nose to stop the pinpricking there.

"Of course," Mr Weasley replied in a caring tone, adjusting himself against his pillows.

"I told Percy you were here," Poppy said quietly, "Mrs Weasley did too. But he's not going to visit."

"Poppy," Mr Weasley said, sternly but in a much calmer voice than Poppy had anticipated.

It still made her heart stop, and she looked down, wringing her hands in front of her.

"I'm sorry," she uttered quietly.

"No," Mr Weasley said with a laugh in his voice. He winced when he moved, and reached out a hand to hold one of hers. "Stop worrying. You're a good young woman. Kind. And a wonderful friend. Just know that Charlie will forgive us for this. Percy… well." His expression turned dark but he squeezed her hand and shook his head.

Poppy smiled awkwardly when Mr Weasley let her hand go and settled himself against his pillows once more.

"Now," he said, smiling, "tell me, what does Christmas Day look like to you this year? Please tell me you're planning something more exciting than visiting me in hospital."

Poppy waited with Mr Weasley for another half an hour, talking and joking, until his Healers came around and she excused herself, wishing him an early Merry Christmas.

She headed home and threw herself across her sofa, planning on having a Christmas Eve nap. But before she knew what she was doing, she found herself in her bedroom, packing a small Muggle backpack.

She took her Muggle and Wizarding passports, a change of clothes, hair conditioner, mascara and the 'Blush Crush' Fred and George had given her, and then she Apparated to Kings Cross Station where she paid forty galleons for an overnight train to Bucharest.

As she tipped her moneybag upside down, pouring out a small pile of gold and silver coins onto the counter, which the teller counted, she thought that while she'd have worried about wasting money before, now she just… didn't.

Like with the rosettes at the World Cup she'd given to Fred and George, she filed this under her emotional spending, and knew she wouldn't regret it. It helped that the witch handed her back half her bag of coins. At least she could still buy snacks on the train ride.

Poppy arrived in Bucharest at four the next afternoon thanks to some delays and the Christmas train service, and then, once she was through border control, she Floo'd to the Sanctuary.

"Craciun Fericit! Joyeux Noël! Merry Christmas!" called a loud and happy voice from behind the main desk which sat in the corner of the dragonstone clad reception hall.

Poppy grinned as she stood from the fireplace, seeing Charlie's best friend and neighbour, Quentin, sitting there.

"Got the short straw?" Poppy asked him, dusting off her coat.

She knew that Quentin, being a Dragonologist himself, was probably bored behind the desk waiting for any visitors, but she was glad it was him there to greet her and not the usual receptionist.

Quentin was dressed more casually than she'd have expected, in a long sleeved top and trousers, half his uniform discarded on the cabinet behind him.

"Poppy!" he said, laughing as he stood and walked towards her.

"Can't believe you remember who I am," Poppy said, half-joking.

Quentin just shook his head, a knowing smile on his face. "How could I forget? Never seen Charlie as talkative as when you were around! But he didn't say you were coming," he said, hugging her when he reached her.

"Doesn't know," Poppy replied, returning his hug awkwardly. She knew him, but not that well. "Spur of the moment thing."

"Well he'll be happy. Very happy," Quentin said, letting her go and stepping back. "He won't stop going on about his birthday present. Don't know how you swung it. The whole French team? C'est magnifique." His smile fell for a moment. "He's been a bit off this week though. You know about his dad?"

Poppy nodded quickly. "It's why I'm here."

He blanched, his face falling, and Poppy shook her head quickly. "All good. All good. Just giving an update," she said.

"Oh thank Merlin," Quentin said with a breathless laugh. "Good. Well, wait behind the desk with me? We're working on a skeleton crew today and there was an issue with the Fireball enclosure. I got the short straw and had to stay. But when everyone gets back we're shoving a big 'closed' sign in front of the fireplace and we're going to have Christmas dinner in the canteen. I'm guessing you're joining us?"

"If that's okay? I heard it was a bring something kind of thing," Poppy replied, pulling a bottle of a Muggle drink called Baileys from her bag. "It's liquid, but-"

"Will be appreciated nonetheless," Quentin said.

He inspected the bottle, and then opened it to give it a smell. Then he poured a little into the lid and tasted it.

"Ooh, that's nice," Quentin said, smiling at the bottle. "Think we can all have a bit of that without getting told off. Well done Pops."

Poppy rolled her eyes. "Pops? Still? Really?"

"What?" Quentin asked with a cheeky grin. "Charlie said under no uncertain terms that 'Bounce' is reserved for him."

Poppy rolled her eyes again and followed Quentin behind the desk, taking off her coat as she went.

They waited, talking together and catching up like old friends, even though they barely knew each other, until the main doors opened and the chatter of a group and a large gust of freezing cold air made its way inside.

"All fine now," someone called, pulling off their balaclava. Poppy recognised her immediately as Sofija, aka Dragan the Younger, the woman Poppy'd met last December during her assessment centre. Sofija had unsuccessfully tried to make Poppy switch to the Dragonologist track.

"This is stupid," Poppy whispered to herself, suddenly feeling foolish for her unexpected visit.

But Quentin heard her and snorted. He called over to Charlie, who pulled off his own balaclava and stopped with a start when he saw Poppy behind the desk.

Poppy stood and waved awkwardly, hoping he'd see the positive side in her grand gesture. She'd thought it would be like when he came to visit her before meetings, but she hadn't banked on him being surrounded by just so many people.

Poppy smiled when Charlie seemed to come to his senses, grinned, and walked towards her with his arms outstretched.

She ignored Quentin and Dragan's whistles, and the laughter of the other four Dragonologists, and joined Charlie, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders.

Despite the fact that his jacket was freezing against her long sleeved t-shirt, the moment Charlie arms wrapped around her middle and she was pulled into a tight embrace, Poppy felt it again. She felt safe. She felt like she was home.

Poppy held Charlie tight and moved one hand to play with the hair on his nape. She listened as Quentin hustled the other Dragonologists off towards the canteen, explaining to Sofija about Baileys - he was trying to convince her to let them all drink it during dinner.

"How long can you stay?" Charlie asked once everyone had left, his voice muffled - his face was buried in her shoulder. He swayed her side to side as he rubbed her back. Poppy practically melted, and let out a hum of happiness.

"I think until tomorrow evening if you're okay with that. I've got to be back at work on the twenty-eighth."

"I'll take it," Charlie said, releasing her just enough to see her face.

"Charlie," Poppy said quietly, pulling out of his embrace. "Your dad. He's-"

Charlie frowned. "Worse than he's letting on. Yeah, I know."

"But he said-" Poppy replied, her eyes widening in surprise at his words.

"He's stable, he's in good spirits, and they'll call me if something happens and he goes downhill," Charlie said quickly, nodding with each point. He held her tightly with one arm and pulled the glove off his spare hand using his teeth, then gently ran his thumb over her cheek.

"I'm sorry," Poppy whispered, leaning into his touch. "I came because-"

"You memorised his chart didn't you?" Charlie asked after letting his glove drop to the floor.

He pulled her even closer to him and his hand slipped from her cheek to the back of her neck.

Poppy groaned and looked apologetic. "Maybe?"

"Right. You, me, dinner tonight. Then you can tell me how bad it is?" Charlie asked, glancing over her head at the corridor that led to the canteen.

"How're you so calm?" Poppy asked, frowning. She moved her hands down to his chest and gripped the lapels of his coat. She was thinking of Percy. There was no way Charlie could be as cavalier about his father, could there? Not Charlie.

"I'm not," Charlie said, his smile dropping.

Poppy felt relief flood through her.

"But Mum owled, Bill sent one of his work friends to update me on their way through to Russia, and Fred and George said they'll keep an eye on mum," Charlie said. "Between Order meetings and trying to recruit I've used up all my leave. I can't get time off until next month, so I have to believe everyone who's telling me he's okay."

Charlie paused and his brow furrowed.

"Should I be worried?" he asked in a whisper. "Tell me to go back right now and I'll do it. I might get reprimanded for not finishing my shift and being late tomorrow, but I'll do it."

"No," Poppy replied, moving a hand to hold his forearm. This touch felt completely different to when she'd placed her hand on Percy's arm just one day ago. This felt right. "No, I can update you, and your family's right. He's out of the woods. He even asked me about stitches!" she added with a small chuckle, looking down.

Poppy smiled when she heard Charlie mutter, "Stitches?" in a confused tone.

"But… but it means I didn't need to come," Poppy whispered, feeling silly now for making the journey. "I'm sorry, I didn't think, I just…"

She trailed off, bit her lip, and continued to avoid his gaze.

Charlie sighed. "No," he said, pulling her into a two armed hug again. "You did. This is the best Christmas present. The best."

"Sure?"

"Positive. Now come on, we've only got an hour and then we're headed back out, and those roasties aren't going to eat themselves."

Poppy laughed loudly and took his proffered arm, linking hers with his as they began their walk towards food, Christmas lights and good company. "How can you still think about potatoes? Ginny told me about Christmas in ninety-one and the roast potato soup…"

Charlie chuckled. "Ah, took me a year or two but they got back in my good graces, don't you worry about that."

"Charlie?" Poppy whispered when they reached the doors to the canteen. When he stopped, she leant forwards and placed a long kiss on his cheek. "I missed you."