After a wonderful and surprisingly fun Christmas dinner, Poppy told Charlie that she'd wait in the entrance hall for his shift to end. Rather than accepting this, Charlie gave Poppy the key to his cottage and told her he'd meet her there once his shift finished.

There were a great number of wolf whistles at his words, which made Poppy roll her eyes and Charlie's ears turn bright red.

It was only when she arrived at the front of a row of small cottages that Poppy realised the extent of Charlie's gesture - she'd not thought about accommodation, and Charlie had sorted that for her without her having to ask.

She wanted to go straight upstairs and have a long sleep in his bed, but she decided not to push her luck. That would be something she'd save up for once Charlie and her relationship had created its full foundation. So instead she unlocked the door and stripped off her coat, boots and bag as she looked around, taking everything in.

Not much had changed in the living room since Poppy's last visit - it was just as small and cosy as it had been before. The kitchen, where she made herself a hot chocolate - she didn't think Charlie would begrudge her this -, was the same as well.

The change was in the study, where the bed Poppy had slept in last Christmas was missing, replaced with Charlie's desk. Papers were neatly stacked here and there, and it looked as though his book collection had grown, incorporating more defensive tomes than before.

Pictures had changed position, frame, or been replaced altogether, and the figurines on display had shifted also.

Poppy sipped her hot chocolate and sat in his desk chair for a little while, looking around, until her focus moved from the bookshelves to the view from the desk through to the living room. She noticed that from the chair she had an excellent view of the front door and both windows.

"Oh Charlie," Poppy whispered.

It made her heart ache to think of his reality - he was here, in Romania, away from his family, trying to recruit international Wizards and Witches, keeping an eye on his front door, just in case. She knew he wouldn't have it any other way - he loved his job, he loved Romania, and he loved his home. But it made her heart skip a beat.

Suddenly she felt as though she was intruding on his life. She moved quickly, closing the study door behind her.

She thought the safest place to sit would be the sofa, so she decided to camp there for the evening. She wasn't sure what time he would finish his work, and quickly regretted not asking him.

Poppy was settled on the sofa with the fiction book she'd brought with her, a fire roaring in the grate, a second hot chocolate half-drunk on the coffee table, making her way through a packet of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans when there was a knock, and then the door opened and Charlie popped his head round.

"Dad said you're not meant to sneak up on Aurors," Charlie said with a wink.

Poppy rolled her eyes in reply and relaxed the hand which had flown to her wand when she'd heard the knock. She watched as he moved inside, closed the door behind him, locking it, and began to strip off his outerwear and boots.

His work complete, he threw himself into his armchair and sighed deeply, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. He took a deep breath and sighed. "Long day," he said quietly.

Poppy watched him, and couldn't help but feel more settled and calm than she had in weeks. She smiled.

"What?" he asked, his ears turning pink when he caught her watching him.

"Come here?" Poppy whispered, beckoning him over.

He didn't need more prompting. She guided him to lie down next to her on the cushions, turning to snuggle into his side. Then she placed the packet of jelly beans on his broad chest.

His chuckle vibrated the packet which jiggled and fell from him, onto the floor. Poppy gasped dramatically and sat up to look down at him.

"You'll pay for this," she said, leaning over to pick up her wand from the coffee table. "Those were eight sickles on the train."

"And you still bought them?" Charlie asked incredulously.

Poppy let out a small laugh. "You forget, I know that you don't buy sweets. You just live off the ones people send you and if you run out you wait until they send you more," Poppy said, waving her wand so that the floor-beans floated onto the table and the ones still in the packet returned to Charlie's chest. "I didn't know what I'd be walking into and fruit doesn't hit the same spot for me."

Charlie sighed happily when Poppy settled back into his side, and the book she was reading floated above them. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in tighter. "Mine," he said, picking her hot chocolate off the table and taking a sip.

Poppy placed her arm across his chest and gave him a squeeze. "Mine," she whispered. If she'd felt any embarrassment or nervousness at this, it washed away the instant Charlie pressed a kiss against the top of her head.

"Now. My Dad. What happened, and how is he really?" he asked, stealing a jelly bean.

"How much do you know?" she asked, suddenly serious.

"Start from the beginning," he said, nodding quickly. "It's okay, I can take it."

Poppy hated being the one to explain everything, but she was glad that he'd be returning to England in January with a full picture - he wouldn't be blind sided.

The colour drained from his face as she spoke, and by the time she'd explained how Mr Weasley was when she saw him the day before, they were sat next to each other on the sofa, her arms hugging her knees to her chest while he sat forwards, his forearms on his knees, his eyes fixed on the waning fire.

"A snake?" Charlie asked after a while, his voice hoarse. Poppy knew it was rhetorical. He began to nod. "There'll be an anti-venom. He'll be alright."

"He will," she whispered.

"Harry… he saw it happen?" Charlie asked.

"That's what Tonks said," Poppy said, frowning.

"How uh…" Charlie cleared his throat and tried again. "How? How did he see it?"

Poppy bit her lip and thought for a moment. "We're not sure," she said slowly, "at least… at least I'm not sure. They're saying he saw it… he saw it from the snake."

Charlie turned his head sharply to look at her in disbelief. "He saw- Has anyone asked him?"

Poppy shook her head. "Not properly. At least I haven't, and everyone's avoiding the issue at the moment. I think he needs time. Tonks said that he holed himself up in the upper rooms of Headquarters for the best part of two days after they first saw your dad in the hospital, he was so horrified by what happened. Thought it was his fault. But Ginny said she and Hermione talked to him about everything and he's coming round. Ginny told me she he wasn't possessed or anything, since he was at Hogwarts still when it all happened."

"Ginny?" Charlie asked, frowning and finally looking at her. "Why would she be trying to…" He narrowed his eyes. "Is she trying to make him feel better because she fancies him?"

Poppy rolled her eyes. "No," she said, "because she was possessed in her first year, wasn't she? If anyone would know what it looked like it would be her."

Charlie nodded slowly. It didn't look as though he'd forgotten that, simply hadn't thought of it in that moment. He looked away, back at the fire.

After a minute or so he sat back and placed his hand to his forehead. "Merlin. He saved Dad's life and I won't be able to thank him."

"Why not?" Poppy asked.

"It's not something I can put in a letter, is it? And I won't see him until the summer. Don't really want to bring all this back up then," Charlie replied. "Not if he's avoiding people over it already."

Poppy smiled and leant over to wrap an arm around his back. She placed her other hand on his thigh, and rested her head on his shoulder.

It felt natural, to touch him and comfort him like this - she didn't have to force the move, didn't second guess herself. She knew he needed this. He placed his hand over hers and they sat there for a few minutes until the clock in the corner chimed, letting them know that it was almost ten.

Charlie sighed deeply. "I'm on an early shift tomorrow," he said quietly.

"I'll uh- I'll go so-"

Charlie let out a loud laugh and moved to stand. "I'll sort your bed before I go up."

Poppy frowned and tilted her head to look up at him. "What do you mean my bed before you go up?" she asked with a cheeky smile. "I told you, your bed's mine now. So if anyone's sleeping downstairs it's you."

The tips of Charlie's ears turned pink, and she saw his cheeks flush red, even under his masses of freckles. "We could share again…" he said somewhat nervously, and Poppy couldn't help but feel a rush of love for him from the fact that he hadn't assumed anything.

"Come on," she whispered, taking his hand and pulling him towards the stairs. She led him to his bedroom and, seeing his pyjama trousers lying on his unmade bed, she changed him with a flick of her wand.

Charlie cleared his throat and Poppy tried not to smile. He stood in front of her, his hands raised, indicating his bare chest, and a cheeky smile on his face. He bit his tongue between his teeth and Poppy let out a small laugh which she hid behind her hand.

"Sorry," she said, trying to focus on his face and not the hard planes of his muscular chest.

It was one thing imagining what he looked like, and another having the reality right in front of her. It had been, she realised, a long time since she'd seen him in person. And a longer time still since she'd allowed herself to do something as normal as check him out.

Her eyes wandered as she thought of the last time she saw him like this - the year before, the night they'd spent together. But everything was different now.

Charlie coughed lightly and Poppy made eye contact, noting that his smile had changed, it was shier, and his eyes twinkled.

Poppy felt her breathing increase and tingles spread from the tip of her head to the bottom of her feet. She was so unused to this feeling. Was she meant to do something? She wanted to move towards him, but he cleared his throat, still staring at her with that look in his eye, and said, "Pyjamas are in the second drawer up."

Blinking rapidly, Poppy averted her gaze and moved to his chest of drawers, squatting to open the indicated drawer.

She chucked a t-shirt at him and took one for herself. She heard a rustle and then he ducked past her, and opened a different drawer to pull out some trousers for her.

Poppy didn't point out that her bag was downstairs with her pyjamas inside, and Charlie didn't bring it up.

She changed and finally they found themselves lying down together in his bed, her head on his shoulder, hand on his chest, his arm around her.

She thought she'd felt safe and content before. It was nothing compared to now.

Charlie traced patterns on the back of her hand and sighed deeply. "Shouldn't you be hugging me? I'm the one whose Dad's in hospital."

He laughed when she shushed him and snuggled closer. The sound made Poppy's heart soar.

"I missed you so much," she said when he rolled them over so that their positions were reversed. She did as he had done and began to trace random patterns on his back.

They stayed like that for a while, until Poppy felt Charlie's breathing slow and she thought he'd fallen asleep, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

She sighed and squeezed him even closer. For the first time in a while she allowed herself to think something potentially childish - thirteen year old Poppy would have wet herself to know nineteen year old her was lying in bed with Charlie Weasley.

"I love you so much," she whispered, craning to place a kiss to his forehead.

Charlie raised his head and gently swept a curl from her cheek.

"Shit," she said, staring at him. "You're awake."

Charlie began to laugh, and buried his face into the crook of her neck again as his shoulders bounced.

After a few long, embarrassing-for-Poppy moments, Charlie propped himself up on his forearm and smiled down at her. He brought his hand to her cheek. "You're not going to tell me you don't think we should be together again, are you?" he asked quietly.

Poppy sighed and shook her head. She held his wrist. "No, not right now anyway."

"I'll take that," Charlie said.

An overwhelming want to kiss his lips came over her. It felt silly, but she found herself at a loss what to do about it. She didn't want to do anything which might… in lieu of a better expression, scare him off - what if she came across too strong? Or on the other hand, too indifferent? Or too experienced? Or inexperienced?

Poppy felt another surge of embarrassment - what if he found that he didn't feel physically as attracted to her once they'd kissed?

Charlie didn't help the situation - while she thought, he stared down at her, his eyebrows furrowed. His eyes moved from her eyes to her lips, and back. It was, for Poppy, most distracting.

She thought back to the last time she'd seen him hesitate like this - it had been last December, as they'd watched Quentin drunkenly try to break into Charlie's house. Back then, he'd whispered, "Not now," and she thought maybe he would again this time.

But she needn't have worried. This time, he asked if he could, and Poppy tried to keep her voice calm as she agreed. Tried not to let her breathing give away how excited she was as he leant in.

Charlie's lips touched hers and her eyes fluttered shut.

Their first kiss wasn't quite what Poppy had expected - before, her kisses had been somewhat awkward and she'd thought about it too much while trying to move her head this way or that, or tried to think of where her hands should be, or wondered when it was appropriate to end the kiss.

But this? It was better. Much, much better. It was intimate, safe, comforting and felt right. She barely thought, apart from commanding one of her hands to bury itself in his hair and the other to hold his bicep to steady herself as she arched her back and pressed her chest to his when he moved over her and deepened the kiss.

He wrapped his arms more securely around her, and Poppy moved her hands to his shoulders, enjoying the closeness as she felt tingles rush through her.

They'd been toying around this for months, not finding the right time to do it. Until this moment they'd been alone but not alone. They'd been together but not able to relax wholly. Now, in Romania, in his quiet house? In the place she first realised how much she'd fallen for him? Perfect.

Charlie's hand moved to her cheek and finally, when he pulled away to stare into her eyes, Poppy sank back against the pillow and smiled up at him.

His fingers settled at the side of her neck, holding her carefully as his thumb gently caressed her cheek.

She was surprised to find herself breathing heavily, but overjoyed to realise that Charlie was the same, a small content smile playing on his lips.

Poppy gently pushed his hair back, and trailed her fingers over his cheek. She was tracing the lines of his face with her eyes when she said something that made Charlie let out a loud laugh; "I've never enjoyed kissing someone before."

Poppy felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she cringed and tried to pull away.

"No," Charlie said, sobering. He braced his arms on either side of her head, "I laughed because I understand what you mean. I wasn't joking when I said that before you, everything came second fiddle to dragons."

Poppy let out a long breath. "I- So I'm up there just below dragons?"

Charlie laughed, and Poppy couldn't help herself from doing the same. She sighed again when he cuddled in, burying his face in her neck once more, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, enjoying his weight on top of her.

While she wasn't sure if Charlie laughed because it was true, or because she was now next to dragons, she decided not to ask him to elaborate. He'd said enough.

She wrapped her arms around him and gently stroked his back.

Poppy smiled when she felt Charlie place a long kiss in the juncture where her neck met her shoulder. She turned her face so that she could whisper into his ear, and slipped one hand up into his hair. "This feels different to anything before. It's…"

Charlie moved up, bracing a forearm next to her head, and smiled and nodded. Poppy let out another long, content breath as his thumb began to caress her cheek once more and he whispered, "I feel the same."

Poppy smiled. "And… and I wish you'd kissed me like this last Christmas."

"I wanted to. But better late than never," Charlie whispered.

And then he leant in once more and Poppy stopped thinking about anything other than Charlie's lips on hers.