Title: Ritual of Becoming
Author: tjs_whatnot
Characters/Pairings: Poppy/Molly
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Alternate Pairing
Other Warnings: Infidelity
Word Count: 6,700
Summary: Molly had lofty ideas of what being in the inner circle of the Order would mean, she just didn’t think it would be more of the same. What she wants is to be needed by someone who appreciates her. Poppy has always appreciated her.
Author's Notes: Thank you mods for working with my tardiness! And also, thank you so much redsnake05 for being so amazing in my last minute panic.



For over a decade now, a year hadn’t gone by without at least one visit by Molly Weasley to the Hogwarts’ hospital wing to visit one of her offspring. Poppy Pomfrey always felt a tiny bit guilty about how much pleasure she received from these visits. But when it was just Bill and Charlie with their broken bones due to daredevil antics and Quidditch accidents, it hadn’t seemed so bad that Poppy looked forward to the mother hen-- still as voluptuous and fiery as she had been in their school days-- bursting into the wing and matching Poppy’s quiet, healing presence with her own boisterous mothering.

But now, now that there was an undertone of dire circumstances, a hanging of life and death at every one of Molly’s visits-- first to visit Ginny who was so young and haunted when she returned from the Chamber of Secrets, then to sit by her youngest son Ron’s bed tutting over him until he cried for her to leave after his mysterious accident at the Shrieking Shack. Finally, now, when Harry lies in his usual bed, shivering and twitchy from his last stand off with He Who Must Not Be Named and watching Mr Diggory’s last moments of life-- the guilt Poppy felt roses her cheeks and sets her blood racing through her veins.

With Molly in the ward, Poppy was relieved of some of her duties-taking a break just long enough to prepare tea for the two of them and to set out a tray of biscuits as they shared stories and updated each other on their lives. It had become an annual thing that Poppy looked forward to all year. Not that she’d wish ill of any of the children in her care. But an injured Weasley was almost as certain as Dumbledore’s self medicating on lemon drops.

“Here you go,” Poppy whispered, sitting the tray on the small table beside Molly’s chair.

“Huh?” Molly murmured, not taking her eyes off Harry’s sleeping form, though Poppy didn’t think she was really seeing the boy at all. She had seemed to be a daze since Dumbledore had ushered Poppy out and had ushered a group of people-- mostly Weasleys-- in.

“Tea.”

“Oh thank you, Poppy. You’re always so good to me.”

Poppy blushed and waved the statement away. “It’s nothing.”

“No,” Molly argued. “It’s not nothing and I appreciate it, and all that you do, immensely.”

Poppy bowed her head and they silently drank their tea. Poppy wanted to say something to make Molly feel better, to take that haunted, scared look from her eyes, but she didn’t know what Dumbledore had told Molly and the rest and she didn’t know why they had all fled and Molly had remained. So, Poppy just sat and waited for Molly to say something, or need something.

They watched Harry sleep.

“You know,” Poppy began in a whisper, when the silence crawled under her skin and made her itch. “It’s times like these, when the world folds in on itself and there is no magic to fix it, no potion to ease it and victims lay here before me; I just feel so useless.”

Molly barked a mirthless laugh and raised her teacup in solidarity. “I understand exactly how you feel.”

“What do you do when you feel that way?” Poppy asked.

“I knit. Cook. Garden. Anything to keep my hands busy. When my hands are busy, my mind stops racing. What about you?”

“The same. I keep myself busy. Restocking supplies, mixing potions and elixirs, writing letters.”

“Letters?”

“Yes. I write letters to patients at St. Mungos in the Janus Thickey Ward. A lot of them don’t have anyone anymore. They need to know someone cares.”

“I didn’t know you did that.”

Poppy shrugged. “Well, I’ve told you I spend my summers at St. Mungos, the letters are just an extension of that.”

“Right,” Molly said. She sipped her tea before asking. “You ever regret devoting your life to others? To not getting married? Having kids?”

“And how is that not devoting your life to others?” Poppy asked.

“Touche,” Molly said.

“Besides,” Poppy continued after a pause, “you more than anyone should know I was never going to take that road; that was never going to be my life.”

Molly quirked her head up, nervously looking to see that Harry was still asleep before turning to Poppy.

“I’m sorry,” Poppy said standing up and trying to look like she had other places to be. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

She rushed to her office until her cheeks stopped flushing painfully hot and her hands stopped shaking. They hadn’t talked about those school age fumblings in years.

She heard Molly gather up her things and toyed with the idea of staying where she was until Molly was gone. She was not a coward though, so she went to the door. Molly was standing at the exit. She turned to look at Poppy, then walked over to her. Poppy saw her once again look around before she tentatively put her hand on the side of Poppy’s face, stroking her cheek with her thumb. Poppy’s face burned again and her heart beat loudly.

“You think I’ve forgotten about our school age explorations? That I’ve pushed them out of my mind as insignificant?” Molly whispered, piercing Poppy with her gaze.

Poppy tried not to shrug, tried not to whimper but it had been so long since anyone had touched her and forever since it had been Molly.

“It’s not true. I think about it... think about you often... often and fondly.”

Poppy swallowed, then brought her hand to rest on Molly’s wrist. “Do you ever regret it... devoting your life to others? To getting married? Having kids?”

“Never,” Molly answered, not even having to consider. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t also miss you, miss...” she leaned forward, lightly brushed her lips against Poppy’s, “this.”

Poppy tightened her grasp of Molly’s wrist, not wanting her to slip away. Her other hand mirrored Molly’s. Her thumb stroking along Molly’s jawbone delicately. “I’ve missed you too.”

She slowly leaned forward to touch lips again, to just feel them on hers was all she wanted, was all she knew she could hope for. She held her own breath, but felt Molly’s feather against her skin as she got closer, but as their lips touched, Molly pulled away swiftly.

“I have to go. Arthur and the rest will be wondering where I’ve gotten to.”

She turned and walked to the door, turning to look at Poppy almost apologetically as she pulled the door open and walked through it.

Poppy waited until Molly was gone before she closed the door to her office and leaned against it for support. Her chest was heaving with adrenaline and she touched her fingers to her cheek where only moments before Molly’s fingers had been before she moved them to her lips, wishing she could still feel Molly’s hand on her, her lips on hers.

Molly had said she hadn’t forgotten, but Poppy had. She had forgotten just what it did to her to have Molly so close, to have Molly touching her, kissing her. For Molly it had been experimentation, practice perhaps. For Poppy, though, it had been the beginning of understanding-- who she was, what she wanted.

***

School had only been out for a week and Poppy was settling into her summer routine at St. Mungos and her flat by Abbey Park when Molly came to see her at work.

“Is everything alright?” Poppy asked, assuming she was there to visit a family member.

“Yes. I mean...”

Poppy came closer. Molly looked fragile and worried.

“What is it?” Poppy asked.

“I just came by to see you, to see if you’d like to... maybe... sometime get away for some tea... or something?”

“Of course. Whenever you’d like.”

“Do you have some time now? Or are you too busy?”

Even if she were too busy, Poppy would have agreed to drop everything. Molly’s apprehension and nervousness was scaring her. She took her elbow and walked her to the lift.

“I have some time. Lets go to the fifth floor.”

They settled into a quiet corner of the hospital’s cafe and Poppy blew on the scalding tea waiting for Molly to tell her why she had came. It was a long wait.

Finally, after Poppy was half way through her tea, she heard in a whisper: “It’s starting again, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Poppy asked, though she thought she knew.

“War.”

“Yes. It feels like it did before.”

Molly shivered. After taking another sip of her tea she said in a soft voice, “You know, last time I lost my brothers and I thought it was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. The loss and the agonizing grief of it seemed unbearable. Now though... I have so very much more I could lose.”

“I know,” Poppy replied because she didn’t know what else to say.

***

“What can I do for you, Molly?” Poppy asked the next week when Molly came in again.

Molly sighed. “I need something to do. Someone to talk to about something that isn’t death and the possibility of death.”

“So you came to a hospital?” Poppy asked with a light laugh.

Molly smiled. “No. I came to you.”

Poppy looked down with a blush and swallowed a few times before she spoke again. “I will always be here to talk to. What do you want to do?”

“Do?”

“Yes, you said you needed something to do.”

“Right, sorry. I... yes. I just don’t have anything to do. I cook, I clean and I listen to the men talk of assignments and intrigue and I worry. I’d like to do something productive. I mean, I don’t even have my garden to distract me anymore.”

Poppy thought for a minute. “I have the perfect job for you.”

She brought her to the Janus Thickey Ward, and introduced her to people she had meet before who no longer had the memory of knowing her. Alice and Frank looked just like they did when Poppy and Molly had known them. Actually they looked better then last time Molly had seen them. The fear and dogged determination of the Auror and Order of the Phoenix member was replaced by a innocent curiosity about the world in general.

Molly returned three more times that week. Poppy would check in on her from time to time, and smile when she saw Molly trying to teach Alice how to knit. It was like being in Gryffindor Tower all over again. Molly had always been good with her hands, had always been willing to share her knowledge with the younger girls.

That Friday night, Poppy was surprised to find Molly still there when Poppy’s shift was over.

“Do you need to rush home?” Poppy asked.

“Not really. No one is there now. Out running errands and missions. Kids have Sirius to keep them company, not that he’s my idea of supervision, but they like him. I cramp their style.”

“I’m sure that’s not... well, yeah, maybe that’s true. You are, after all, their mother.”

“Their stick-in-the-mud-mum,” Molly said with a sad sigh. “What are you doing this evening?”

“I was just going to stop for a early dinner, maybe a glass of wine. Would you like to join me?”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you were going to meet someone there, maybe you were going to be looking for someone. I don’t want to get in your way.”

“Well, my life is exciting and full of chance encounters and the like, but I think I can put that aside for one night to catch up with an old friend.”

“That would be lovely.”

They found a quiet backroom in a small out of the way cafe in Poppy’s neighborhood.

“Thank you for this,” Molly said in a low voice once they had had placed their orders and had a glass a wine.

“It’s just dinner.”

“No, I mean this, the dinner, the hospital. Giving me something to do, getting my mind off of what is going on in the world at large right now. It means a lot to me.”

“And it’s working?”

“Yes. It’s been hard this living at headquarters, being away from home. All those chores that I did to get my mind off things, they’re gone.”

“That has to be hard.”

“I remember the first war. Hearing the whispers between my brothers about the Order of the Phoenix, about the important work they were doing. How they were soldiers in the war and I wanted nothing more than to do my part, to be a member. Even after they died, probably more after they died. They were heroes. They were doing what everyone would be honored to do. It seemed so heroic and worthwhile. Losing Gideon and Fabian might have dampened the mystic of war, but not my resolve to play my part.

“Now, though, I have been close to the action, have been in the inner circle and have lived the role. Turns out my role is pretty similar to the one I’ve had since getting married and having children. Minus the house and the garden.”

She took a large swallow of her third glass of wine and continued, “You mustn’t think I regret any of that, only... well... thank you. This week... I feel... feel like I’m a part of something... But also...” she finished her drink and poured another while topping off Poppy’s. “Also, I feel like I’m... someone else. Like for those few hours a day, I’m just me... not anyone’s wife, anyone’s mother...” she leaned in. “Does that make me a bad person?”

The wine had gotten to both of them and Poppy leaned in to whisper, “Not only does that not make you a bad person, it makes you human. You’re allowed to be more than wife and mother, allowed to have a life outside all of that, allowed to be Molly Prewett from time to time.”

Poppy didn’t know when she knew exactly how the evening would end. She certainly hadn’t started the night even dreaming it would progress to where it did. She only knew that the moment she realized where it all was leading, she started matching Molly’s drinking gulp for gulp. She suspected that they were drinking heavily for pretty similar reasons. As much as Molly yearned to be someone else, Poppy also needed to transform slightly. She was not the type who brought confused, straight women back to her flat, and she certainly never brought back confused, straight, married women. This was Molly though. Even if the fire of the torch she carried for her schoolmate had dampened in the proceeding years, it had never been doused. Being a bridesmaid as she married Arthur hadn’t extinguished it, neither had year after year of hospital visits as child after child was born, Poppy was damned sure a bit of nerves and a pile of guilt wasn’t going to stop her now.

So they drank.

At Poppy’s while she prepared her flat for a night of passion--or at the least a drunken night of fumbling--Molly stumbled around haphazardly casting made up spells. Thankfully Poppy had taken her wand from her after she had tried to spank a random Muggle with it right before they had Apparated to Poppy’s.

“What are you doing?” Poppy asked. Molly was drifting along the flat, waving her hands and whispering incantations.

“Fortifying this sacred place. It is very important. Now, if I may continue.”

Poppy smiled. “By all means.”

As Poppy watched, Molly preformed some sort of ritual of becoming... becoming a different person, someone with no attachments, no inhibitions. Though she had no wand, and Poppy knew she had never mastered wandless magic, what Poppy saw mystified her. There was a definite transformation. Not that she became someone else, more that she reemerged the girl that Poppy had fallen for all those years ago. Moly Prewett; ready for anything and always up for adventure.

“You know,” Molly said as she turned to Poppy, all drunken frivolity gone. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”

“You have?” Poppy asked, taking a slow step forward.

Molly swung her leg slowly before taking a tiny step toward Poppy. “Yes. Seeing Alice again, being around her... and you... it reminds me...”

“Reminds you of what?” Poppy asked, taking another tentative step closer.

“Of what it was like to be young, to be with people who remembered me-- or don’t-- from then. Remember when we first met Alice?”

“Yes. It was our final year at Hogwarts, she came in as a first year and just dazzled us with her fire and curiosity. Remember how she used to hang on our every word?”

Molly took another step. They were standing close now. Really close. “Remember that time she walked in on us? When we thought we were alone?”

Poppy’s heart was racing and she bowed her head, afraid to look at Molly. Wanting her so much and afraid she’d scare her off again, she leaned slightly and was pleasantly surprised when her forehead was met by Molly’s. “I remember,” Poppy whispered.

Slowly and gently, she cupped her hands around each side of Molly’s neck and pulled slightly, so that their lips met. Molly’s lips were chapped and chilled but still, Poppy was sad when she once again pulled away. But sighed with relief when she watched Molly smile nervously and lick her lips before leaning back and continuing the kiss. This time when Poppy sighed, it was into Molly’s opening mouth. Molly gasped and wrapped her arms around Poppy tightly.

Molly’s mouth tasted of red wine and was warm and wet; Poppy licked her lips as she explored without pushing too far, demanding too much. Still terrified of Molly’s skittishness, she wanted Molly to set the pace. Until then, Poppy would just continue to kiss her.

Poppy’s body was humming with desire and need by the time that Molly finally broke the kiss again. With a pant, as if she had forgotten to breathe, she threw her head back, tugging on Poppy’s waist, pulling them closer to each other. Poppy ran her thumb along Molly’s jawline and then pushed her chin to expose more of Molly’s neck. With her other hand, Poppy hooked her fingers into the collar of Molly’s blouse and tugged before bringing her lips to the warm skin.

She sucked gently on Molly’s neck before licking and nibbling up to her ear, taking the lobe into her mouth, breathing hot. “I’ve wanted this again for so long.”

She hadn’t meant to say that, admit that. She didn’t expect Molly to voice a similar confession, she didn’t expect anything at all, she just hoped she hadn’t said anything that would stop Molly from thinking what they were doing was a good idea. She held her breath waiting for Molly to say something.

“It’s different now.”

“What do you mean?” Poppy asked, relieved that Molly hadn’t stepped away, hadn’t removed her hands from Poppy’s waist.

“Well, this isn’t playing. Isn’t practice. This is real.”

“As real as you want it to be,” Poppy said. Then she stepped back.

Molly looked confused but it wasn’t even close to how Poppy felt. More then anything she wanted this, but she also wanted to be able to live with herself the next day. Wanted Molly to still be able to look at her the next day.

“I know what I want, and how long I’ve wanted it, but I need to know what you want and when you started,” Poppy said.

Molly sighed. “Everything I’ve wanted these last couple of weeks, you’ve given me. I wanted to contribute, to have someone to talk to, you’ve given me that. I don’t want... don’t want you to think that I’m... I’m using you. It’s not that... Just... there are so many people who need me, I know that. And I love that, I do... But there are very few I can go to for what I need.... and I... I want to be with someone who wants me as much as I need them.”

That was all Poppy needed to hear. She went back to Molly, took her hand and slowly led her to the bedroom.

Poppy, with her lips, her tongue and her hands, showed Molly just how very much she was needed and how much Poppy could give her. Her reward was to have Molly, shuddering and spent, curl up beside her and hold her throughout the night. In the morning there was fresh squeezed juice and a proper fry-up waiting for Poppy. And there was a kiss on the lips, on the nose and on the forehead before Molly slipped out to return to the life of Molly Weasley.

***

For the rest of the summer, they continued to see each other at the hospital and at Poppy’s and they continued to talk, to kiss, to make love and to be there for each other. Although, Molly never traipsed around Poppy’s flat again, muttering spells and elaborately going through steps to become someone else, she still seemed to transform as she crossed the threshold, so that it never really mattered to Poppy that there children and a husband or that there was a war and an increasing number of wounded patients. For those hours, with Molly in her arms and in her bed, there was nothing but the need and the want.

When the summer ended, Poppy was prepared to not see Molly anymore, except for those yearly visits to her ailing children, of course. So, she was surprised when two weeks after the beginning of the term, she received an owl.

Poppy--

I have taken a room at the Hog’s Head for the night. Would love to see you and catch up.

Molly

Poppy rushed off a note saying she would be there after her duties were over. As she sat at dinner that night at the staff table, she avoided any glances to the Gryffindor table. She didn’t want to be reminded of anything by those numerous redheads that peppered that table.

This was dangerous, Poppy thought as she made her way to Hogsmeade. This was different then being one of the million nameless, faceless strangers in London, this was people who knew them, people who talked and were curious. Still, she went, had to go. When she crossed the threshold of Molly’s rented room, all that was forgotten as Molly was suddenly there in her arms, kissing her into the room and to the bed.

“I’ve missed you,” Poppy tried to get out between kisses, but Molly shushed her.

“Later,” Molly ordered with an urgency she’d never brought to their coupling before. That wasn’t the only new thing, Poppy thought as Molly pushed Poppy onto the bed. She’d never been the aggressor, never even been the one who gave, only received.

Not that Poppy had minded, she loved exploring Molly and bringing her release and that blissful look. She’d never really thought that Molly had it in her to take the lead and return the ministrations. Poppy, though, was willing to be happily proven wrong as she watched Molly stand over her, shrugging off her robe and unbuttoning her dress.

Poppy had only gotten her own robe and top off and was working on her skirt when Molly stood before her naked.

“So glorious,” Poppy whispered, staring at Molly’s plump and slightly sagged breasts. Molly shushed her again, but there was a flame on her cheeks that told Poppy she had appreciated the compliment.

Molly slid to cover Poppy with her body, holding herself up with her hands, her thighs encircling Poppy’s. She leaned into Poppy and slithered her tongue into Poppy’s mouth before their lips even met. Poppy had been trying to continue shimmying out of her clothes, but that was forgotten when Molly’s tongue swirled and sucked against her own.

When Molly finally pulled away from the kiss, she took Poppy’s lower lip between her teeth and tugged with a growl.

It was on the tip of Poppy’s tongue to ask what had gotten into her lover, but she didn’t want to be admonished again, and also, she wasn’t sure that she really wanted to know. Not now. So, instead, she concentrated on Molly’s wet lips as they kissed their way down her collarbone.

Still holding herself over Poppy with one hand, the other fingered along the edge of Poppy’s bra before bringing her lips down and wetting the skin, flicking her tongue under the fabric.

Poppy frantically worked the clasps behind her back. She had been waiting for that mouth to be on her, that tongue to be working its way inside her. She moaned at the thought of it as she pulled anxiously at the straps and then moaned again as Molly’s lips clasped onto one of her nipples greedily. For someone who hadn’t done that for a very long time, Molly was surprisingly good at it, Poppy thought as Molly flicked and teased one erect and aching nipple and then the other. A surge of pride coursed through Poppy’s body. She liked to imagine she had taught Molly all she knew about how to please a woman, and she was glad Molly had been such an observant pupil.

Her whole body was humming with desire and a growing impatience as Molly slowly made her way down Poppy’s abdomen. Poppy found she didn’t know what to do with her hands with Molly doing all the work. She placed them on Molly’s shoulder, not pushing, never pushing, just to have something to do with them.

Molly got on her knees and tugged Poppy’s skirt and panties, standing up and working them over Poppy’s hips before sliding them off. She lay there naked, Molly standing over her once again and for a fleeting moment she felt exposed and a little apprehensive, even more so when she saw the same thing mirrored in Molly’s only moments before territorial and confident expression. As quickly as the thoughts fluttered in, they were relieved when Poppy meet Molly’s eyes and they smiled almost shyly at each other. Poppy reached her hand out and Molly took it, kissed it as she once again knelt on the bed between Poppy’s legs.

Poppy, still holding Molly’s hand, brought them both to her center. Fingers intertwined, they slowly circled the pubic hair there, edging closer and closer to her entrance. Poppy took her thumb and middle finger and pulled the lips apart. They shared another look and then Poppy bit her tongue and with her other hand, bunched the sheets in her fist as she watched Molly lick her lips and bend over her, nuzzling her face against Poppy, pushing her legs farther apart with her shoulders.

Poppy slammed her eyes closed and threw her head back as she got lost in the sensation of Molly’s tongue exploring her. She’d been with many women in her life, and yet, she’d never expected this. Molly. Here. Tasting her, teasing her with her tongue, her fingers sliding in and out, deep, slow and torturous. It was more then she’d ever imagined. She was actually a little sad as she felt the tension of orgasm mount inside her quicker than she wanted. But then she felt the release, and with a satisfied moan and loud screech, came.

When she regained her ability to breath in and out, Poppy opened her eyes and looked down to see Molly. The proud, gleeful look on her face almost made Poppy come all over again, but instead she just matched her blissed expression with one of her own.

Poppy reached her hand out and Molly took it as she moved to curl up in Poppy’s arms.

“Thank you,” Poppy whispered, kissing Molly’s shoulder, no longer caring if she wasn’t supposed to be talking yet.

Molly blushed and hid her face into the mattress. “It was nothing.”

Poppy laughed and held her tighter.

“Can you stay for a while?” Molly asked.

“I don’t think I could move for a while if I tried. That’s okay?”

Molly answered by stroking the arm draped over her. She didn’t talk for a long time, Poppy didn’t say anything either.

“You know, I thought I’d feel strange, being this close to my children and not seeing them, not telling them I’m here.”

“But it’s not?” Poppy asked. They very rarely talked of Molly’s children, for obvious reasons that extended to most of Molly’s life.

“No. I remembered that when Arthur was on duty to guard the castle, he never reached out to the children. They never knew he was here. Sure, yes, he was here on orders and as part of the war effort and I’m here... well, no one sent me here. But still. He was able to put aside his thoughts of a father and focus on what needed to be done. I figured I could do the same.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Poppy said because she didn’t know what else to say. “But Arthur doesn’t guard the school anymore?”

“No, he’s been given another mission. Very important. Very dangerous.”

“And you?”

Molly barked a bitter laugh. “What is my mission?”

“Yeah.”

After a long pause she answered. “Fumigation. Fumigation and dog-sitting a mongrel who blames me for being put on house arrest. Like I don’t understand exactly how he feels.”

“Have you ever told him that? Shared your own frustrations? It could help.”

They hardly ever talked about Molly’s husband and kids, that was true, but they had spent a lot of time talking about Sirius, about the Order, about Headquarters and what it all meant to Molly. Poppy liked listening. It made the relationship feel more real. Isn’t this what relationships were? Being there for each other and listening? Poppy realized it had been a while, but she was pretty sure she was right about this.

“I don’t really need his understanding,” Molly continued. Poppy knew that wasn’t exactly true, but what she said next made her forget mongrels, war and loving husbands. “As long as I have yours, I’ll get through.”

***

Poppy left early the next morning with kisses and a hopes of getting more chances to see each other. It was hard to get away with Umbridge’s constant meddling and her students seemly obsessive penchant for injury. There were a few times though that she was able to get away for a day or two and found herself in her flat, waiting for Molly.

Molly seemed more and more anxious, frustrated and lonesome and Poppy wondered how she was going to survive the school year, let alone the war.

“Will you be home for the holidays?” Molly asked one late November night. They had spent a lazy Sunday in bed, headquarters being very deserted and Arthur on some mission at the Ministry that kept him away for days at a time.

“I hope to be. What about you? Will you be at headquarters, or back home?”

“I’d like to be back home. If Percy is going to come calling, he’d be going to the house...”

Poppy had gotten used to Molly’s drifting off when on the subject of Percy. He was the child that Poppy knew least, him never spending too much time in the hospital wing himself, but she knew Molly took it extremely hard that he had walked out on the family. Even she knew that he would not be calling on them this holiday, but it did no good to voice this opinion. Molly knew.

After a moment longer, Molly continued, “It would be nice to have a moment together though. Just the two of us.”

“That would be lovely.”

“Let’s promise to make it work.”

Poppy kissed her as she buttoned up her blouse and prepared to catch the Knight Bus for her Hogwarts return. “Promise.”

***

The next time they meet though, it wasn’t yet the holidays, and it was anything but just the two of them.

Poppy first heard about Arthur being attacked when Albus held a secret staff meeting behind the back of the Ministry toad, Dolores Umbridge.

“Arthur Weasley has been attacked while on a special assignment for the Order. His children and Harry have been shipped out of the school late last night, before they could be stopped by the Ministry.”

“What happened?” Severus asked.

“He was attacked by a highly venomous snake. He is at St. Mungos. They seem to be very optimistic now,” Albus answered.

“Where are Molly and the children?” Poppy asked, swallowing her anxiety. The way that Albus looked at her, she didn’t know how successful she was at hiding her concern.

“I just got a message from Molly. She has left the children at headquarters and she’s at the hospital with Remus.”

She barely heard the rest of what Albus said. She knew she had to go to St. Mungos to see how Molly was doing, but she didn’t know how to ask Albus for permission to do so. She shouldn’t have worried, Albus, in his infinite and almost creepy perception called Poppy aside at the end of the meeting. “I know you and Molly have been close since your school days and I would understand if you’d like to go to St. Mungos and check on her and Arthur.”

Poppy nodded, unable to speak.

“I think that is a good idea. You should use my office’s Floo though. The Ministry is getting a tighter and tighter leash on the school and I think the less it knows about Arthur’s injuries the better.”

“I understand,” Poppy said, not really caring how she got there.

She was back in Albus’ office within the hour. Thankfully, she was the only person making the trip at the time.

It wasn’t until she was standing outside Arthur’s room that she took the time to realize, this would be the first she’d seen him since she had begun sleeping with his wife. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was not about her, she’d just have to get through it. Be the nurse that she was trained to be, leaving all else outside the room.

She was relieved that she had taken that moment, for when she opened the door, the first thing she saw was Molly asleep in a chair beside her husband’s bed, clutching his hand. Poppy would have slipped back out to let them rest, but Arthur wasn’t asleep and waved her in with his free hand, before holding a finger over his lip to indicate quiet.

She entered with a weak smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better I can tell you,” he whispered with a chuckle. He pointed to Molly. “She just fell asleep finally, so we’ll let her sleep, but I know she’d want to see you.”

Poppy swallowed and nodded slightly. “I came to see you though. See how you were.” She reached for his chart at the end of the bed, as if that made it an official visit. Truthfully, she just needed something to do with her hands.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while,” Arthur said, still in a whisper.

Poppy looked up. “Have you?”

“I just wanted to thank you for being there for Molly these last couple of months. They haven’t been easy for her, what with my being gone so much and Percy... well. It just means a lot that she has a friend like you.”

Poppy could taste the bile rise from her throat. “I’ll be right back,” she barely got out as she hastily put down the chart and made her way to the door.

“Wait, did I...?” he started, but she was out the door, not before she heard Molly wake up, however.

Poppy walked through the halls not seeing or hearing anything. She knew this hospital almost as well as she knew her own at Hogwarts, but still she had no idea where she was when she stopped walking long enough to look around.

“Poppy?” It was Molly. “What are you doing here?”

“Here?” Poppy asked, confused. Where was she?

“It’s highly inappropriate.”

“Sorry?”

Molly looked around and then took Poppy’s arm and lead her to a quiet room. Now Poppy recognized where they were. The Janus Thickey Ward. How did that happen?

Molly made sure the door was bolted and then turned on Poppy. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m... I”m sorry. I just wanted to see how you were.”

“How I am?” Molly asked, incredulous. Then raising her voice, “How I am? My husband lies in a bed this close to death and you come here to ask how I am?”

“Yes.”

Molly ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “I can’t do this right now. You shouldn’t be here.” She began pacing. “I am a wife and a mother. I know it means nothing to you. But these are my responsibilities. I took a vow. Made a promise. Look what happened.”

Poppy felt like she had just gotten all the pieces. She wasn’t thick, she just couldn’t even believe that Molly was making these leaps.

“Are you suggesting that this is our fault? That we somehow did this?”

Molly stopped her pacing right in front of Poppy. “No...yes...I don’t--”

Poppy slapped her. Hard.

Molly’s hand flew to her stinging cheek, her eyes wide and mouth open in shock. Poppy imagined she looked just as awed. She hadn’t thought to do it, she just reacted. It wasn’t like her at all, but once she had taken that step she continued.

“How dare you,” Poppy spat.

Molly was still speechless.

“You take all that we’ve been to each other since we were children and you disregard it, disrespect it? We didn’t do anything to bring this upon anyone. How could you even think that?”

“I made a promise,” Molly whispered.

“Fine. You broke a promise. Guess what? The world doesn’t revolve around that promise; evil men and their vile pets don’t punish broken promises. You want to blame someone? Blame them.” She got in Molly’s face and continued, “But don’t you dare blame me. I have done nothing but been there for you, loved you and gave you anything you wanted.”

Molly opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Poppy only gave her a moment to form the words, but she gave up with a sigh and walked to the door. Turning back, Poppy repeated, “How dare you?”

***

In the months that followed, Molly tried again and again to reach out to Poppy, to apologize, to explain. Poppy listened to the apology, accepted it but told Molly that she had been right and that what they were doing, had been doing wasn’t right...not for them. It had kept them sane, kept them busy while the world waged war all around them, but now the spell was broken, the transformation tarnished and soiled. Poppy couldn’t go back.

All those years ago, when they curled around each other in the dorm room full of nervous giggles and needy gropings, Molly had shown Poppy what was possible, what she could have. She had revealed to Poppy what she was and somehow she had made Poppy feel alright about it. Then years later, she had done the same things again, she had shown Poppy that she was desirable and able to love. She had also shown Poppy, though, that she deserved more than what Molly could ever give her.

Poppy would never be able to go back.