After

Poppy Pomfrey was in St. Mungo’s as support staff, even though the head Medi-witch on the emergency ward had tried to contain her to patient status. There was nothing that anyone could do to keep Poppy from her appointed duty as Hogwarts Healer. If there were any potions to be dispensed they had better be checked against her books first. If there were any spells to be cast on broken body parts they had better be okayed by Madam Pomfrey first. She was being her force of nature self, and not enjoying a single moment of it. 

But there was nothing for her to do but this, and this was her job, after all. She had to keep her mind busy, stay working and present, and be around people because the minute she was alone she would only see blood-red stains on her apron and broken bodies on the floor. She had just released Harry Potter from the ward after personally dragging him in from 12 Grimmauld Place, along with most of the Weasley clan. The kids were mended up easily enough, Molly had already seen to most of the bumps and bruises, but Poppy still made all of them stay overnight. Arthur had had a minor head injury and she kept him too but released him that morning. Molly was fine, she’d been patched up at Hogwarts and had done the rest herself, she didn’t need to stay there, but Molly was the only one left. 

Poppy had decided to keep Molly ‘for observation’. That was just her way of taking Molly away from funeral arrangements for a short while, letting her hide in a closed exam room, and letting her cry. She was strong for her kids and her husband, if she fell apart everything else did too, but there and then she was free to fall apart. Poppy could cover for her for a while, if they didn’t see her break down then it’s like it never happened. 

Poppy sat beside her, cautiously wrapping an arm around the girl who had once thrown a library book at a mean boy so hard Poppy had to repair a torn muscle in her shoulder, not to mention the damage to his head. They weren’t all that familiar, though they’d known each other for years, but in a few fateful days, through a few acts of bravery and kindness, they were familiar now. 

Molly looked up at her, teary-eyed, and asked, “you won’t tell Arthur?” 

“I won’t tell another soul,” Poppy reassured, double-checking the soundproofing spell on the room. “And I guarantee no one heard a thing.”

Molly nodded and sniffed deeply, starting to dry her eyes. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Poppy said trying to sound casual, tears springing to her own eyes. She stood up and stepped away again, thinking of poor Fred. “He was a good boy, you know, more than most would give him credit for. He was more than just trouble.” She said it as a reassurance that someone else knew Fred as the good, kind, young man that he was.

Molly let out another soft cry, “He was, I didn’t treat him like that, but he was. I was so focused on his behaviour and how he caused trouble to even consider how kind and dear he really was. He did it all for a laugh and made more people smile than almost anyone else I know. I shouldn’t have been the way I was, oh why was I so horrible to him?” 

Poppy wiped away a stray tear, “You weren’t. You were his mother. You are his mother.” She corrected herself intentionally, “You love him and he knew that. He was never afraid of you, he never hated you. He thought of you first when he was a kid. Whenever he wound up in my infirmary the first thing he said was ‘don’t owl my mum she worries too much as it is.’ Not because he wanted to avoid trouble, not because he thought you’d be angry, but because he didn’t want you to worry, Molly.” She blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears at bay, “He was such a good lad, even when he was making mischief he was never malicious, always out for a laugh from everyone.” 

Molly couldn’t speak, she was filled with regrets about her son, but hearing Poppy she felt a little lighter. 

Poppy went on as Molly caught her breath. “You raised him that way. You. Well, and Arthur, but he didn’t mention his dad after he fell off his broom at quidditch practice.” Poppy tried for a lighter tone, it felt wrong to speak of Fred in such a mournful way when he was such a cheerful person.  “I remember you too Molly, being a little bit trouble, a little bit of a mischief maker yourself. I know it was you that set off that Screaming Sizzler in my office in 1966, even if I could never prove it.” She gave Molly a reproving look, which was tempered by a slight smile. 

Molly even managed to laugh a little at that, “I admit nothing,” She said, with the slightest of sad smiles. 

“My point is that you’re not that different from your twins, a little bit of trouble with a lot of heart. All the love you feel for them is mirrored in them, and they know.” Poppy squeezed her shoulder and said, “I have a few other people to look after, but you can stay as long as you need, I’ll tell them the room’s off-limits.” 

Molly sniffed and said, “Wait, Poppy,” 

Poppy turned back around, happy that they were on a first-name basis. “Yes?” She asked, keeping her composure for now.

“Thank you,” Molly answered, with such a depth of sincerity that Poppy almost lost her composure.

She nodded and tried for the slightest of smiles, “Of course, Molly. You know, I tried never to show it but I have to admit that I do have a tendency to pick favorites of my student charges.” Her tone was joking but she meant it. Molly had a way of endearing herself to almost anyone and Poppy was not immune. “You’ve been in my good books since you managed to get that pepper potion into Minerva’s tea at the old safe-house,” She recalled a memory from the first war and they both managed a weak laugh.

“Actually, that’s another thing,” Molly snapped back into a more businesslike mode, “I wondered if you had seen Professor McGonagall since… well you know,” she faltered slightly and then went on, “Only that Harry and Hermione had wanted to talk to her, but they weren’t sure what to put in a letter. I still don’t know quite what they’re up to.” 

Poppy’s expression darkened, and she realised that she hadn’t seen Minerva since she left Hogwarts. In the flurry of activity she’d kept herself in, she hadn’t realised she was missing someone. She’d seen all of the other professors and staff, she thought anyway. “No, I haven’t seen her, I’m sure you have an idea of what she’s like, a bit of a recluse sometimes,” Poppy answered lightly, trying to contain the worry to just herself. 

“Well, I hope she makes an appearance soon, I’ve seen a lot of the rest of the Order, but I’ve been worried about some of them,” Molly answered, seeming to believe Poppy’s calm exterior, and proving just how far her care and love expanded. “I’ve… I’ve always been rather… fond of her I suppose. Head of house and all that.” She tried to excuse her feelings as she checked her eyes for signs she’d been crying and tried to hide the redness.

“Yes, I know a lot of her former students feel that way,” Poppy said, trying to think of a way to extract herself from the room. “Though you’re one of the few who dare to say it out loud.” 

“You’ll let her know we’re looking for her if you see her, won’t you?” Molly asked, putting her handkerchief in her bag and standing up

“Of course, I will.” 

“Thank you, for everything,” Molly said, reattaching her outward-facing persona and following Poppy out the door. 

Poppy was glad that Molly had followed her out, as Arthur was waiting for her amid the crowded ward. She should have expected he would, they were always so hopelessly devoted to each other. She waved Molly off and turned to the record station as the last of the Weasleys left the ward. 

“Margie, has Minerva McGonagall made an appearance here?”

“She hasn’t come in today, I’ve been here all morning,” Margie answered as she dug through the last few day’s records. “Her name isn’t here anywhere.” 

“I should have known,” Poppy said sourly. “I’ll have to go and find her. Did Pomona Sprout already leave?” She asked, knowing that Pomona knew where Minerva’s summer hide-out was.

“She was released this morning, and she signed out about an hour ago,” Margie said, confused a little by this leap.

“Thanks.” Poppy turned away from her and almost ran into Septimia Vector. “Ah. Septimia, I thought I kicked you out of this ward?” She joked with her dear friend, though really she was glad to see her.

“Yeah, well, I kicked my way back in,” Septimia joked back, pulling Poppy aside, “I have to talk to you.”

“I have to talk to you too,” Poppy said, wondering if they were on the same track.

“It’s about Minerva,” They said simultaneously.

Poppy sighed and said, “Oh good, there’s only one problem instead of two. I don’t know where she is and she hasn’t shown up here and she’s never told me where that summer house of hers is.” 

“Well lucky you, I do know where she is. And let me tell you we don’t need that summer house,” Septimia said, shaking her head. 

Poppy’s eyes grew wide, “You don’t mean she’s…”

Septimia finished Poppy’s question with an affirmative statement, “Still at Hogwarts.” 

Without speaking another word they turned and marched out of the ward. Poppy called back, “Margie, I’ll be back when I’m back.” 

Margie shook her head and said, “Best of British, I’ll think you’ll need it.”