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SANGUINE
ft. Poppy Pomfrey
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Ask anyone about what they thought about Madam Poppy Pomfrey and they'd tell you that she was a kind, genuinely sanguine person who cared about her patients enough to yell them into submission. The war hadn't changed that— all throughout, as she watched former students fight and die for the good of the wizarding world, she remained steadfastly optimistic.
She knew they could do it.
How long had she seen them on her hospital bed, laid out and insisting that they could get up, they could go back to classes and their friends? All her them; patients she'd wished were all former but knew she'd see again, all of them were terribly confident, determined young people. And they would make things change for good.
And all through the war, she'd stayed out of it— the fighting, that is. Any time one of Albus' many friends showed up worse for wear, she'd patch them up and scold them for not going to St. Mungo's — she was a Mediwitch, not a Healer, and she was not as capable as they thought she was at literally stitching someone back together.
But now, Poppy was strongly reconsidering her views on violence.
(No one had died in her care before, and young Miss McKinnon was getting awfully close.)
But Poppy did what she did best and ignored the sanguine stains in her hospital bed's sheets, and calmly stitched her too-young patient back together. And when she was done, and Miss McKinnon was paper white and breathing shallowly in her Hospital Wing, Poppy flooed her friend at St. Mungo's, asked him to pretty please come watch her patient, and changed out of her Mediwitch robes.
And for the first time, when Poppy stepped out of her office, it was with sanguine violence on her mind.
Somebody was going to pay for hurting her patients.