It had been two years since Poppy was last at Hogwarts, but the castle and its denizens didn't seem to have changed much. Of course, there were some new students, but they behaved in much the same way that first- and second-years always have and always will. The castle still sounded the same, still echoed with the same shouts and shrieks. The only change to the staffing since Poppy's seventh year, barring the comings and goings in the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, was the one that she was involved in. Poor old Madam O'Shea hadn't been quite the same after the last bout of Vanishing Sickness. Professor Dumbledore had offered her early retirement and, apparently, she had jumped at the chance.
Of course, Hogwarts couldn't be without a matron. When Poppy had seen the advertisement in the Prophet, she had jumped at the chance to return here. Even in her first term of training, her classmates had said that this position would suit her. Hippocrates Smethwyck in particular had been sure she was perfect for the job. She would never have admitted as much to him, but she thought he might just have been right.
While she had wanted very much to become a Healer of some sort, something about working in St Mungo's felt a bit off-putting. With so many patients in and out each day, it all seemed a bit impersonal. She would always be in a rush from one person to the next, never really having the chance to do and say all she would like to. Here, at Hogwarts, she would see the same children, the same young adults, for seven years at a time. She would get to know them, really be able to help them. In her domain, she would have control. She wouldn't be like Madam O'Shea -- impersonal and distant. She would care.
Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore (whom she should probably start calling Albus sometime soon) remembered her from her school days when she had submitted her application. –A Hufflepuff who could have been in Ravenclaw,†was how he had described her. She was still flattered to think of that. Her grades had always been good -- they couldn't have been anything but with her current career path -- but she had attributed that to hard work, not to any exceptional aptitude on her part. Evidently the Headmaster disagreed, as he'd given her the job.
She was delighted with the amount of trust he had placed in her. Once she had arrived and settled into her quarters (far more spacious than she would have expected for a matron, and very well ordered) he had called her up to his office. It wasn't a place she had ever had to visit during her school days. The round room was far more interesting than she had expected it to be. Professor Dumbledore was a very interesting man, but she had expected the Headmaster's office to be somewhat impersonal -- colder, somehow. Instead, she had found herself intrigued by the strange whirring devices placed around the room, by the wink of one old Headmaster as she entered the room, by the gorgeous phoenix, asleep on a silver perch behind the desk.
She had felt like she was back in school, sitting there opposite her new employer. A part of her had wondered why she wasn't wearing school robes. In fact, she had regressed far enough that she struggled to pay him full attention, so delighted was she by the office and the thought of her new position in the school. But then a word had leapt out at her and dragged her back down to earth.
–Werewolf.â€
–I'm sorry?†she had responded.
–It's a terrible affair. His name is Remus Lupin and he will be one of our new students. He was bitten as a small child. I have made accommodations to allow him to attend the school -- I'm sure you noticed the new tree in the grounds -- but of course I will require your assistance in caring for him.â€
And Poppy had said yes. Werewolves, in the past, had been just another monstrous creature to her, something else that could hurt her patients, something else that she would try to heal wounds from. She had never really thought of their human side before, the people who became the monsters. She had to now, though. This was an eleven-year-old boy, not a monster. An eleven-year-old who was going to be in her care. She was certain that he would need all the care he could get.
Now, today, Poppy was going to meet the poor boy. He had been Sorted into Gryffindor last night, and Professor Dumbledore had said he was settling in well. As well as could be expected, anyway. Poppy had stocked up on chocolate, just in case. There was nothing better for soothing scared children, for boosting worn spirits. She got up from her desk to check the cupboard once more; she was determined to be well prepared for the coming year, and especially for the little werewolf boy. Yes, there was doubtless enough chocolate there to last through the year. Her bottle of Pepper-Up Potion was full to the brim, and so was the vial of Sleeping Draught. She was as prepared as she knew how to be.
Before she had time to make any more checks, there was a knock on the office door. Yes, dinner would have finished by now. It was time.
–Come in,†she called, trying to keep her voice both firm and friendly. She was well aware that this would be the first of many knocks on her door and she wanted to get it right, to start on a good note.
Professor Dumbledore walked into the room, followed by a small, tired-looking boy. Of course it was him. Poppy had done her research. She knew that there would be a full moon in three days time.
Professor Dumbledore smiled benignly. –Poppy, I would like to introduce you to Remus Lupin. Remus, this is Madam Pomfrey, your matron.â€
–Welcome to Hogwarts,†she said, smiling in the hope of putting her charge at ease. He only nodded his head very slightly in response.
Inclining his head, Professor Dumbledore gestured for Remus to come further into the room, rather than hovering in the doorway. –I believe we have a lot to discuss--†he looked at Poppy –--so you may as well sit down.â€
Poppy, seeing this was her cue, conjured a chair and cushion for him. His eyes widened for a moment before, hesitantly, he sat down. Professor Dumbledore hadn't mentioned him being Muggle-born, Poppy thought, but he didn't seem used to seeing displays of magic like that. She wouldn't ask. The poor boy seemed nervous enough without her prying more than she had to.
Professor Dumbledore, with a casual flick of his wand, conjured a squashy armchair for himself and sat down.
–Now, I believe I have run through the plan for Sunday with both of you separately, but I would like to check the details with you both one last time; secrecy and safety are of the utmost importance, so we cannot afford any mistakes.†He paused, looking at both of them kindly. –Remus, at what time are you to arrive here?â€
He swallowed, before saying, –Six o'clock, sir.â€
Dumbledore nodded, then looked at Poppy and asked, –And you will then take him to..?â€
–The Whomping Willow, Headmaster, where I will press a knob on the tree trunk to freeze its arms and allow us entrance to--â€
Here, Professor Dumbledore raised a finger and gestured to Remus. –Please, continue, Mr Lupin.â€
–A secret passageway, sir, to the Shrieking Shack.â€
Professor Dumbledore smiled. –And you, Poppy, will then accompany him to the Shack, ensure that he is comfortable and, well before moon-rise, leave and secure the door behind you. No-one will be able to enter to harm Remus, and Remus will not be able to unintentionally harm anyone else.â€
If anything, Remus grew even paler at that speech and Poppy was half-tempted to chastise the Headmaster for his insensitivity. However, she didn't want to overreach her position so early on in her tenure, and especially not in front of another newcomer. Instead, she pacified herself with the thought that Remus's first transformation away from home would always be scary, no matter how much they tried to reassure him. Perhaps it would have been better if Professor Dumbledore hadn't mentioned the lock quite so directly, but then again, why conceal the facts? A lock was a sad necessity.
Professor Dumbledore seemed to be aware of her displeasure -- something Poppy felt rather embarrassed about -- and of Remus's discomfort. With one of his characteristic gentle smiles, he dismissed Remus with a final reassuring remark and ushered him out of the office. When they were alone, he returned to his seat, resting his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers.
–You are displeased, Poppy.†It was a statement, not a question.
She looked away for a moment, trying to compose her thoughts. –Perhaps Remus would benefit from being treated with a little more delicacy, Professor.â€
He inclined his head with a slight nod. –Perhaps you are right. However, I do not think he will benefit, in the long run, from having the necessities of his condition hidden from him. The boy should know what he faces; the rest of society will not cosset him.â€
–All the more reason for us to give him a little more comfort, surely!†replied Poppy, unable to keep the emotion out of her voice. –Everyone needs to be treated gently once in a while, and I would like this office to be a place they can come to for that purpose.â€
Professor Dumbledore didn't speak for a minute, and Poppy feared that she had already overstepped the mark. However, when he began again, she was reassured.
–Then a compromise: when Remus is in this office, we will treat him with delicacy and not confront things in too harsh a manner. When unpleasant things need to be said, they will be said in my office.â€
–That seems fair, Professor,†she said, a touch of meekness in her voice.
He smiled at her, not seeming at all perturbed by her outburst. –You are no longer my pupil, Poppy. As a colleague, you have every right to address me by my given name.â€
–As you wish, Albus.†The name felt foreign on her tongue, but she was pleased by this little slice of equality between them. It felt good to be given so much respect by the renowned wizard, especially as a twenty-year-old in her first job.
Perhaps aware that this had been a somewhat stressful conversation for his newest employee, Albus got up to leave. –If I can in any way assist with the transformation of this office into a sanctuary, you are always welcome in my office,†he said, before vanishing his chair, nodding a courteous goodbye, and silently shutting the door behind him.
Poppy was relieved to be alone again. She hadn't intended to snap at her Professor Dumbledore. However, there was something about this young boy that had really affected her. A Healer was supposed to care, to be supportive and kind, without ever getting too attached. They had to protect their own interests too. However, in this case, Poppy had a feeling that she was going to lose sight of her own interests very rapidly.