People often asked her why she went into healing and then later, why she became the matron at Hogwarts. Students were the highest percentage of people who asked her that question; most of the time she responded by giving them work experience time in the hospital wing. She told them she was giving them a chance to fall in love with healing, just as she had at Hogwarts. Technically it wasn't a lie, not really. She had fallen in love with healing because of Hogwarts, but it wasn't because she had worked in the hospital wing. She loved healing because she loved her friends. Minerva McGonagall in particular.
Minerva McGonagall was the woman who was going to put her in an early grave. She also happened to be the woman who had shown Poppy what her calling was in life, what she loved in life. It wasn't the happiest of stories, hence why she never told anyone.
"Pomfrey, ready one of the emergency beds, now!"
The blonde looked up, wide-eyed as she watched the matron crashing through the hospital wing doors. There was a stretcher hanging in the air just behind her. The white sheets were dripping blood onto pristine stone floors.
Poppy clutched at the sheet in her hand as the body was lain down on the bed. It was Minerva McGonagall, a student two years above her, and the Gryffindor seeker.
"Out of the way Pomfrey, this one isn't for you."
The curtain was shut in her face, and she was left standing, still holding the sheets she had stripped the bed of, listening to healing chants being whispered at terrifying speeds.
She had been there when Minerva woke up. She had been the one who had stayed beside her, helping the matron each time a dose of potions had to be administered. It seemed that the girl didn't have many friends, or at least none who had bothered to visit her. She was both surprised and not by this information. The Gryffindor seeker had been rumoured to be an introvert who shut herself away from everyone, preferring books to people. What she hadn't realised though, was that such a loved quidditch player could be so easily forgotten when out of the red and gold uniform.
Minerva had been confused and groggy when she first woke, speaking in her native tongue before exhausting herself and passing out. The second time Minerva opened her eyes, Poppy had been reading a book and Minerva had watched her for so long she had started reading aloud just to break the feeling of the dreadful, awkward silence. Minerva had gone back to sleep quite quickly after that; Poppy wanted to think that her voice was soothing rather than her reading being boring.
The third time Minerva woke, she had cried. The matron had been there and had delivered the news of how severe her injuries were and informed Minerva that she would never play quidditch again. The Scot had barely made a sound, but silent tears had rolled down her cheeks and her body had shaken with heavy sobs. Poppy had held Minerva's hand until she cried herself to sleep. Then Poppy had cried. She had cried at the unfairness of it all, at a girl’s life being taken away by a school injury. After that day, Minerva had stopped speaking. Poppy had filled in the gaps, delighting when she got more than a blank stare as a reaction from the girl. However, Minerva had seemed to enjoy when she read to her most and it was when she had pronounced a Scottish name wrong that the Gryffindor had finally spoken.
When Minerva began physiotherapy during the summer, Poppy went with her to the appointments. Over the span of six and a half weeks, they had become fast friends and Poppy couldn't imagine how she had enjoyed school before knowing Minerva. She looked forward to the now, alumni, Gryffindor's letters each week, eagerly opening them and devouring the contents. Minerva had probably been the reason she had stayed sane during the mayhem of Hogwarts and the reason she had passed her exams. The exam system had never been something she could master. The witch had been an excellent tutor, even from miles away.
Through her last two years she had never gotten Minerva's pale body, laying, almost completely camouflaged against the hospital wing sheets out of her mind. Just as much as Minerva's silent tears rolling down her cheeks in despair kept appearing in her dreams. The incident had haunted her.
Minerva had been on her own during that entire process, not even the girl's family had turned up. Her brothers had been taken home early and her parents hadn't even stopped by to say hello.
That was why she went into healing. Every person deserved to have someone waiting for them when they woke up. She had worked at St. Mungo's for many years until the system had begun to make her despair. She had begun to burn herself out, waging a private war against a failing medical system that had started damaging patients instead of healing them.
When she was sent a letter, offering her a position at Hogwarts as the matron by Albus Dumbledore, she had eagerly accepted. She had been delighted when the new job offered her the opportunity to re-connect with her childhood friend. She and Minerva had gotten along as though the years they had been too busy to write never happened.
In the hospital wing, Poppy had been given the chance to care for her patients, to care for them as she wished she could have done in her previous job. Even students like Remus Lupin who made caring so difficult because it hurt so much, made her job worthwhile. Of course, there was Minerva as well, a friend, more like a sister, and a better family member than any of her pureblood supremist family had ever been.
Then came that awful toad of a woman, Dolores Umbridge and the aurors who were far to trigger happy to be officers of the law. Four stunners to the chest. Minerva had taken four stunners to the chest and Poppy hadn't been able to help her. Fortunately, St. Mungo's had proved reliable for once. She had gotten her friend back.
The order had been brought back in full force the following year and she had become an unofficial healer for the members. She had healed every injury, from minor scrapes and bruises to larger wounds and damages from curses that should have gone to St. Mungo's for equipment more than skill if anything.
Then Voldemort had taken Hogwarts. Tortured students came to her at all hours and to her dismay she had learnt very quickly how to shed not tears in front of them. Children with adult's scars. It wasn't right, but then again, war never was. It had been Minerva who had convinced her to leave her supply cupboard open. Students who were too nervous to seek help or who had been ordered not to were able to receive healing from other students who had gotten a hold of her 'misplaced' medical textbooks.
The battle was the worst she had seen. Before, she had never been on the frontlines and now? Now she was pronouncing people dead and covering their bodies in white sheets. She had already made up her mind that when the hospital wing was rebuilt, she would refuse to use white sheets, anything but white would be used, anything.
Now she sat in front of a crackling fire on a battered but adequate and still comfy sofa with soft cushions in one of the few remaining rooms Hogwarts had saved.
"Here you go."
She smiled and took the offered cup of tea from her friend, sighing as the emerald-clad witch sat beside her.
"You know, you never told me why you went into healing."
Poppy waited before she answered, taking a sip of her tea and letting its warmth run through her.
"I had a friend who taught me how important it was to have someone who cared."
Minerva nodded and Poppy found herself glad that no follow up questions were asked. She waited for a few moments until the silence became too loud to bear and she spoke just to fill the gap.
"I never told you why I went into healing but you've never told me why you went into teaching."
This time it was Minerva's turn to sip her tea. The Scot also took a bite out of a ginger newt, swiping some crumbs of her robes before she spoke.
"I had a friend who taught me that exams weren't everything and they should never get in the way of your dreams."
Poppy chuckled and leaned against her friend, resting her head on the padded shoulder.
"What a pair we make."
Minerva chuckled.
"You can never leave me now, you know."
Poppy closed her eyes, feeling her exhaustion setting in.
"Why would I ever want a replacement for my best friend?"