Action Thread. The Infirmary, Thorne Manor.
This is the Infirmary, quiet for now, and softly lit by the glow of oil lamps.
Poppy Pomfrey glides from bed to bed, a preoccupied expression on her face as she runs through mental list after mental list. She and her team of capable volunteers are ready to attend to the wounded, when they arrive.
In the doorway of one corner of the room stands Hannah Abbot, in charge of identification of those who portkey in to the adjoining room and of their swift transferral to a comfortable, curtained bed. Another door, guarded by a short, pale-faced witch, guides in those who cannot use the portkey to enter the Infirmary.
The sense of anticipation is tangible, the silence broken only by the whisper of crepe-soled boots.
Poppy Pomfrey glides from bed to bed, a preoccupied expression on her face as she runs through mental list after mental list. She and her team of capable volunteers are ready to attend to the wounded, when they arrive.
In the doorway of one corner of the room stands Hannah Abbot, in charge of identification of those who portkey in to the adjoining room and of their swift transferral to a comfortable, curtained bed. Another door, guarded by a short, pale-faced witch, guides in those who cannot use the portkey to enter the Infirmary.
The sense of anticipation is tangible, the silence broken only by the whisper of crepe-soled boots.