Rosmerta

Madam Rosmerta was a woman of striking features, graceful curves, and a warm, spirited nature.

Even twenty years later, Ron Weasley would still blush at the sight of her, having nursed a secret crush on her for quite some time.

Ever since Madam Rosmerta had taken up residence in the Hospital Wing, the atmosphere around the school had shifted. The male students seemed to have conspired together, falling ill or getting injured one after another.

The once-empty Hospital Wing was suddenly packed to the brim.

Madam Pomfrey, faced with this chaotic scene, had to lose her temper and drive out those boys who were clearly healed yet still lounging in their beds, pretending to be sick.

When she learned that Aber had somehow suffered a sudden lapse in memory, gotten his leg caught in that mischievous staircase, twisted his ankle, and had to be admitted to the Hospital Wing, Pandora decided to visit him, purely out of concern for a friend.

"Are you sure you want to go?" Snape's tone carried a hint of oddity. "Trust me, there's nothing worth seeing there."

"But we're friends," Pandora said, blinking her big eyes, her long lashes fluttering. "You should come with me."

"Uh, fine." Looking at her sparkling eyes, Snape found no reason to refuse and had no choice but to accompany her to the Hospital Wing.

"What's injured this time?" Madam Pomfrey asked Snape with a dark expression, eyeing him up and down suspiciously.

"Nothing's injured. We're here to visit a friend," Pandora said briskly, stepping forward. "Patrick Aber."

"Oh." Seeing Pandora with him, Madam Pomfrey's expression softened considerably, and she gave a slight nod. "You can go in. He's in bed six."

Pushing open the door, Snape spotted Aber at once.

One of his feet was wrapped in greenish medicinal herbs, and he held a book titled How to Brew with Your Cauldron: The Ultimate Secrets of Firewhisky, flipping through it with a swaying head.

But his eyes kept darting to the side, and a strange grin lingered on his face, clearly believing his airs were noble and profound.

Following Aber's gaze, across a few beds, Madam Rosmerta was reclining against feather cushions.

She wore a silk dressing gown embroidered with a dragon, its color perfectly complementing her skin. Her fair, slender feet were casually resting on the mattress, her toenails tinged with a rosy hue.

Sunlight filled the room as an owl, carrying a newspaper in its beak, flew in through the window.

Madam Rosmerta gently reached out, took a copy of the Daily Prophet from its beak, then picked up five small copper coins from beside her and placed them into a little leather pouch tied to the owl's leg.

After receiving the delivery fee, the owl flapped its wings and flew back out the open window.

"Hey, Aber," Pandora said, walking up to him with concern. "How are you?"

"As you can see," Aber replied reluctantly, tearing his gaze away and closing his book with an exaggerated snap, his face twisting in pain. "I twisted my ankle. I need to rest it properly."

"Shouldn't Madam Pomfrey be able to fix that in the blink of an eye?" Snape asked skeptically.

"Ah, you don't understand," Aber sighed deeply, looking helpless. "My ankle was bitten by a Hoklap when I was little. Ever since, healing magic hasn't worked well on it. I have to apply herbal remedies and wait for it to recover slowly."

"What game are you playing?" Snape lowered his voice, leaning close to Aber's ear.

He knew full well that a Hoklap was nothing more than a plump, pinkish, mushroom-like magical creature. The biggest thing it could bite was a small earthworm—how could it cause such a lasting effect?

"Shh!" Aber glanced at Pandora, afraid she might hear, then quickly turned and whispered to Snape, "It's Finite Incantatem. I used Finite Incantatem."

"Your nonverbal spells are certainly sharp when it suits you."

Snape had just finished mocking Aber when he immediately understood why he'd done it.

Madam Rosmerta let out a lazy sound, drawing everyone's attention.

Turning toward the sound, they saw her put down the newspaper, yawn softly like a just-awakened kitten, sit up, and stretch slowly, a hint of her figure briefly visible.

Then she rose gracefully, slipped her feet into a pair of exquisite plush high-heeled slippers, and padded over toward Aber's bed with a soft pat-pat.

Every step swayed with charm.

Aber's mouth fell open in surprise, and his speech faltered. "M-Madam... hello, thank you."

Madam Rosmerta looked at him with slight confusion, clearly unsure why he was thanking her.

Without further regard for Aber's odd behavior, she turned her gaze to Snape, a charming smile spreading across her face. "Hello, Severus."

She was so tall that she even stood half a head above Snape at his current height.

Faced with Madam Rosmerta's well-proportioned figure standing before him, Snape didn't know where to look and could only reply dryly, "Hello, Madam Rosmerta."

"You're finally here," Madam Rosmerta said with a light laugh. "I've been waiting for you all day."

"Huh?" Snape froze, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "Why were you waiting for me?"

"I wanted to thank you in person," Madam Rosmerta said. "Minerva told me that if it weren't for you this time, I might not have lived to see today's sun."

Snape thought to himself: If it weren't for me, the Inferi probably wouldn't have gone out of control either.

"You know, the owlery at the post office is right next to the Three Broomsticks. That night was truly dangerous. I have to thank you properly, for myself and for those ancestors of mine who were disturbed..."

With that, Madam Rosmerta patted her chest dramatically, and the air around them seemed to tremble with the motion.

"Aber, what are you staring at?" Mary's displeased voice suddenly rang out in the ward.

Unnoticed by the others, Mary had also arrived at the Hospital Wing and was standing by Aber's bed, looking at him with clear dissatisfaction.

"Nothing," Aber said, hastily averting his gaze from Madam Rosmerta.

"I don't think your 'nothing' ever looked you straight in the eye, did it?" Mary said sharply, tossing a box of White Dittany Chocolate onto Aber with an angry huff.

"Alright," Madam Rosmerta said, watching the scene with amusement, then turned to Snape. "I should be going too, Severus.

"You must come by my place sometime. The latest batch of Oak-Ripened Honeywine is almost ready—I'm sure you'll love it..."

With that, Madam Rosmerta gave a light wave, and a bellflower-colored wizard's robe flew to her side.

After draping it over herself, the hem of her dressing gown still peeked out faintly.

Slipping into her fluffy high-heeled slippers, Madam Rosmerta disappeared through the doorway.