i am snape

Madam Rosmerta was a strikingly beautiful woman, with graceful curves and a warm, inviting nature. Even twenty years later, Ron Weasley couldn't help but blush and secretly fancy her for quite some time upon meeting her.

Ever since Madam Rosmerta took up residence in the Hospital Wing, the atmosphere in the school had shifted dramatically. It seemed as if male students, as if by prior arrangement, were suddenly falling ill or getting injured. The once empty Hospital Wing was now completely full. Madam Pomfrey, faced with this chaotic scene, had to lose her temper, sternly shooing away those boys who were clearly well but lingering in bed, pretending to be sick.

When Pandora learned that Abbot had inexplicably suffered from sudden memory loss and had somehow gotten his leg caught in a mischievous staircase, spraining his ankle, forcing him into the Hospital Wing, she decided to visit him purely out of concern for a friend.

"Are you sure you want to go?" Snape asked, a peculiar note in his voice. "Believe me, there's nothing pleasant to see there."

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

"Ugh, fine," Snape conceded, seeing the sparkle in her eyes. He had no choice but to accompany her to the Hospital Wing.

"Are you injured again?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, her face dark, scrutinizing Snape suspiciously from head to toe.

"No injuries, we're just visiting a friend," Pandora declared cheerfully, stepping forward. "Patrick Abbot."

"Oh," Madam Pomfrey's expression softened considerably at the sight of Pandora, and she nodded slightly. "You may go in. He's in bed number six."

---

Pushing open the door, Snape immediately spotted Abbot. He had one foot wrapped in green herbal poultices and was engrossed in a book titled *How to Brew with Your Cauldron: The Ultimate Secrets of Firewhisky*, shaking his head as he turned the pages. Yet, his eyes kept darting to the side, and a strange smile played on his face, clearly believing his demeanor to be quite noble and profound.

Following Abbot's gaze, a few beds away, Madam Rosmerta was leaning against a feathered cushion. She was wearing a silk dressing gown embroidered with dragons, its color perfectly complementing her skin. Her slender, pale feet rested casually on the mattress, her toenails a delicate shade of pink.

Sunlight streamed into the room. An owl, clutching a newspaper in its beak, flew in through the window. Madam Rosmerta gently took a copy of the *Daily Prophet* from its beak. Then, she retrieved five small copper coins from nearby and placed them into a small leather pouch tied to the owl's leg. Having received its payment, the owl flapped its wings and flew back out through the open window.

"Hey, Abbot," Pandora said, walking over to his bedside, her voice full of concern. "How are you doing?"

"As you can see," Abbot reluctantly tore his gaze away, dramatically closing his book, and said with a pained expression, "my ankle is sprained. I need to rest it properly."

"Shouldn't Madam Pomfrey be able to heal that in a flash?" Snape asked skeptically.

"Alas, you wouldn't understand," Abbot sighed deeply, looking helpless. "My ankle was bitten by a Horklump when I was a child. Ever since then, healing magic hasn't worked quite as well on it. I can only apply poultices and wait for it to recover slowly."

"What trick are you playing?" Snape whispered, leaning closer to Abbot. He knew perfectly well that Horklumps were nothing more than fleshy, pink, mushroom-like magical creatures. The largest thing they could bite was a small earthworm, so how could they possibly cause such lasting side effects?

"Shh!" Abbot glanced at Pandora, afraid she might overhear, and quickly turned his head to whisper to Snape, "**Finite Incantatem.** I used **Finite Incantatem**."

"Your nonverbal spell work is surprisingly swift when it suits you."

Snape had barely finished his jibe when he immediately understood the reason for Abbot's elaborate charade.

Madam Rosmerta let out a languid sound, drawing everyone's attention. Looking over, they saw Madam Rosmerta put down her newspaper and let out a soft yawn, like a kitten just waking up. She sat up and slowly stretched, a glimpse of her figure subtly revealed. Then, she gracefully stood, slipped her feet into exquisite furry high-heeled slippers, and padded towards Abbot's bed. Every sway of her hips was pure charm.

Abbot's mouth fell open in surprise, and he stammered, "Ma-Madam... hello, thank you."

Madam Rosmerta looked at him with some confusion, clearly not understanding why Abbot was thanking her. Without further ado, she turned her gaze to Snape, a captivating smile on her face. "Hello, Severus."

Her height was quite striking; she was even half a head taller than Snape currently was. Looking at Madam Rosmerta's shapely figure standing before him, Snape didn't know where to put his eyes for a moment and could only stammer back, "Hello, Madam Rosmerta."

"You finally came," Madam Rosmerta chuckled softly. "I've been waiting for you all day."

"Ah?" Snape was stunned, blurting out, "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 seen the light of day."

*If it weren't for me*, Snape thought to himself, *the Inferi probably wouldn't have gone out of control in the first place.*

"You know, the Owlery is right next to the Three Broomsticks. That night was truly dangerous. I must thank you on behalf of myself and my disturbed ancestors..." Madam Rosmerta said, exaggeratingly patting her chest, making the air around them seem to quiver.

"Abbot, what are you staring at?" Mary's displeased voice suddenly echoed in the ward.

It turned out that while no one was paying attention, Mary had also arrived at the Hospital Wing and was now standing by Abbot's bed, looking at him with clear displeasure.

"Nothing," Abbot mumbled, hastily averting his gaze from Madam Rosmerta.

"I imagine your 'nothing' isn't even looking at you properly, is it?" Mary retorted sharply, huffily throwing a box of Dittany chocolates onto Abbot.

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

"You must come visit me sometime. The latest batch of oak-aged mead is almost ready, and I'm sure you'll love it..."

With that, Madam Rosmerta gave a slight gesture, and a bellflower-colored wizard's robe flew to her side. Even with the robe draped over her, the hem of her dressing gown still peeked out tantalizingly. Madam Rosmerta, clacking softly in her fluffy high-heeled slippers, vanished at the doorway.