"Long time no see, Severus," Madam Rosmerta said, setting her tray on the table and gracefully pulling out a chair to sit down. Her long, chestnut hair cascaded to her waist, and her wine-red lips curled into a captivating smile. She turned to Pandora and said, "Little sister, your Butterbeer, as always."
Madam Rosmerta carried a unique floral scent about her. In the warm pub, this scent, like a cool breeze, drifted into Snape's nose.
"Try some," Madam Rosmerta said, elegantly pinching a cork with her fingers, and with a pop, she pulled it out, pouring some amber-flowing mead into two glass goblets. "I'll have to get back to the bar after this one."
"Thank you, Madam," Snape said, nodding slightly, raising his goblet and lightly clinking it against hers.
The fragrance of oak and the sweetness of honey intertwined and melted in Snape's mouth. He had never tasted such delightful mead before, and he found he quite liked it.
"That's not fair," a slurred voice piped up. "I want a drink with you too!"
Mundungus Fletcher, a grimy black pipe dangling from his mouth, was aggressively banging on the table.
"Pipe down, Mundungus!" Madam Rosmerta snapped, without even turning her head. "If you want to be banned from the Three Broomsticks too, keep thumping your filthy hands!"
"Cough, cough." Mundungus took a sharp drag from his pipe, a large mouthful of ash catching in his throat. He coughed until his face was bright red, quickly retracting his hand. He had been banned from the Hog's Head Inn last year, and with Aberforth's memory, he'd likely have to disguise himself as a witch to sneak back in. If he got banned from the Three Broomsticks as well, he'd have nowhere left to go.
After his coughing fit subsided, Mundungus shoved his pipe back into his pocket. The smoke dissipated, but the pungent smell of burnt socks lingered stubbornly.
Madam Rosmerta refilled Snape's goblet halfway, then left the bottle on the table, rose, and returned to the bar to continue her work.
"Is it good?" Pandora asked, curiously eyeing the mead in Snape's hand.
"Not bad," Snape replied. "Would you like to try? I'll get you a fresh glass."
With that, Snape got up to fetch a clean glass from the bar. As he passed Mundungus, he heard him whispering conspiratorially to a hooded wizard sitting nearby.
"Heard about Bode? He's in St. Mungo's," Mundungus's voice hissed through his teeth.
"Oh, I knew that back at the beginning of the month when I went to Borgin and Burkes. Borgin said he'd been sent to that special ward on the fifth floor of St. Mungo's, the one for people whose minds are addled by magic..." the hooded wizard replied in a hushed tone.
"Aye, aye, the Spell Damage ward. Bode was always dabbling in some obscure Dark Arts; I always figured it was only a matter of time before he ended up there," Mundungus sneered, a smug look on his face.
"That's a good thing for us, eh?" the hooded wizard chuckled.
"I agree. Though Borgin ain't much better, he's still a sight better than Bode. Bode always drove down my prices. Last July, I brought him a bottle of Acromantula venom, and he insisted the quality wasn't high enough, only gave me twenty Galleons," Mundungus grew more and more agitated as he spoke, his chin trembling.
"Oh, come off it, I know all about your tricks. Are you going to tell me that bottle of venom wasn't watered down..."
"Excuse me," Snape finally interjected, unable to help himself as the two wizards drifted further and further off topic. "Were you speaking of Caractacus Burke?"
"Who else could it be? Oh, it's you, boy," Mundungus grumbled, noticing Snape, a hint of annoyance on his face. "What do you want, Rosmerta's little man?"
"Mr. Mundungus," Snape said, enduring the pungent smell emanating from Mundungus, asking patiently, "Do you know when Caractacus Burke was admitted to St. Mungo's?"
"Hahahaha, did you hear that?" Mundungus laughed exaggeratedly, turning to the wizard beside him. "He called me 'Mister'!"
"So you don't know?"
"Mind your manners, boy," Mundungus drawled. "Since you called me 'Mister,' I'll be merciful and tell you. Burke's mind went addled in September. I heard Borgin waited several days at the shop for him to show up for his shift and, getting fed up, finally went to his house. And guess what? Borgin found him sitting on the floor, wand clutched in his hand, babbling nonsense like a fool, just 'ababa, ababa.' If Borgin hadn't gone to check on him, Burke probably would've starved to death."
"What happened to Burke?" Snape pressed further.
"Dark magic!" Mundungus slammed his hand on the table. But he immediately shrank his neck, glancing cautiously towards the bar, afraid Madam Rosmerta might notice. Gathering himself, he continued, "Borgin said he used a Reverse Spell to replay the last spells cast by Burke's wand. Apparently, it was an exceptionally wicked piece of ancient Dark magic, very risky..."
"It's not that simple," the hooded wizard chimed in, leaning closer and whispering conspiratorially. "Borgin tried to look into Burke's memories, but there was nothing there, just a scrambled mess, like porridge."
"What did the Ministry say?" Snape asked again.
"Pfft—" The hooded wizard let out a scoff. "Are you jesting? How could Borgin let the Aurors look into Burke's mind? He probably even helped scramble Burke's brains himself!"
"Hey, kid," Mundungus beckoned to Snape, a sly grin on his face, and lowered his voice. "I've answered so many of your questions," he said, cunningly pointing at the empty goblet in front of Pandora, "how about you give me that glass?"
It was the glass Madam Rosmerta had just used, still bearing the mark of her wine-red lips.
Pandora was looking over, seemingly wondering why Snape was lingering for so long.
"Goodbye," Snape said, his mouth twitching, and quickly walked towards Pandora, holding the empty glass.
"It's so good," Pandora said, her eyes lighting up as she held the mead Snape had poured for her and took a sip. "Mmm... sweeter than Butterbeer."
"But Butterbeer's fresh, malty flavor has its own charm, doesn't it?"
"Indeed. Shall we go, then? Explore somewhere else?"
"Oh, just a moment." Snape drew his wand and murmured, "**Evanesco!**" The glass and the Butterbeer mug instantly vanished, dissolving into nothingness.