"Don't worry, Neville, dear," Selena cooed before chanting a wordless "Ferula!" and both the Mediwizard and patient's eyes affixed itself on the bandages that slowly wrapped around the damaged arm. "It's really not as bad as it looks."
"Feels worse than it looks though," The first-year Gryffindor grumbled under his breath.
Selena sighed, she couldn't possibly lie about that. "Yes, well, I'm positive that the pain will ease sooner or later. Just don't move it too much." She beckoned him to further lie on the bed. "You're welcome to stay until lunch."
"But then, I'll miss Potions." It sounded more of a question in his fragile tone.
"As long as you're here, you're excused, Neville. You have a valid reason to be." The Mediwizard said as she tidied the materials at the foot of his bed. "Unless you don't want to stay?"
"No! No… That's not what I mean. I really want to stay." That evoked a chuckle out of Selena. "It's just... Professor Snape... " Now, she wanted to laugh more, for she initially thought the boy was joking, but the clear apprehension in his face meant otherwise. "What if he counts this as an absence?"
"Oh, I'll make sure it won't be. He can't force you to write or brew with a broken arm." She assured, but the boy remained nothing but doubtful of her statement.
One thing Selena had discovered—and quickly disapproved of—during the past few days of the start-of-term was Snape's unfairness towards his students. When he mentioned one time that he was quite popular around the campus, she didn't imagine it this way; In which, he was loathed by almost everyone—His "Slytherin kids" were the exception.
"Don't call them that." Rebuked the potioneer the afternoon before.
Selena frowned, "But it's cute." He glared at her, causing her to erupt in giggles.
There were stories from the few students she had attended to and hushed murmurs circulating around the school of his poor treatment, but they were of anything but the present year, which meant he hasn't performed anything out of line yet. She reminded herself to reprimand her colleague if ever something does arise, as Selena was never one in favor of child maltreatment—coming from experience, but that was a topic not open for discussion with anybody who wasn't Dumbledore and McGonagall.
She deeply wondered what it was like to participate in Potions with Professor Snape as the teacher. If he really was a malice as students proclaim him to be, Selena would never know. Her view of him was very dissimilar to the students' own. In her mind, the intimidation that Severus initially radiated revealed itself to be an admirable cunningness, his snide remarks and sarcasm were enough to prove that, something the Mediwizard found very amusing. In addition to that was the mysteriousness in the dark and distant eyes he owned, despite the sharpness that tried its best to cover it up. There was more to his past that she had yet to find out, excluding the tormenting of his childhood rivals, which everyone who knew the Marauders were aware of.
Selena never liked remaining in the dark. She was always itching to learn new things about everything she didn't know about. She made it a hidden challenge to discover the true character of the closed off, brooding man who dwelled in the dungeons. They weren't friends, but they were past the level of acquaintanceship. It's only been a week since they met, anyway. There was still more to discover than what was already discovered.
Lunch commenced just as a group of four—no—five young Gryffindors noisily stormed inside the Hospital Wing. They crowded Neville's napping figure, seeming reluctant to disturb his clear serenity.
Selena momentarily pulled away from her book to attend to them. "Good afternoon, Gryffindors. You must be Neville's friends." They all turned to her suddenly, confusion spreading from one face to another. She chuckled, "I'm Miss Stellifer, the new Mediwizard. Let me wake Neville for you, dears."
When the injured boy stirred, he instantly smiled at the presence of his newfound Housemates. "What are you all doing here? Is Potions over?"
"Yeah, thankfully." The red-head snorted, and Selena hid her smile. "How's your arm?"
"Still hurts." Neville frowned briefly. "But it will heal in a few days. Right, Miss Stellifer?"
Selena nodded at the boy. "Yes, dear. Just follow the precautions I told you and it will be good in no time."
"I will." And the boy proceeded to groggily sit up with her help. "Miss Stellifer, these are my friends." He began naming the Gryffindors from left to right, starting with the only girl of their ilk. "That's Hermione Granger, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Ron Weasley and the great Harry Potter."
"Hey," Ron, the previously unnamed red-head, scowled at Neville. "How come only Harry gets a fancy greeting?"
"Simple. Harry's great, you're not." Teased Seamus, who elicited a laugh from everyone who wasn't Ron. He earned a playful smack from the latter, but the red-head soon admitted defeat, as well.
"Well, he is pretty great." Ron shrugged.
"Great at searching for trouble, that's for sure." Hermione retorted, and everyone spurred into laughter once again. The schoolgirl fished something out of her robes and handed it over to Neville. It was a Remembral. "Harry had to chase Malfoy on his broom for that, even if Hooch clearly said not to lift a foot off the ground until she returned."
"McGonagall caught him, and we thought he was dead meat." Dean added, "Turns out, it happened the other way around. He was commended, now he's the new Gryffindor Seeker."
"Seeker?" Neville parroted in apparent surprise. "What? For Quidditch?"
"No, Neville, for Hide-And-Go-Seek." Ron grumbled, to which the injured boy simply turned to him, unamused. On the contrary, Harry found it funny, snickering beside them. "Of course, Quidditch! He'll be the youngest—"
"The youngest Quidditch Seeker of the century." Selena finished in amazement, making all eyes turn to her, but her own was fixed on Harry.
She studied his youthful face, thanking that by chance, the light was good and his hair propped to one side, she discerned the infamous scar on his forehead, an unappreciated gift from You-Know-Who before his unexpected downfall. The Mediwizard pitied Harry, the inexplicable feeling of losing both parents was no stranger to her. Though, she considered him lucky that he owned no memories of them, as it would only hurt him more. She could prove that.
"That's right." Harry answered her awkwardly—or skeptically—after being under her intense gaze. Thankfully, the others didn't seem to notice it. "McGonagall said so, too."
"That's great, Harry!" Neville beamed.
"I agree." Selena added. "It's a great deal, playing Quidditch. You'll have nothing but fun, I trust. Congratulations, Harry." She offered him a smile, to which the boy mirrored, but his skepticism remained. The Mediwizard began to humorously shoo them away, "Now, off to lunch, Gryffindors. It doesn't last forever."
"I wish it did." Ron sighed, making Selena chuckle again. "I also wish I skipped Potions with you, Neville."
"You'd rather a broken arm?" Hermione inquired. "It's quite painful, if you didn't know." Ron simply rolled his eyes at her sarcastic retort.
"Either way is painful, honestly." Harry shrugged, rousing another set of united snickers. The group finally began seeing their way out.
"I'm just saying, though, we can get rid of broken bones faster than we can with Potions." Dean pointed out, followed by a whole-hearted laugh from Seamus.
"You know, that gives me an idea." He said, and what followed, Selena didn't know, as the Mediwizard was finally out of their earshot.
Poor Gryffindors, it's only been days since the school year began. Selena quietly wished them luck for the next six years to follow.
Neville was her last patient of the day, as the infirmary remained barren until dinner, save for the presence of Selena and occasionally, Madam Pomfrey, who was rather occupied with who-knows-what in the office below. The Mediwizard spent the afternoon brewing new batches of Pepperup, to which Poppy praised her for.
"Thank you so much for offering to brew, dear, even if it is quite a tedious occupation." Cried Poppy after bringing up empty vials for the potion. "I know you'd rather prefer the more complex work of Mediwizards in St. Mungo's than day-jobs like this."
"Oh, Poppy, don't say that." Selena frowned, "I prefer occupation of any kind than none at all. I don't do it for the complexity, I do it for the importance. Our service is not for us, it's never for us, but for the people—for children, in this case."
The matron smiled at her with adoration. "You're right, you're right." Poppy shifted her weight on her other leg, arms crossing. "Are you quite sure you don't want to advance to a Healer?"
Selena released a snort, "Merlin, no. Now, that's too much work" She smiled with her usual cheekiness. "Besides, I love my position."
Half-way through the potion making, and Poppy long gone—this time, the matron's presence was requested by the Headmaster—Selena was relieved to have reached a favorable step; To let the concoction boil for ten minutes or so. For her, it meant ten minutes of reading as much as she could, and with that she opened the book laying closed on a separate desk nearby. It was her father's vintage copy of the Phantom of the Opera, something she's never bothered reading for a while now. Though, she'd prefer Sense and Sensibility at the moment, as she would at any moment, but seeing as Severus hasn't finished, reading it was unlikely until then.
"Has Miss Stellifer caught the flu?" A baritone voice abruptly resonated from across the room and it took Selena by surprise, almost dropping the book in the process of flinching.
"Is this going to become a reoccurring thing between us?" The Mediwizard scowled, contrary to the ghost of a smirk that haunted Severus' lips.
"You, know, when I visit infirmaries, the staff are usually quite amiable." He raised a brow as he slowly approached her while she relaxed back into her chair.
Selena rolled her eyes, "Well, usually, Professor, they aren't seconds away from a heart-attack, but since I do not wish to let down your standards of infirmaries, how can I help you?"
He scoffed, looking around. "I'm merely seeking for Poppy. I've something to inquire about some ingredients."
"We didn't steal anything from your cupboard, if that's what you're going to ask." Severus boredly turned to the Mediwizard's animated self. "Poppy's currently in a meeting with the Headmaster."
"Will she be long?"
"I don't think so."
"Then, I shall wait."
"Suit yourself." Selena said before sparing a glance back down at her book. "Speak of the devil, though. I was just thinking about you, Professor."
It was the potioneer's turn to scowl, as if he's heard the most ridiculous ever. "Thinking about me?" He drew the words with clear bewilderment.
"Not in the dreamy way!" Selena cringed. "More like I was reminded of you, especially after this dialogue I've just read and thought of my beloved Sense and Sensibility book still in your possession."
"I'll return it by dinner, if you wish."
"Have you finished?"
"No."
"Then, don't return it! Finish it! That's why I lent it to you in the first place." Selena retorted, and the more Severus stared at her with ridicule in his gaze. She chuckled afterwards, beckoning him to pull a chair and sit. "And to answer the question which almost made the soul jump out of my body; No, I have not caught the flu. I'm merely restocking our Pepperup."
The potioneer huffed at her claim, and took a seat just in arms reach. "Now, answer me this; Pray, what such dialogue reminded you of me?"
The Mediwizard smiled lopsidedly while opening her book and clearing her throat to read the dialogue aloud, she swore she heard Severus exhale a "Dear Merlin,"
"Never!... I will not have you go there!... Besides, it's not mine... EVERYTHING THAT IS UNDERGROUND BELONGS TO HIM!" Selena recited in between laughs, and it only loudened at the unamused expression Severus bore afterwards.
"Take my advice, Miss Stellifer, and never become a commentator or story teller of any sort." He only made Selena laugh harder. "Christine Daae would never be proud, should she hear it."
"You know Phantom!" Selena gasped with a newfound excitement.
"I've read it, yes."
"How about the play?"
"I have no time for plays, Miss Stellifer, let alone, associating myself with muggles."
"First of all, that's racist." Severus only frowned. "Muggles aren't that bad, despite whatever blood status you uphold." Selena argued determinedly, but quickly returned to her jovial self. "Secondly, I'll take that as a no, then. I've seen the play with a friend once, it was spectacular. You should one day, too, you know."
"I take it, you're fond of muggles."
"Half-bloods usually are." She said with a slightly questioning tone. "Inevitably, I'd be a blood-traitor to one life if I practiced partiality to another; It goes both ways."
"You're a half-blood?" His brows rose, slightly surprised at the disclosure.
"I am." Selena nodded. "But I'm not telling you off merely because of it, I'm just never in favor of prejudice, especially of that stupid pure-blood mania."
"I see... but I should tell you, I'm not pure-blood." Severus revealed, making her blink in confusion.
"Muggleborn?" He shook his head. "Then, you're a half-blood, too?"
"Problem?"
"Yes, problem! Your evident dislike for muggles and their ways! Which, I must say, are just as good as ours." Selena groused on, to which he sighed irritably. "It's no wonder why you don't get any of my references."
"I know books." .
"Yeah, but just books." She asked with a shrug. "You don't even know the Bee Gees! And everyone knows the Bee Gees."
Severus huffed, "Miss Stellifer, I have my reasons for distaste of muggle life."
"And unless you've met every muggle in the world, your reasons are valid, but since that's impossible, I must rectify this predicament."
The potioneer rolled his eyes. "Rectify? How?" The question sounded challenging, that it morphed a grin on Selena's face. His own seemed to falter, as if regretting he even asked.
"Why, I'll simply show you what you've been missing, Professor."
Severus hummed in his own unenthusiastic way, probably regretting his coming here. He lazily pointed at the Pepperup. "Stir your potion first. It'll turn into Living Death if you don't, and I don't want to be suspected of mass murder."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She dismissed with a wave, "And then muggle stuff after?"
"Stir the potion."
"Answer the question."
Severus showed her a deadpan stare, but after accepting that she wasn't going to back down, he sighed and said, "Fine, yes, sure, whatever. Now, stir."
The Mediwizard has never stirred as fervently in her life as she is now.