Part VI
The Lion and the CougarThe Story of Harry and Rosmerta
The obnoxious shrunken heads hanging in the doorway to The Three Broomsticks sprang to life as Harry reached to open the door.
"It's the great Harry Potter," blurted the first one."
"Oh yes. The famous boy who lived" said the second.
"Heheheh. The Chosen One," cackled the third.
"Stupid deadheads," snapped Harry, brushing past them as they continued to laugh.
The door thumped closed behind him as he stepped inside. The place was a madhouse of people celebrating. He quickly surveyed the tables. Seeing an empty one near the back wall, he headed in its direction.
Harry seated himself alone. He leaned forward on his elbows with his head tilted downward. It was easier to ignore the other, more raucous patrons if he was not looking at them. He had not come here looking to socialize—just the opposite, in fact. He would have preferred to be somewhere filled with peace and quiet. However, he was hungry and thirsty. He needed food and a drink.
Harry had returned to Hogwarts for the Gryffindor versus Slytherin fall quidditch match. Ginny had left him over the summer to join the Holyhead Harpies and pursue a career as a professional quidditch player. This caused quidditch to leave a bad taste in his mouth. Still, he felt compelled to attend the match in support of his house.
Across the room, several tables of rowdy Gryffindor fans and players were celebrating the trouncing of their arch-rival Slytherin 340-120. Normally, this would have Harry flying high. He would be in the middle of the celebration. However, to see him today, you might be inclined to think Gryffindor had lost.
A couple of moments passed. Suddenly, there was a thud on the table. Harry looked up. Madam Rosmerta had sat down a butterbeer and was looking at him.
"What are you doing hiding over here, Harry?" she asked. "Shouldn't you be over there whooping it up with the rest of the Gryffindors?"
"Yeah. Probably," he replied as he reached out and took the frothy drink. "I'm just thinking."
"What's got you down?" she asked.
"Nothing. I'm just not in the celebrating mood."
"Nothing?" she replied with a skeptical look. "I have been serving customers here for a long time. I can tell when someone has a problem."
"It's nothing—no—it's actually everything," moaned Harry, suddenly sounding ready to open up. "I—I—I just don't know how to start—I—"
"—Collect your thoughts," she said as she put her hand on his arm. "You look hungry. I'll be right back in a minute. Then, we'll talk about things."
Rosmerta turned and headed for the kitchen. Harry took a deep breath. Could he? Was he ready to talk? Part of him said no. Another part said it might help. Sitting and moaning about it was not going to solve things. If it was, he would have solved it months ago.
A few moments later, Madam Rosmerta arrived back at his table. "Here's a big bowl of stew. I brought a piece of bread for sopping up the broth. You look like you need it—you've lost weight.
"Thanks," said Harry. "That looks great."
"Now, tell me about the dragon in your head."
"It's—it's just life—uh—my whole life. Every time things start to get good, something bad happens. It's like I'm cursed. It's like I am fated not allowed to be happy."
"I thought it was probably girl troubles. But yes, you have had a rough go at life. I heard a lot about it being here. I wouldn't be here if life was fair—if life was easy."
Harry paused then said. "You had a rough life? I thought you loved it here. This stew is delicious, by the way."
"Thanks. It is a family recipe—and I do love it here," she replied. "But it wasn't my dream to be an inn owner. My parent's family and now I have owned this place for over a hundred years. I have worked here since I was old enough to walk and talk. I was going to be a quidditch star like my father and my brother, and—uh—well he is and here I am."
"You played quidditch?"
"Yes. I was a chaser on the Hufflepuff team. Barry played keeper. My brother went on to be the keeper of the Irish National Team."
"Wait a minute," gasped Harry, dropping his spoon back into his bowl. "Your brother is Barry Ryan. I saw him play at the Quidditch World Cup."
"Yes. My name is Rosmerta Ryan. That's my brother. We are a proudly Irish family."
"Wow. But what happened to you?"
"I wasn't good enough to be a pro," she responded. "I stayed here going to school and working at the pub. Then—well—listen to me. I am supposed to be the listener here. Not doing a very good job of it. We're supposed to be talking about you—"
"—No. My story can wait," said Harry as he took a drink of his butterbeer. "Please continue."
"Okay. Let me tend to things for a minute. I'll be right back."
Harry ate his stew. He finished every drop with the aid of some chunks of the crusty bread. Several minutes later, Madam Rosmerta returned with a fresh butterbeer.
"Thanks," he said as she sat it down. That stew was delicious. "Let's continue with your story."
"Well, this is where it gets messed up. My parents started fighting after Barry left to play for the Montrose Magpies before moving on to the National Team. I was too young. I didn't understand it. Then, my mom left and I haven't seen her since. So, it was just my dad and me. After that, he started dressing like a lady. Finally, he left me in charge and went away for a bit. When he returned, he was my mom. How messed up is that?"
"Your dad turned into a lady—uh—your mom? Bloody hell," said Harry, dropping his glass onto the table.
"Yes. Then, in the summer before my seventh year, he up and left with someone named Noel. I haven't seen or heard from him since, either."
"Blimey," forced out Harry, "So—errr—we're both kind of orphans, then."
"Yes, I guess we are. But anyway, I've been here ever since."
"Well. You do an amazing job. I don't know how we would have survived school without the Broomsticks to relax, party, and let off steam."
"Thanks," replied Rosmerta with a smile. "Now, it's your turn. What's going on?"
Harry took a deep breath. He had been so engrossed with Madam Rosmerta's story that he had forgotten all of his troubles. It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts.
"I think you have heard my story a thousand times—more time than you care to remember," Harry finally began. "But you're talking about today, I imagine. What's going on today?"
"Yes," she replied as she pulled away his plate, bowl, and empty glass. She stacked them together off to the side. "Why are you so glum? What's eating at you?"
"Uh—well—I think it's just life in general," he began, trying to organize a lifetime of life kicking him in the bollocks and knocking him down every time he started to feel happy. "I guess I thought things were going to be different after the war. Voldemort was gone for good. Hogwarts and the whole Magical World were on the mend. People were happy. Ron and Hermione finally worked out their relationship. I thought Ginny and I had something special going on—maybe we would even get married. Then, she up and left me to go play professional quidditch. And here I am, drifting along with no prospects, no future, the boy who lived unhappily ever after."
"That is tough, Harry," started Rosmerta, looking for the right words. "I could say things will get better, and there are a lot of other fish in—uh—girls out there. But that's not what you want to hear. It's not going to help."
"I understand," he responded. "I keep thinking things have to get better. I think about girls all of the time—but who?"
"How about your friend Luna? She's a little odd, but she is a lovely, caring person."
She met a guy in a magizoologist program. His name is Rolf Scamander. His grandfather is Newt Scamander. They seem to have hit it off."
"Well, then what about Cho Chang? You used to fancy her."
"Our chemistry didn't work out. It was good for a while. But, the whole thing with her and Cedric, and me being involved—that made it tough. Then, her best friend betrayed Dumbledore's Army. We just couldn't make it work after that."
"Maybe Padma Patil. You took her sister to the Yule Ball. She is smart and gorgeous."
"I like Padma. But no one has seen or heard from her since shortly after the battle. Parvati is listed with 'the missing'. Padma was there at the end. But no one has seen her since."
"Ohhhh," sighed Rosmerta. "You still get my point, though."
"Yes. I know. But it's hard. Maybe it's just me."
"Don't think like that, Harry. You're a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to be with you."
"Maybe."
"Definitely.
Rosmerta excused herself and went to the bar. She tended to a few customers and returned with another butterbeer. "So, where are you staying tonight?"
"Thanks. I think I am just going to floo back to London"
"Why don't you stay here for the night," said Rosmerta. I have several empty rooms upstairs. The guests packed up and left after the match—they were Slytherin fans. Didn't feel in the festive mood. But the rooms are already paid for."
"I don't know," he said.
"Stay. I'll have Filandria clean one up. You can have breakfast here and take the Hogwarts Express home in the morning."
"That actually sounds great. I will stay," said Harry as he pulled out a galleon to pay for the drinks and stew. Madam Rosmerta resisted. But Harry insisted.
"Okay," she finally relented as she waved to Filandria. "But the breakfast comes with the room."
A butterbeer later, Filandria returned from upstairs. She said his room was ready. Madam Rosmerta escorted him upstairs. She pointed out the lavatory before opening the door to Room 5. "If you need anything, pull the chain on the wall. Someone will come up to see you," she said as she pulled the door closed as she left.
The partiers eventually quieted down and Harry drifted off to sleep. The next thing he knew, the sun was hitting his window. He got up and dressed. The smell of food cooking was coming up from below. "Ummmm," he thought. "Bacon, coffee, and bread or biscuits."
When he got downstairs, the inn was empty, which was reasonable. It did not open for several hours. He walked to the kitchen. The only person in it was Madam Rosmerta. She was tending to the bacon and wearing a light-blue, flannel dressing gown.
"Uh—good morning," said Harry.
"Oh," said Rosmerta. "Good. You're up. I was just about to come get you. I doubt anyone else will be up for quite some time. You're housemates nearly drank me dry."
Harry managed a chuckle at her remark. "Gryffindors do have a partying reputation."
"Sit down. How do you like your eggs?"
"Scrambled, please," as he walked out and sat down at the nearest table.
She appeared behind from the kitchen a moment later with two coffee mugs and a kettle of coffee. "Do you need cream or sugar for your coffee?" she asked as she slid the mug to him.
"Some cream, please."
As she bent forward to fill the cups, her gown bagged out exposing her naked body all of the way to the patch of dark blonde hair between her legs. This was only the third time Harry had ever seen a naked girl/lady. Harry had walked in on Hermione twice while she was undressed during the months they lived together on the run in the tent. Hermione's breasts were tiny compared to Rosmerta's. Hermione's were close to the size of a scoop of ice cream. Rosmerta's were like a pair of large grapefruit or small cantaloupe. Hermione kept the brown hair between her legs trimmed short. Rosmerta was blessed with a thick, blonde bush. It caused an uncomfortable stirring between his legs.
Madam Rosmerta stood up and headed back to the kitchen. She returned with cream, salt and pepper, raspberry jam, and butter. As she put the condiments on the table, Harry was treated to an encore showing of her assets.
A few minutes later, she returned with two plates full of crispy bacon, fluffy, scrambled eggs, and two biscuits each. They chatted as they ate. Just as they were finishing a second cup of coffee, the first of last night's partiers started to appear. Madam Rosmerta disappeared. When she reappeared, she was dressed in her customer innkeeper clothes complete with a fresh, clean apron.
An hour later, Harry and a large collection of other folks were on their way back to London.
Harry enjoyed the train ride. It was a good idea to have spent the night. He wished he could thank Madam Rosmerta.
Most of the time on the train was taken up by talking with old friends and new ones. However, visions of Madam Rosmerta's large breasts and hairy nether region were swirling just under his consciousness. It stirred him inside.
Harry wondered what it would feel like to touch her breasts. He had seen but never touched Hermione's. He had touched through her clothes but had never seen Ginny's. And Rosmerta's were larger and more supple-looking. One of them would equal all four of Hermione and Ginny's. And that patch of hair between her legs. Was it soft—coarse—what treasure did it hide?
Time passed. It was a chilly, December Friday. He was headed to Hogwarts for the annual Christmas feast and party before the school adjourned for Christmas break. Harry was thinking about Rosmerta as he got on the train at King's Cross Station.
He spent the ride north talking to old friends and the parents of current students. When they finally arrived at Hogsmeade Station, he headed straight to The Three Broomsticks. Not only was he hungry, he had taken the wise move of reserving a room for two nights.
The shrunken heads sprung into their normal snide remarks as he stepped into the doorway of the inn. However, Harry gave them a slap that stopped them cold, causing them to rattle and bounce around as he stepped inside.
The place was already alive with people who had arrived by other means. He spotted a table with Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbott, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas. As he joined them, Filandria arrived with their drinks. Harry asked for a butterbeer and a large basket of Dragon Scale chips and salsa for the table.
They quickly fell into catching up. Filandria brought him his drink and the chips and salsa. They dug into them as the conversation momentarily sputtered. Suddenly, Harry felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. It was Madam Rosmerta.
"Hello, Harry," she said as she gave his shoulders a friendly squeeze. "It's good to see you. Your room is all ready. Filandria will give you the key."
She disappeared, busy attending to other patrons. The group returned to eating, drinking, and chatting until it was time to call it an evening.
"We're staying upstairs over Zonko's," said Seamus.
"We were lucky to get that," added Dean. "It was probably the last place left in the village. How did you get a place here?"
"I reserved it a month ago," replied Harry.
"See what I said," said Hannah giving Neville the eyes. "Listen to me next time." Neville just gave her a sheepish look.
Harry sat, finishing his butterbeer as the others left. The inn was emptying as people headed off for the night. Madam Rosmerta came over and sat down with a fresh butterbeer and a glass of something else for herself.
"How are you doing, Harry?" she asked. "You seem in better spirits."
"I'm doing okay," he replied, although not convincingly.
"Have you been getting out? Have you been on any dates?"
"No—not really. I've had a couple of cups of coffee," he said as he finished his drink.
"You need to keep at it. The right girl is out there—probably as lost as you are. Maybe the two of you will collide accidentally."
"What about you? Was there ever a guy in your life? Were you ever married?"
"There was—a long time ago. At least it seems a long time, now. I was young, fresh. I married a man named Pasha and had a daughter. He took Katenka when he left me. I had no way to stop him. Then, I met another man. His name was Yuri. He was a muggle—a doctor. We had an affair—hottest thing ever," she said with a blushing chuckle. "We broke up and he married his cousin. I should have hexed him then and been done with it—but unlike Pasha, I really loved him. A few years later, we got back together. It was during the war. I got pregnant. Then we were separated a second time. My daughter, Tanya, was taken from me and he—he had a heart attack and died a few weeks later. Since then, it has just been me and the inn—no one else."
"Oh my! But what about your daughters?" said Harry, seizing onto that key point.
"They dis—disappeared. I ne—ne—never saw either them again—and don't think I—I didn't search," said Rosmerta, her voice faltering as tears formed in her eyes.
"Wow. That is so sad," said Harry as he got up and came around the table to hug her.
His actions caused a momentary stir among the remaining patrons. However, they quickly realized it was nothing romantic. It was something more platonic—more personal.
"Well," said Rosmerta after a moment. "I should get onto cleaning up and closing. I suppose you are ready to call it a night, too. You have a busy day ahead of you with the feast and festivities at the school."
"I think you are right," agreed Harry. "I should head upstairs. I think I'll do a little reading to relax."
A while later, Harry was just about ready to extinguish his lamp and call it a night. Suddenly, there was a tap on his door. He did not want to get up, so he sat up and grabbed his wand. "Alohomora," he said with a swirl followed by "Aperta." A stream of sparks like fleeing fairies hit the door and it swung open. Madam Rosmerta was standing there in her light-blue dressing gown.
"I thought I would check and see if there was anything you needed before I turn in," she said with a sweet smile.
"I—I—I—think I'm fine," he replied. "Thanks for asking."
"Oh. Okay," she said like she had more on her mind. "I thought I might have something you—uh—we wanted—needed.
Harry gave her a puzzled look. He was wondering what she was saying. Then, she stepped close as she untied the sash holding her gown closed. She opened it to reveal the body Harry had been seeing in his daydreams for the past few months. He felt a sudden awakening in his loins.
When Harry woke up the following morning, Rosmerta was already gone. He was not the shy, innocent boy who had never made it fully to second base. He was now a young man who was no longer a stranger in the ways of the woman. He felt strangely satisfied.
Harry found Rosmerta downstairs tending to guests seeking a hearty breakfast before heading up to the castle. He was famished after last night's workout. Looking around, he took a seat with Neville, Hannah, Seamus, and Dean.
Rosmerta brought him two plates containing scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage links, Lorne sausages, black pudding, tattie scones, baked beans, a slice of haggis, and a glass of pumpkin juice without him ordering. She seemed particularly cheerful.
"Blimey, Harry," said Dean. "That's enough to feed Hagrid."
Harry just smiled and started to eat."
A short while later, the five friends were part of a caravan walking up the snowy path to the castle. Inside, the castle was decorated beautifully by the students and staff. Great firs, spruce, and pines with adorned with ornaments, garlands, and enchanted candles. Tables of hors d'oeurves and punch bowls full of drinks made by the house elves were lining the entry leading to the Great Hall.
The feast was, as were all feasts at Hogwarts, beyond compare. He ate until he could eat no more while reliving the good parts of his years at Hogwarts with his friends. It was only when the festivities moved toward becoming a dance that he felt compelled to call it a night.
He made his way back down the path toward Hogsmeade under a shining moon and stars that lit the snow like shimmering black diamonds. The air was so still, he could hear the ice cracking on the Black Lake as it formed. His frozen breath floated like ghosts following him on his way.
When he entered the Three Broomsticks, it was empty except for Madam Rosmerta, Filandria, and two other kitchen workers. All of the guests were still up at the castle enjoying the revelry.
"You're back early," said Rosmerta as he headed toward the stairs.
"I am stuffed and talked out," he replied. "I am going to head upstairs."
He made his way into his room and undressed. Just as he was climbing onto the bed, there were some taps and his door creaked open. It was Rosmerta.
"Filandria staying downstairs to care for the others as they return. I came up to tuck you in."
Harry and Rosmerta picked up where they had left off the night before. She had the energy and desire of nearly twenty years of celibacy to express. He had years of wondering and wanting of learning to be explained and practiced.
It took Harry a lengthy, steaming shower to get him moving and down to breakfast the following morning. The train for London left at eleven o'clock. He needed to be on it.
As he got up from the table to leave, he shared a long, yearning look with Rosmerta. They had more than the raw lust and thrill of the past two nights to reflect on between them. They had connected on a deeper level with the conversations and exposure of shared needs. The age difference was not relevant.
A week later, there was a flash of green as Harry appeared in the backroom fireplace of The Three Broomsticks. Rosmerta was just finishing up with the dinner crowd and transitioning into serving the evening's drinkers. Her face lit up when she saw Harry emerge into the main room.
They shared more than their bodies that night—and on many following nights. They shared their souls. Before long, it was apparent to both of them that they were in love. The only remaining question was how to bring their love out of the shadows and into the light.
Beltane arrived. It was a beautiful spring night. The students and staff of Hogwarts along with many of the residents of Hogsmeade were gathered in a large field for the annual bonfire. Harry and many other former students had made the trip up for the event.
"I've always loved bonfires," said Ron as Hagrid lit the fire with a wave of his umbrella. "We always had them at home."
"It is nice," said Hermione as she scrunched up against Ron on the log the three of them were sharing. "We had a few when my parents to me camping—but nothing like this." Just then, Madam Rosmerta walked up and scooched in beside Harry.
Hi," she said as she sat down, pushing Harry up against Hermione. They all returned the greeting.
After a moment, it became apparent to Harry that Ron and Hermione were wondering why Rosmerta was being so cuddly beside him. Why was she even there? Maybe it was finally time to speak. He was going to need to do it, eventually. He cleared his voice and turned to them.
"Uh, guys. I—I've got something I—uh—I need to say," sputtered Harry over the sounds of the crowd. Ron and Hermione looked at him with puzzled expressions.
A moment passed. Finally, Hermione said, the light of the bonfire dancing in her eyes, "What is it?"
"Yeah. What do you need to say?" asked Ron.
Harry took a big swallow as he looked at his two dearest friends. They had been through a lot together. It was time to tell them. He needed their approval.
"It's me and—uh—Rosmerta. Uh—we're a—uh—we're a couple. We're seeing each other. We're a couple," he finally managed to get out.
He felt Hermione lurch as the shock of his words registered across Ron's and her faces. He squirmed as he waited for them to speak.
"That's swell," said Ron as he finally broke the uncomfortable silence. Great. Really great."
"Yes," managed Hermione as Harry put his arm around her. "Wonderful."
However, neither of their voices sounded convincing. Mostly, they sounded like they wanted to say 'What the bloody hell?"
The group sat quietly for several minutes. Rosmerta stood and said she needed to get back to work. The inn was helping the house elves with the drinks and treats for the event. Harry got up, as well. He gave her a hug and a kiss. Granted, it was dark and people were occupied, but this was their first open display of affection. It felt good—unbinding. Then, she left as Harry sat back down.
As she disappeared, Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. Their expressions were as transparent as a ghost. "I know what you're thinking, guys," he said.
"Blimey, mate, It's just—" said Ron as he looked over.
"Uh—Harry, I—uh—" said Hermione, trying unconvincingly to respond.
"—Don't deny it. I would be thinking the same thing if I were you. But let me talk.
Ron and Hermione sat back with their arms around each other. They loved and respected Harry. They were prepared to listen before moving forward with their thoughts and questions.
"I know how this looks," said Harry as he began. "I know how far apart we are in age. We don't need to go there This is the best relationship I have ever had. It really works. We are two damaged people who understand how to love and respect each other. You—"
"Dama—" started Ron before catching a swat on his shoulder and a sharp glare from Hermione. It was not as forceful as Ginny would have given him but equally effective.
"You know my life story," said Harry, restarting after the interruption. "Rosmerta has had a rough go of it, too. Before we came to school…and she searched and searched but has never found her daughters."
"Bloody hell," gasped Ron. "We never knew."
Hermione was openly weeping in response to the part about her daughters being stolen and never seeing her again. She released Ron and wrapped her arms around Harry. "That is a horrible story," she said as she wept into his shoulder. "Maybe you two are made for each other."
Yeah, mate. What she said," added Ron. "I'm with both of you all the way."
Thanks. You guys are the best," said Harry as he started to cry. The stress of holding their relationship a secret was overwhelming him now that it was out.
Over the next few months, the word of their unlikely relationship made its way through the magical world. Any negative comments were quickly quashed by Ron, Hermione, and eventually the entire Weasley family as well as a few professors and other friends. Even Rita Skeeter was restraining her normally razor-sharp quill. No one was going to mess with them on their watch.
Harry returned to his position as a junior auror. Rosmerta tended to The Three Broomsticks.
Once Harry became a full-fledged auror, Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt arranged for Harry to be assigned to serving Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, and the surrounding villages.
On a clear day in early June, the Minister presided over their marriage before a select group of friends.
They moved into a secluded cottage overlooking the furthest reach of the Black Lake. It had an express flue between it and the inn. Harry used it as his auror office. This gave them the seclusion they relished and the easy access to civilization they needed.
On a late summer day in August, Rosmerta blessed their union with a daughter. They named her Katenka Tanya, Katya in honor of Rosmerta's stolen daughters. A year later, they received a second blessing in the form of a son. He was named James Sirius in remembrance of Harry's father and godfather.
Katya grew tall and strong like her mother. She had thick, reddish-blonde hair and almost hypnotic, green eyes. James grew taller and slimmer. He had Harry's unruly hair and eyesight that required round glasses like his father to focus the green eyes of his parents.
One day, as twilight was settling in, Harry and Rosmerta were swinging on their porch swing as the children played on the lakeshore. A flock of noisy ravens were heading for their roost. James had been trying to teach Katya how to skip stones. Now, a pair of loons captured their attention as they started calling back and forth. The children began laughing and trying to imitate the loons.
Katya would be starting Hogwarts in less than a month. It was cause for a moment of awareness in respect to the passing of time. Their love for each other was thunderous in it silence as they leaned on each other as they rocked.
Later, as the children were headed off to bed, Harry asked, "Did you ever think a pair like us could find each other? I cannot imagine a better life than we have."
"I know," replied Rosmerta. "I had given up a long time before we had that conversation in the inn. And I still can't believe a young man like you would give an old lady like me a second look."
They looked at each other as their love filled the room. So, two imperfect puzzle pieces found their most perfect, improbable, matching piece. And they lived happily fit together ever after.
The End
Thank you for reading my story.
Please consider reading all of the stories in the series Tales of the 7 Potters
1. The Quiet House by the Sea-Harry and Luna Lovegood
2. Harmony-Harry and Hermione Granger
3. The Free Bird Returns-Harry and Ginny Weasley
4. The Unlikely Pearing-Harry and Daphne Greengrass
5. Double Your Pleasure, Double Your Fun-Harry and the Patil Twins
6. The Shedding of Skin-Harry and Pansy Parkinson
7. The Lion and the Cougar-Harry and Madam Rosmerta