It had taken her some time to catch on. She hadn't even known who the dark haired man was the first few times he had come into the Three Broomsticks. He always ordered a glass of scotch, sat in the corner by the door and left after one drink. Occasionally, Professor McGonagall would join him, the two of them keeping to themselves. Until she saw them exchange a quick kiss, clearly a little too inebriated to keep their wits about them, she would have never guessed the two were lovers.

From the buzz around the pub and conversations with Minerva, Rosmerta eventually learned that the man was Slughorn's replacement for Potions professor. The dark, greasy hair and piercing eyes were suddenly more familiar, and Rosmerta began to vaguely remember Snape from his school days. She had been brand new to the pub during his school years, but, not being much older herself, she had always tried her best to get close to the older students. In his seventh year, she had particularly fancied Sirius Black, obnoxious as he was, she had taken many extra shifts simply in hopes of talking to him.

Snape was just as intriguing. Older now, Rosmerta had grown to appreciate the thrill of a mystery, and that's what Snape was. His face was almost always etched with a mixture of anger and sadness. That was, except for when McGonagall joined him. He was different around her. That had been the first indication to her that something was going on between her former professor and the much younger man. As time went on, their not infrequent meetings became normal.

One evening, a few years into her observations of Snape and McGonagall, Rosmerta walked in for her shift to see McGonagall sitting alone at the bar, a glass of Gillywater in her hand, her usual, Rosmerta noted. What was unusual was that she was seated at the counter rather than her usual table in the corner. "Professor," she nodded. "Missing your usual drinking partner?"

Minerva smirked. "Severus will be along."

"He must be good company. You're here together often enough."

"He's a good conversationalist, yes."

"And just as good under the sheets?" Rosmerta watched as her cheeks reddened.

"Must you really know everything that goes on with your guests?" Her tone was sharp, but the two had spoken enough that McGonagall knew her way.

Rosmerta shrugged, wrapping an apron around her waist and wiping down the bar with a flick of her wand. "I find it passes the time."

A silence fell between them, Minerva nursing her drink, her eyes staring at nothing in particular. She looked deep in thought. Rosmerta waited on a man who sat beside Minerva and said nothing until Minerva spoke again.

"It's odd, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Working here. I mean you must see a lot more than we realize. Like Severus and I. Your old professor-,"

"Ah! You're not old, McGonagall," she replied, smiling slightly.

"Thank you for that assessment, dear. But, it is funny what time does to relationships. I remember you sitting in my classroom, a bright eyed first year in a yellow tie. Now, you're pouring me my Gillywater."

"Was it odd with you and Snape?"

"Hm?"

"Him being your student."

Minerva bit her lip, as if trying to decide how much she should speak on. As cliché as it was, Rosmerta found playing the third party was what she loved most about working the Three Broomsticks. Books and academics had never been much her strong suit, but she loved people. She loved hearing stories, bringing comfort to people, and helping them celebrate. While not what most would think of as an ideal job, Rosmerta was content with her nights behind the bar. "It was. It was something so...unlike me, I must say. But, here we are."

"You seem happy," she mused, resting her hand on the counter and leaning in.

"We are. It's our business and our life. Whatever it is, it is. I'm far too old to worry about impressions and the opinions of others."

"It's nice to see you happy. As a child, you always wonder what your teachers are like when they aren't in class." Rosmerta noticed her glass was empty and refilled it as she spoke. "Funny how things change."

"Indeed. And thank you," she said, indicating her now filled glass.

"How long has it been?"

"How long has what been?"

"You and Snape?"

"6 years."

Rosmerta widened her eyes. "Wow... I knew I'd seen the two of you coming in for some time, but I didn't know it had been that long."

"We were very careful not to go anywhere together for quite some time. He often met me here separately, and we would take a walk or something less conspicuous. But, now we've learned if we are to come alone, what times students and anyone that needn't know about us aren't here."

"Who does know?" McGonagall rolled her eyes.

"The staff."

"No students have caught on?"

"I think they see our usual banter as interlude rivalry, which, don't get me wrong, it is."

"Ah, but there's tension behind it? A little opposites attract?"

"You could say that," she mumbled, quickly finishing off her second drink.

Rosmerta laughed and turned her attention once again to the man beside Minerva as he requested another drink. As she looked up to hand it to him, she saw Snape walk in the door on the opposite end of the pub. "Date's here," she smirked, motioning towards a very confused looking professor.

Minerva turned and waved Severus towards her. He made his way through the increasingly rambunctious group, his face clearly annoyed by the time he reached them. "Gossiping are we, Minerva? Thought that was below you."

"Nothing of the sort," she replied, winking at Rosmerta who concealed a laugh. Snape's eyes narrowed at her. His eyes were dark and more than unnerving when he looked directly at her.

"Oh no," Rosmerta jumped in. "Just discussing some old classmates."

"Hmm," Snape hummed. "Care to move to a table?"

McGonagall nodded. "Of course, I'll bring our drinks." Snape said nothing, turning and heading towards their usual spot in the corner.

"Good conversationalist, huh?"

McGonagall laughed. "We had a good number of issues with our female staff and gossip. He's very suspicious. I'm a private person, but Severus is all lock and key."

Rosmerta smiled and handed her the two drinks. As McGonagall started away, she couldn't help but call her name. "My lips are sealed."

Her former professor looked touched. "Thank you..."

"I know my reputation. When you stand here and listen to stories all day, it can be hard not to let things slip...but I see what you two have is special." She meant it. Whatever it was that was going on between the two, it looked like it needed to be kept secret, for both their reputations. She loved to chat, but she also wanted to make it clear she knew boundaries. She was no Rita Skeeter.

"Rosmerta...I appreciate that."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Minerva," the woman corrected as she made her way to the table where her lover sat.

The pub was beginning to pick up for the evening, and Rosmerta had very little time to muse on her conversation with McGonagall. She tried to glance over with them as much as she could, and every time she looked at them, she smiled. Snape looked more relaxed, and a few drinks in, he had an arm around her. McGonagall was leaning back in her chair, laughing with him. Six years of serving them had flown by, and she hoped for their sack there would be many more.