Rose stared for a moment, realizing that he did know exactly who she was. She gave him a smile in return, "Pardon my saying this, Professor. But I believe if you were much worse, you'd be dead." It looked so painful, all the deeply colored bruises and cuts. She'd heard that werewolves could practically destroy themselves, and she had proof before her that it was true. It was awful that this happened to him. He was such a genuine and caring person.
"I'll recover. I've just been a bit ill, but Madame Pomfrey can fix me up pretty quickly, I'm sure. My problem is my stubbornness. I should have come hours ago, but it took me this long to relent to myself," Rose explained. She'd inherited the stubborn streaks of both of her parents, but her mother's brains. She had to reason herself into going and it had taken a while.