The Last Sanguimagus

Severus was beginning to wonder what the Headmaster was hiding.

It had been a week already, and he still had not met the new Defence teacher.

Severus had seen a rather annoyed-looking ginger-haired man conversing with Minerva. Sylvester Marten? No, no, Silas Marten, that was it. No doubt he was the new Talismans teacher, another fool sent to try to protect Potter and his minions. He sneered. If they thought the Dark Lord would be put off by an overgrown charm they were quite mistaken.

This still left the mystery of the other new teacher--the former student. He gathered from bits of overheard conversations that the others were not enamored of her. He was immensely relieved that, as the teacher in question was a woman, she could not possibly be a Weasley. Unless she was Molly, of course, but that was highly unlikely. What that woman knew about the Dark Arts could safely fit into a teacup.

Just as perplexing was the subtle hint of Dark Magic that he had felt occasionally since the new teachers had arrived. Dark and somehow...bloody, though he wasn't certain how he had known that. It just felt...strange. The Dark Lord positively reeked of Dark Magic at times, but this was so minute he had nearly dismissed it out of hand at first. He wondered idly if he could borrow one of Dumbledore's Dark Magic Detectors, but then thought against it. It would not do for it to detect the bits and pieces of Dark Magic in his own office.

Dumbledore kept sending him on more errands, giving Severus tasks that he normally would have done himself to prepare for the new school year. Severus knew that the Order was keeping Dumbledore busy, but privately he resented it a little. After all, he had his own work to do, and Order meetings to attend. There were Death Eater meetings as well, though there had been blessedly few this summer due to the Dark Lord's slow recovery after the Ministry of Magic fiasco.

And now this summons to the Headmaster's office. Perhaps this would explain everything. He snorted derisively. More likely the Headmaster wanted to stuff him with sweets and wax poetic about the rousing cheer of owning dormice.

The gargoyle waited impassively for the password. "Chocolate Frog," said Severus, and went up the moving staircase through the oak door. He was across the room in a few quick strides. Dumbledore sat at his desk as usual, and two large chairs faced him.

"Please sit down, Severus," said Dumbledore. "I would like you to meet our new Talismans instructor."

He briefly glanced at the woman who was already seated and sat down in the other chair. "Talismans? I thought--isn't that Marten fellow teaching that class?"

"No, Silas is teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts," replied Dumbledore. He sighed and looked at Severus with great sympathy. "This is Miss Sarah Tanner. She was a Ravenclaw here at Hogwarts in your year." He looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I am sorry to have kept you two apart, but I knew that your--initial reacquaintance with each other would not be--very positive, and I wished for it to occur without an audience, so to speak."

Severus was thoroughly confused, and somewhat irritated. "I'm not certain I understand."

"Severus...you--met her briefly again a few years after you left Hogwarts."

After he left...but that would mean he met her while he was...

He turned and looked at her. She returned his gaze. She still did not immediately look familiar. Sarah Tanner. Then he vaguely recalled having a class or two with her...Herbology, perhaps? She had shoulder length brown hair and pale green eyes. Nothing special. She was sitting very stiffly at the forward edge of the chair, as if afraid of leaning back.

Then it struck him. The room visibly lurched as he fought to retain the contents of his stomach.

"I see you have finally placed her," Dumbledore paused and watched Severus closely. "She has taken a classroom on the ground floor, and the office and private space behind it, given that she has some difficulty with stairs."

"You--you are dead," he gasped. He couldn't even look at her. His hands clutched the arms of the chair so tightly that the wood creaked.

"I am very much alive," she said simply.

It explained the whisper of Dark Magic. After all, it was of his own doing. "The potion..." he near-whispered.

"Still quite strong," she answered.

He raised his head, and looked into her blank green eyes. "You...I don't...I am..."

"I have explained to Sarah that you are--reformed," said Dumbledore. "I know that this situation will be difficult, but I am certain that it will all work out for the best."

Severus looked at him incredulously. It would work out for the best? He shuddered. She should be dead. Merlin knew she had haunted him with guilt for years, and now, to find her here, alive, most likely still cursed with--His stomach gave another flip. "I--I have--I must--" He leapt up out of the chair and made for the door, slamming it wildly behind him as he took the steps two at a time.

***

Sarah heard the door slam and looked back to Dumbledore.

"He has a heavy burden to bear," said the Headmaster. "He has atoned for many of his past mistakes." He gave her a penetrating look. She simply nodded. "I would understand if you avoided him completely, my dear, and I would not blame you. It will be difficult enough keeping up with classes in your--condition."

"I have coped with this for nearly sixteen years," she said evenly. "I will deal with whatever presents itself." She paused for a moment. "I must mention, however, that some of the Professors do not seem happy with my presence here, much less teaching."

"I am aware of their hesitation," answered Dumbledore. "Their concerns about you will not be put to rest easily."

"You know what I've done," she answered. "You know what I made in the past, and how I made it." She unconsciously put her right hand in one of the pockets of her robe. "They are right to suspect me. I believe that one of them has already guessed that I am a Sanguimagus. If this information spreads and finds its way to a student's ear, it will put the parents into an uproar."

He looked at his desk before abruptly switching the topic. "Have you finished with Harry's talisman yet?"

She pulled her hand out of her pocket. Her left arm twinged. "It is nearly done. I need the boy to complete it."

"He will be here very soon. Voldemort's recuperation is nearly complete, and I fear that he will attempt to misuse Harry again."

"I can give you no guarantee that it will work. It might not be able to block enough to make a difference."

"I think you are not giving yourself enough credit." He smiled faintly. "It is an impressive piece of work, especially on such short notice."

She shifted position slightly and nearly winced at the immediate pain the manoeuvre cost her. "It is the best I can do, considering that the--raw material is unavailable to me in large quantities."

Dumbledore grimaced at that and placed a lemon drop in his mouth. A moment or two passed. "Are you nearly prepared for your classes?" he asked.

"Yes. After all, I am only teaching four of them." She began the difficult process of standing up.

"I will always be available, should you need to talk." His face was sympathetic.

"Thank you," she replied, and began walking stiffly to the door.

***