The Last Sanguimagus

Severus was stirring the fever-reducing potion clockwise in his usual precise fashion, deep in thought.

He could not fathom why the Dark Lord was so interested in Silas. His mind would not leave the issue alone. He needed to know how Silas could possibly be dangerous or useful to the Dark Lord. Certainly the new teacher was at least barely versed in the Dark Arts; even Minerva had said as much. But there was no evidence to suggest any connection or anything even remotely suspicious about him. Severus was frustrated to the extreme.

Though he had never been a member of the "inner circle" of Death Eaters, he still prided himself on being able to piece together information about their plans and deliver the appropriate warnings. In fact, he'd been rather good at it before the first defeat of the Dark Lord. And his second round had begun well.

But he knew, somehow, that things had changed subtly. So many people were dependent on this information, and it could all go wrong so quickly. Somehow it seemed linked back to Silas. The Dark Lord had called Severus to the meeting to find out about the new professor, and he could not understand why. He knew that there was some darker meaning behind this. The Dark Lord never did things without a purpose. The potion changed colour, finally, and he performed a Cooling Charm and began to bottle the liquid.

He yawned and knew that it was definitely time to try to sleep. His mind was running foolishly in circles and he was accomplishing nothing. He would send up the latest supplies to the hospital wing in the morning.

***

Sarah knew, instinctively, that she had pushed herself too far. Creating the defensive amulet for Harry had exhausted her. She sat at the desk and rested her head on her arm. The cool night breeze from the open window felt wonderful on her overheated body. Without warning she fell asleep, her tired mind shutting down.

***

Harry entered the Gryffindor common room feeling like new. He had overslept a little and most of the Gryffindors had gone to breakfast already. There was a cheery fire blazing and Ron and Hermione were sitting next to each other with their arms crossed, studiously ignoring each other. "G'morning!" he said happily.

"Morning, Harry," said Hermione stiffly.

"What's bothering you two now?" asked Harry.

"He acted ridiculously last night," huffed Hermione. "I think--"

Ron looked at her incredulously. "Ridiculous? Even Harry said it made sense--"

"Both of you, stop!" he said loudly. They looked at him resentfully. "Listen, it's done now, and if she says yes, we have a place to practice. We'll just have to be careful about what we say around her, that's all. I think that most of the other teachers would have said no. And can you imagine asking Trelawney? Or Vector? It's better to have asked Tanner, I think." He hoped he sounded convincing, because he still wasn't totally convinced himself.

"But Harry, she's so--we don't know anything about her!" said Hermione worriedly.

Ron looked as if he was going to start arguing again. "I think it'll be fine," said Harry as casually as possible, heading Ron off before he could start another heated debate. "We've really got to get to breakfast--I don't want to be late for our first Defence class--" At that Hermione looked alarmed, and they both stood up.

Even though neither looked fully satisfied, he could tell that they were at least putting it aside for now. Hermione was back to normal, agonising over whether three times through was enough readings for the Defence textbook.

They were so late coming into the Great Hall that as soon as they were seated the mail arrived. Owls swooped overhead, dropping parcels and letters to excited students. A terrible shouting at the Hufflepuff table announced a Howler. An owl dropped a Daily Prophet to Hermione, and Ron was eagerly opening a small package from Mrs. Weasley.

Harry was surprised when another owl swooped down to Hermione and dropped something golden. Who would be owling her? She looked confused as well, and examined the object. It looked remarkably like a Golden Snitch.

"What's that?" asked Ron, tearing his attention away from the tarts his mum had sent.

"I don't know," said Hermione, examining the faux Snitch. "Hmm...it has hinges..." She tapped it a few times with a finger, and then tried to pry it apart.

The Snitch suddenly jumped out of her hand and split open. A head appeared inside. A head with black hair and impressive eyebrows. It began to speak loudly. "Herm-own-ninny, vhere are you? I have missed you. I have owled and owled, yet no reply--"

Hermione turned bright red and grabbed the mock Snitch, slamming it shut. It was too late. The entire Slytherin table broke out into fits of laughter, and even the Gryffindors were finding it difficult to restrain from giggling. Professor McGonagall stared at them disapprovingly from the head table.

"Hey!" said Harry, noticing an empty seat. "Where's Professor Tanner?"

Ron had a strangely smug expression on his face, but it vanished as he scanned the head table. "Maybe she already had breakfast and left," he said, shrugging.

Hermione unfolded her Daily Prophet and attempted to hide behind it. "We're going to be late," came her voice, slightly muffled.

Harry suddenly realised the time and began to bolt his food. No, he did not want to anger Professor Marten any more than possible. He needed to continue getting top marks in his Defence classes if he wanted to become an Auror.

***

Severus noticed that Sarah had not shown up for breakfast. As he mechanically ate his eggs his mind wandered. Had she gotten there early and already left? That did not seem to mesh with what little he had seen of her so far. She had been on the late side more often than not.

He already had a headache this morning, a reminder of a near-sleepless night filled with worry-induced bad dreams. He was in a foul mood. Irritably he stabbed his toast in his egg yolk, wishing he had remembered to bring a pain relieving potion with him to the meal.

Potter and his minions suddenly entered the hall, quickly taking their seats.

There was something...different. He noticed it immediately. Potter was happy. It could, of course, simply point to something as brainless as Quidditch, but he was convinced it was more than that. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated. He was not terribly accomplished at Legilimency, but Potter made it easy, radiating his thoughts and moods for all to see. At first he could tell nothing--he was not really close enough, and Potter was not looking at him--but with another minute or two he could immediately tell what had happened.

The Dark Lord's imprint, which had clung to the boy and become stronger and stronger over the last year, had faded. There was some sort of shielding around him--

Abruptly Potter and the others stood up and they left the hall hurriedly. Severus noticed that most of the teachers were gone as well, and he was holding a rather cold and unappetizing piece of toast. With a snarl he dropped it onto the plate and took one last drink from his goblet before heading off to the dungeons. The third year Potions class was assembled already, no doubt. But he had a more pressing matter to attend to. Somehow he needed to get word to the Dark Lord what had happened without giving too much away. As always, he had to consider the implications of every action he took. Information could harm, kill, destroy his cover. He did not have much time to consult with Dumbledore--he would have to send him a message as well--

His mind racing, he took the steps into the dungeon two at a time.

***