The Last Sanguimagus

"That's too much homework," grumbled Ron as they left Charms. "And we have practice all week. If I was captain, I'd give us a break once in a while."

"We need all the practice we can get," said Harry.

"Well, if she hadn't picked Dennis Creevey--"

"Dennis isn't that bad," said Harry, trying to be optimistic, even though he had seen him crash into the Quaffle posts twice in one practice already.

"He's awful! And those defence plays she's on about--they're awful too!"

"I think she's doing her best," said Harry. Ron frowned.

"We have to ask Luna about the Grey Lady," interrupted Hermione. "Today at lunch would probably be a good time." They turned into the entrance hall and hooked right towards the Talismans classroom. "Harry, did Professor Tanner ever contact you about chaperoning the DA?"

"Come to think of it, no," said Harry. They entered the classroom. Professor Tanner was standing at the front of the desk, scrutinising several shell pendants and a wooden chest. "Er, Professor Tanner, we were wondering about the DA...you know, the club..."

She turned and looked at him. "I sent you a school owl about it last week," she said.

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry. "Er...a school owl?"

"Yes, I received one from the Headmaster about lesson plans the next morning after you approached me, and I decided to make use of it. I attached a note and sent it to you. I assume that is still the proper protocol for owling individuals."

"Yes, but we never got it," said Ron.

"That's odd," she said. "Do you know anyone here who would have cause to divert or sabotage your personal letters?"

Harry realised that narrowing down a list of possible suspects would be difficult. "Er...I didn't expect you to send it by owl," he said lamely. Then he remembered how slowly she walked, and that he had never seen her except on the ground floor, which made a delivery in person to the Gryffindor Tower highly unlikely. "Er...it's kind of a secret club," he added hastily.

"You should have mentioned that to me in your proposal," she said calmly. "I would have found an alternate means of communication. The missive will not mean much in hostile hands, however. I only wrote 'Yes'."

"Great!" enthused Ron.

"You'll need to arrange your meetings with me at least a week prior to the actual date so that I can be certain that I am free." She concentrated again on the shell pendants.

"We'll have to work around Quidditch practice," said Harry thoughtfully as they made their way to their seats. "But there'll be fewer people to meet...some of the DA have left Hogwarts, after all..."

"Shh!" said Hermione as Draco walked in flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. "Let's talk about it later." The rest of the class followed in, and the bell rang.

"Today we will be discussing the Color-Changing Amulet," said Professor Tanner. "I hope that you have all read the first chapter of the textbook." She flicked her wand and one of the shell pendants floated above the desk. "This, if you remember from last week, will be the first amulet that you create in this class. When complete, it will change colours when worn." Her pale green eyes swept the classroom. "First, however, we need to practice on something a bit less...hazardous." She pointed to her desk. "Each of you will need to come up front and take a handful of these bits of cork out of the box." She opened the wooden chest with a flick of her wand.

Hermione looked a little puzzled as she brought her handful back to her desk and began to line them up. "What do we do with these?" whispered Ron.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "There was nothing about corks in Creating and Purposing..."

"This week you will be using these cork pieces as practice. One of the very first basics of amulet creation that must be mastered is holding the recipient item still while the first spell is cast. Because it is entirely too dangerous to hold the item while you cast the charm, and because Sticking Charms will interfere with the spellwork, you must learn to cast the spell carefully, so that the item in question does not move. The incantation is Preparo res. The motion is this..." She demonstrated once, quickly, and then three more times slowly. "Now, you'll need to attempt this on one cork at a time. And don't expect success immediately...you'll be bouncing corks off each other all week. The trick is to use a very subtle movement at the end. Any exaggeration will cause a tenfold increase in acceleration of your cork." She demonstrated, letting the cork bounce harmlessly against the chalkboard. "Now let's begin."

It really was tricky. Harry tried again and again but only ended up annoying Lavender. Hermione was upset when her first attempt hit the window, but by her fourth try was quite delighted that the cork was, at the very least, staying on her desk. Professor Tanner complimented her on her wand technique. Ron was trying to aim them at Goyle, as Draco kept aiming his in their direction whenever Tanner wasn't looking.

"You're all doing fairly well for your first attempts," said Professor Tanner. "Just remember that the ending motion is crucial." She turned to the chalkboard and flicked her wand, and the assignment for next week was displayed.

Draco launched an especially quick cork at Neville, who was sitting in the front row. It caught him right on the ear as he was finishing his incantation. "Preparo res-ow!" he said loudly, and brought his wand down much too quickly.

Professor Tanner had just turned back to the class and begun to say something about the reading for next week when Neville's pile of corks exploded. Everyone put their hands up as corks went everywhere at high speed, rattling the windows and leaving red marks where they struck students. Harry was fuming. Why couldn't Draco leave anyone alone? Then he realised that everyone was staring at the front of the class. He followed their gaze

Professor Tanner was clutching her left forearm convulsively. Though her expression betrayed nothing, she was several degrees paler than she had been. "Dismissed," she said through clenched teeth. No one moved. "Now!"

Ron picked up his books, and shrugged his shoulders at Harry's look. Everyone filed out as she continued to stand there, like a statue. "Are you all right?" asked Harry timidly as he reached the door.

"Fine," she said in very controlled tones. "Go. Close the door behind you."

Hermione turned to Harry. "She must be one of them. She must be--that's where they have the Dark Mark--"

"Not so loud!" said Harry. "Malfoy's still around somewhere."

"She can't really be...one of them," said Ron, looking upset. "She just can't. Dumbledore wouldn't hire another one."

"If we could see her arm, we'd know for certain," said Hermione.

"That would be impossible," said Harry.

"Hang on," said Ron. "Maybe if we invite her to practice...or a game...and when someone scores she waves her arms and the sleeve of her robe slides back. You could sit next to her, Hermione, and watch for--"

"The sleeves of her robes are rather tight-fitting," said Hermione exasperatedly. "And she never moves her left arm. And I can't imagine her waving about anything, really."

"Maybe, if we told her we were working on a project for another class, and we needed to test a spell on someone's arm..." said Ron.

"And she would show you her right arm," said Hermione. The bell rang.

"Or maybe she just has a bruise there or something," said Harry.

"Let's just go to lunch already," said Ron. They followed him as he began walking towards the Great Hall.

***

Sarah inched her way down the stairs to the dungeon. Her left arm twinged, and she still had trouble hiding a shudder or two. If that Longbottom boy only knew how close he had come...she did not want to think of what could have happened. She forced herself to take another step. Her back was on fire. The cool air of the subterranean classrooms was welcome. Another step. Severus had not shown up for dinner, and she was certainly not going to climb the stairs to the Owlery to send him a note by apparently unreliable owl, so she was forced to go looking for him.

A few more steps, and she could begin to make her way through the corridor. A Slytherin student walked past her, giving her a curious glance. She was fortunate that Severus's rooms were so near, because she was getting very tired.

The Teacher's Map that she had been given had proven again to be a valuable aid. When she had attended Hogwarts the Potions classroom had been farther down; she would have walked right past his door. She knocked. At first there was no response. She knocked again, and she heard a man's irritated voice. The door swung open. "This had better be important," he snarled, and then looked surprised upon seeing her, though he concealed it quickly.

"Perhaps not an emergency," she said calmly, "but something I would like to discuss nonetheless."

"Come in," he said, standing to one side. He closed the door behind her. The room was warmer than she would have liked, owing to the cauldrons simmering away at the front. "What did you come here to discuss?" His black eyes were guarded.

"There is a sixth year in one of the Talismans classes," she said. "A Slytherin by the name of Draco Malfoy." He paled visibly. Ah yes, she thought, the son of your friend, the one with the predilection for pain. "He disrupted the class by deliberately aiming corks at the head of one Neville Longbottom."

"And this involves me how?" he said, raising one eyebrow.

"You are his head of House, I believe," she said. Her arm was beginning to throb. "I would like to know how to handle him in the most appropriate manner, so that I do not have to have this conversation again."

"Are you certain that he instigated this particular behaviour?"

"Quite."

"Would this be a class involving...Weasley, Granger, or Potter as well?"

"All three, actually."

"Ah. And perhaps you've noticed that they tend to...bait him."

"I don't know what game you are playing at," she said stiffly. "He nearly caused...I mean he caused a disturbance. And if you have no suggestion, then I will assign him detention with Argus, dock his House points, and stop troubling you with these matters."

"If you had it all worked out, why did you bother to make the trip down here?" he asked irritably.

"When I read the Teachers' Guidelines I distinctly remembered a passage about directing complaints about particularly harmful students to their Head of House," she said coolly.

"Harmful?" he asked, his expression one of disbelief. "Corks?"

She simply stared at him for a moment, unable to even formulate a reply. "Good evening, then." She walked out the door and made her way back to her rooms, worn out and on edge.

***