The Last Sanguimagus

Disclaimer: JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Scholastic & Bloomsbury Books all own the Harry Potterverse. I make no money from this work of fiction.

Chapter Twenty: Discussions

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Harry sighed to himself as he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast with Ron and Hermione.

"I still don't think that justifies letting those first years go," Hermione was arguing. "We are supposed to set an example, Ron."

"Look, they were just having a little fun," said Ron. "Come off it, Hermione. We did the same when we were first years."

"I hardly call nearly hexing ears off a little fun." She looked annoyed. "They're just lucky that Filch didn't catch them."

They had to walk past the Slytherins to get to the Gryffindor table, and Harry noticed Crabbe elbowing Draco, who turned to look at them and then smiled nastily. "Oh, Hermy-own-ninny," he said loudly in a much-exaggerated version of Viktor Krum's accent. "Vhy haff you not to called me?" He pantomimed despair. "Oh, my leetle Hermy-own-ninny, I haff meesed you so..." Pansy screeched with laughter. Hermione simply grimaced and kept walking.

"You leave her alone!" yelled Ron hotly. The hall suddenly became quiet.

"Let's go sit down," said Harry to Ron. "He's not worth it."

"Aw, Ron, are you going to cry? Is someone picking on your widdle girlfriend?" said Draco maliciously. "How sad. Not that she'd be your girlfriend for long, after she sees that ramshackle excuse for a house--"

Ron would have leapt over the table at him, were Harry and Neville not restraining him. "You nasty little git!" he shouted. "You shut up!"

"Ron!" said Harry. "Stop it!"

"That's enough!" said Professor McGonagall furiously. "All of you, sit down before I take points from Gryffindor!"

This seemed to bring Ron back to the present, and he stopped struggling. Turning, he stalked off towards the Gryffindor table. The Slytherins giggled. Neville shrugged, and they went and sat down as well.

"You didn't need to...do that," said Hermione awkwardly to Ron.

"Well, he didn't need to say that," fumed Ron. "Nasty little blighter, one day he'll get what he deserves, you mark my words."

"We can only hope," said Harry. Hermione smiled.

"Don't forget practice tonight," said Ginny. "We really need to work on Defensive Play Sixty-two."

"Oh, Sixty-two, right," said Ron. "As opposed to the sixty-one others that we still haven't got."

Ginny looked hurt. "Look, I'm trying, but some of these plays are easier than others, and with a new player I just have to find the right ones..."

"You might as well give up on seeing the Cup," said Ron, determinedly attacking his eggs.

Ginny was very quiet for a moment. "Don't you dare say that in front of the other team members, even if you think it's true," she said. She looked him in the eye. "When McGonagall told me I was captain, it was one of the best moments of my life. But then I thought, how could I possibly be captain, with Ron and Harry and Katie still on the team. I was a nervous wreck thinking about it. I just thought I'd give it a go, and that you'd understand--that you'd be happy that I--but you've been horrible!" Her voice was beginning to rise. "Can't you just at least pretend to be nice? I've got enough going on as it is!" She jumped up and grabbed her books, practically running out of the hall.

Ron was completely bewildered. "What's the matter with her?"

"If you haven't noticed," said Hermione slowly and carefully, "she's received two detentions already this term. She's been late to classes and forgotten to turn in assignments. She's spent so much time working out defensive theory for the team and practicing Quidditch that she's been barely keeping it together. She's up all hours of the night working out plays and new methods of training..."

"She accepted the position, she should take the responsibility," said Ron stubbornly. "If she's not happy, there are others who would gladly step up."

"Ron, she is happy," said Hermione exasperatedly. "She loves Quidditch. She is just getting tired of hearing you criticise her constantly when she's only trying to improve things."

Ron looked at his eggs as if they were suddenly incredibly fascinating.

Harry decided to change the subject before anything else happened. He took a sip of pumpkin juice and realised that it was still relatively early in the morning. "Hermione," he said in a low voice. "This is a good chance to discuss the things...we need to discuss." He gave her a meaningful look.

She seemed to think about it for a moment, and then nodded her head. "Yes. Give me a moment to finish my toast."

Neville sat down next to Harry, wiping at a jam stain on his robes with a napkin. "When's the next meeting?" he whispered. "I can't wait to start practicing the Patronus Charm again!"

"Er--we'll let you know," said Harry. "Soon, I promise." Neville nodded and then wandered back to his seat.

They finished their hasty breakfast and took off for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Some of the Slytherins were in the entrance hall. Ron sent a sullen look in Draco's direction.

"Father is to be released very soon," said Draco loudly. "The trial went very well, he proved his innocence beyond a shadow of a doubt...the court even apologised for holding him...should be home soon..."

Harry felt a slow anger welling up within him. How could they let Lucius Malfoy go? He had been the leader of the attack on the Ministry of Magic. He had hurt people. Was Sirius's death nothing? Did it mean so little to the court? He wanted to someone to suffer...someone to pay...

Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him along. "You told Ron it wasn't worth it, and you were right," she said firmly. "Don't waste any time on him." They went up the stairs, and Harry could just make out another Krum impression and the gales of laughter that followed it.

Myrtle did not seem to be around again, which was just as well. "I did some research in the library about blood magic..." began Hermione.

"But Hermione, you promised!" said Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Before I promised, silly." Harry remembered that Tanner had mentioned Hermione's research. "Tanner was right. There was almost no information at all. Just a few references here and there, as if someone had forgotten to blot them out."

"What did they say?" asked Harry.

Hermione shrugged. "Not much. Nothing at all, really, except a mention of blood used to make a potion, and to mix blood in with mortar to lay the first stone--the Keystone--of a Wizard dwelling."

"Blech," said Ron, looking squeamish.

"Bet Malfoy Manor was built with every stone like that," said Harry darkly.

"I don't know if I believe her story." Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully. "I mean, we've never heard any of this before, have we? And we would have, if it really happened that way. No one could erase that much of the past. There'd be journals, history books...stories..."

"She said they were destroyed by the victors," said Harry. "They wouldn't want anyone to continue using blood like that, I think. And after all, it was a thousand years ago. Most of that stuff wouldn't be lying around anywhere anymore."

"Look, we don't have much time," interrupted Ron. "We really need to decide when the next DA meeting is going to be."

"Hmm," said Harry. "Tonight we have Quidditch practice--"

"And we have to let everyone know where we're meeting," added Hermione. "We could meet here...we'd just have to bring some cushions and things..."

"What? Here?" said Ron, horrified. "With Myrtle?"

"We're going to meet in the Talismans classroom, with Professor Tanner," said Harry firmly. "Dumbledore told me we have to have supervision, remember?"

"We could still ask Flitwick," said Hermione stubbornly.

"I've already asked Tanner, and she said yes. How about Thursday night?"

"Fine with me," said Ron. Hermione looked like she wanted to say more, but just then Ron looked at his watch. "We've got to go!" he exclaimed. They ran out of the bathroom and barely made it to Charms before the bell rang.

---

Sarah had to admit that she was tired of porridge. She dug the spoon into the creamy white substance and almost considered giving up. She exhaled and stared at it. Silas was nattering away to Minerva about some project he had assigned his students in Wales. To her left was an empty chair where Sybill occasionally sat. She looked across the hall and was surprised to see Severus's black-robed form striding past the Slytherin table. Had she really gotten to breakfast before him? That was a first. His eyes slid towards her and held hers for an instant before he walked past Hagrid and the others at that end and took his customary seat.

Again she surveyed the quickly cooling porridge. Just a little, try a little, she said to herself, and raised the spoon to her lips. She tried to think of anything but the rising nausea. She was beginning to forget what real food tasted like. Grimacing, she forced herself to eat another bite. She realised that Silas was staring at her.

"You know, in one of my classes some years ago I gave a lesson about a vampire who only ate gruel..." He smirked.

She looked at him, and found herself wondering again if he had been the anonymous source that had tipped off the Ministry that she was a Sanguimagus. "You'll forgive me if I think the idea...less than plausible."

"It's a homily, my dear, a little parable about the stubborn beliefs that we take as fact."

"Vampires don't eat gruel." She was actively staring at him at this point. "A fact that no one would contradict, I think."

"Yes, but half-vampires--dampiels--can and do," he said smugly. "A trick question, to be certain, but sometimes I find the best way to get through to the young minds under my care is through the side door."

"Ah," she said, because she really didn't know what else to say. Was he trying to give her a lecture about how to teach? Was there a veiled threat within his words? She took another bite of her porridge, deciding that it was too early to try to puzzle it out.

Minerva sniffed. "What do you do if the side doors are nailed shut?"

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