The Last Sanguimagus

"Harry, no," whispered Hermione. "You can't add the ashwinder eggs now...it'll explode!"

"Oh," he said, feeling embarrassed. He had been watching Snape so intently he'd nearly destroyed his potion. The Potions master was completely focused on a project, and had not even bothered to look in their direction for nearly the entire class. Harry had to admit that Snape was interesting to watch. He did not seem to be weighing or measuring anything. There were ingredients everywhere on his worktable, and he reached for them quickly, slicing some finely, uncorking various bottles, moving with a precision and speed that was quite astonishing. Harry dropped in the ingredient from his hand without looking.

"Hermione, what do we put in next?" asked Ron, looking bewildered.

She looked exasperated. "It's the rat liver first," she hissed. "Then the ashwinder eggs."

Suddenly there was an awful noise from Harry's cauldron, and Hermione grabbed his arm just in time as it exploded and showered bright yellow liquid on the three of them.

"Potter!" barked Snape. "What have you done?"

"Er..." His face was completely red. Hadn't Hermione just told him not to add the egg next? "Er..."

Snape's face was twisted in anger. "You have disrupted my class again, Potter," he said softly. "I will arrange a suitable detention later. For now..." He looked at the three of them, covered head to toe in the bright yellow, blobby substance. "...the infirmary."

Hermione grabbed her books, and they did likewise, rushing out of his classroom.

"Look at my robes," moaned Ron. "They're ruined!"

Hermione looked at Harry, her eyes flashing. "You put that egg in because you weren't paying attention," she said angrily. "I can't help you in class anymore."

"What are you on about?" asked Ron.

"Snape said at the beginning of term that everyone must succeed on their own merits. If he hadn't been so distracted by what he was brewing he would have noticed you asking me questions and we all would have gotten in trouble! As it is, that ruined potion is going to earn Harry a detention." She fixed Harry with a fierce glare. "If you don't pay attention in his class, you'll never become an Auror. I can help you outside of class, but not in class," she said firmly.

"Fine, then," said Ron irritably.

"What was he making?" asked Harry.

"I don't know," said Hermione. "It was really advanced, though. He was adding things I've only heard of in books...things from his private stores."

"Must be something special," said Ron. "He's never spent so much time on a brew before..."

"I wonder," said Hermione quietly. "Perhaps he's working on something for...well, you know, the Order. A counter-potion for something...like the Cruciatus Curse."

"But there's nothing that can counter the Cruciatus Curse," said Harry.

"Well, nothing now," said Hermione. "But Snape's really accomplished in the Potions world...he's mentioned in Noteworthy Alchemists for his work on the Wolfsbane Potion. If anyone could make an antidote, it would be him."

Someone else was coming down the corridor towards them, looking at their potion-coated robes curiously, and Harry changed the subject abruptly. "Quidditch practice tomorrow..."

"No doubt we'll be covering Defensive Play number 356," said Ron glumly.

Harry ignored that comment and decided to change the subject again. "I wonder when the next Hogsmeade weekend is," he said. "I want to get another package of Dreamy Toffees."

"McGonagall told me that the next visit is in two weeks," said Hermione.

"Since when is McGonagall giving you inside tips about Hogsmeade?" asked Ron.

"Since she's been giving me extra Transfiguration projects," said Hermione, turning slightly pink.

"Extra?" said Ron, his mouth dropping open. "There isn't enough schoolwork for you already?"

"If you haven't noticed, we are taking N.E.W.T.s next year," she said. "I want to be prepared. Here's the hospital wing. Let's go, I want to be rid of this goop." They entered the infirmary, where Poppy took one look at them and hid a smile behind her hand as she bustled toward them.

***

Severus knocked on her door, feeling triumphant. A week's worth of toil had brought him a potential remedy, and he imagined the grateful look on Sarah's face when she realised that he had developed a cure.

"Come in." Her voice was muffled.

The door to her office opened with a creak, and she was sitting behind her desk, scrutinising a pile of objects in front of her. He sat down on the arm of a couch that had obviously seen better days.

Sarah seemed only mildly surprised to see him. "Yes?"

"I have been doing some research," he began. "I've spent the last week working on a rather interesting potion."

She looked at him expectantly. He noticed a bottle on the corner of her desk, and she turned to see what he was looking at. For a moment she looked faintly displeased, but then she turned back to him. "You do have a point, I presume."

He looked closer at the bottle. The label was in Polish, but he knew what it was immediately. "Strengthening Solution," he said, intrigued.

"Yes," she said curtly.

"But it's quite concentrated...Re'em blood, perhaps..."

"It is an entirely legal blend. You were saying..."

Suddenly it made sense. Her restless look...the inability to eat anything except the blandest of foods at every meal...she was addicted to Strengthening Solution. His eyes met hers, and she simply looked at him, waiting. "Er...yes. I have created a potion..." She could not have been addicted long, her eyes had not changed colour yet, nor did she seem possessed by any uncontrollable trembling.

"Yes," she said. "I understand. You've made a potion. Entirely believable, actually, since your current occupation at Hogwarts is that of Potions master."

He sneered. "You may find that you have quite an interest in this particular potion, as it is directly related to your...condition."

"Really." Something flashed in her eyes, a look of curiosity.

"Yes. I have brewed a counter-potion to the Lingering Wounds Potion. It should work, theoretically, by actually binding itself to the Lingering Wounds Potion, allowing me to draw it out with a little wandwork. It is a rather difficult solution...it only holds together for an hour or two, so the moment of application is particularly important. We'll have to time it well--"

She gave him an intense look. "No."

"What?" he said, standing up in surprise.

"I said no. I have no need for experimental potions."

He was speechless for a moment. "You can't possibly be telling me that you want to live like this," he said angrily.

"But Severus, that is precisely what I am telling you," she said evenly. "Now, I have talismans to mark..."

She was dismissing him. He wanted to grab her and shake her. "The cure for your pain is within reach," he said softly. "It is currently on my worktable. It will take only a small amount of time to apply. And you are telling me no? You will not even try?"

"Bizarre though it may seem to you," she said curtly, "I have not dwelled in a hole in the ground since the incident occurred. My father..." For a moment she paused, looking upset. "My father contacted every potions maker of note in Europe. They were eager to try their antidotes on me. Some caused tremendous pain. Some caused a great deal worse than that. None worked. You will forgive me for not wanting to try again."

"This is different."

A humourless smile touched her lips. "Ah, yes. Different."

He could not believe that he was going to have to plead with her. He had imagined her being completely willing...he would cure her, and she would skip effortlessly out of Hogwarts, and he would not have to think of her or see her and feel guilt over her ever again. "This potion is different, Sarah. It is not only my own research, though I must tell you that I have researched it before, with no results of value. I was given a page..."

"A miraculous page from the notebook of some great alchemist of note," she said wryly. "Ah, let me guess...Imhotep? Flamel?"

He was taken aback. "Er...Flamel."

"I think that you have wasted enough of your precious time here," she said crisply. "Goodbye, Severus."

"Dumbledore gave it to me," he said softly. He was perversely satisfied to see a look of surprise on her face, and yet it grated on his nerves. Without Saint Dumbledore to vouchsafe him, she, like so many others, would never accept anything from him. "Yes, Dumbledore," he said, a little churlishly. "This page...this miraculous page, as you so put it...pointed me in the correct direction, and I have managed to produce a passable solution."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Flamel."

"Yes," he said. "Flamel. And myself."

"I don't know," she began, but he could see the desire on her face, subtle though it was.

"It will be ready in an hour's time," he informed her. "I will administer it and then I will record the results in my notes."

"You seem fairly certain of it."

"It's a brilliant piece of brewing."

Still she seemed unsure. "You would need to bring it here..."

"Here? No, my lab is better prepared for such experimentation--"

"No," she said firmly. "I doubt highly that I will be able to walk up the stairs to my rooms afterwards. And I have no desire to share your company for the entire weekend, pleasant though it must be. You will do it here, or it will not be done."

"But the cauldron...I would have to..." He raked a hand through his hair irritably, but remembered her pain, and the difficulty of her situation. "Very well. I will return within the hour."

"I have not yet agreed to this procedure," she reminded him.

He put his hands on her desk and leaned close to her, holding her eyes with his own, though it rankled to have to ask her in this manner. "Give me this chance."

"Very well," she sighed. "I will...prepare myself. The door is keyed to you now...it will let you in."

"I will return," he said, and headed for the door, beginning a mental list of the things he would need to bring with him on his later visit.

***