The Last Sanguimagus

Harry took another bite of the pastry. As usual, lunch at Hogwarts was a huge mix of delicious food, and he once again felt tremendously happy about being home.

History of Magic had been boring, as always, and he almost wished that he hadn't bothered re-taking the exam in order to be placed back into the snooze-inducing class. It seemed so strange, as well, to go straight from yawning to stressing under Snape's nose in his most dreaded class. Mondays. He took one last bite of the pastry and licked his fingers. The only good thing about them was that neither he nor Hermione and Ron had an afternoon class.

"I've alerted the others to the meeting for tomorrow," said Hermione quietly.

Ginny was frantically scrawling a Potions essay for Snape, and it was obviously a losing battle. She was shoving food in her mouth as she scribbled away, oblivious to everyone else.

"I wonder where McGonagall and Dumbledore have gotten to," said Ron, looking at the head table.

"Some meeting at the Ministry of Magic?" wondered Harry.

Hermione turned to look. "Odd, isn't it..."

"Ginny," said Neville quietly, "you put essence of Hellebore in the Draught of Peace, not essence of Hellhound." They all turned to stare at him and he flushed. "Well, I should know, I did it by accident," he said defensively.

"You're just lucky that you're not taking Potions this term," said Ron unhappily. Neville frowned, and Harry realised that Neville had no chance of following in his parents' footsteps now because of his failure in Potions. He suddenly felt very sorry for Neville. He squirmed a little inside when he realised how lucky he'd been that McGonagall had bullied Snape into letting him take Snape's class. Neville had no such luck.

"Ginny, the bell's about to ring," said Hermione nervously. "And you're nowhere near complete." Sure enough, the bell sounded only moments later, and Ginny got up, continuing to write distractedly as she walked off towards the dungeons.

"What now?" said Ron as the rest of the students filed off to their classes.

"Is Hagrid teaching? We could visit him," said Harry thoughtfully. He watched as the few remaining teachers left the hall.

"You both should be studying Potions," said Hermione disapprovingly.

***

At lunch Severus noticed that Sarah simply stared at the porridge in her bowl, not even attempting to stir it.

The Headmaster and Minerva were gone, though he had no idea where. Sybill, of course, had not shown up. Which left Sarah nearly alone, except for Silas, who was trying to involve her in a conversation. The man had probably never spent a quiet moment in his entire life.

"...ah, if you saw the Gytrash in its natural environment...an astonishing beast. It is quite a feat to capture one, but my students at the time were brave and we managed."

She said nothing in response.

"I find that the old adage is quite true," he continued. "Travel broadens the mind. Once we are introduced to something new, it becomes a part of us and influences us in ways that we don't even fully recognise ourselves." Silas took a swig of his pumpkin juice. "It is so important to experience new things...to stride off into the wilderness, and come to terms with Nature..." The eavesdropping spell was working flawlessly, of course, and Severus nearly snorted at the idea of the fastidious professor roughing it in the wild. He glanced briefly at Aurora, but she was involved in a lengthy discussion with Pomona of herbs named after constellations and their possible connections.

"Have you travelled anywhere of note yourself?" Silas asked Sarah genially. She did not answer at first, but then seemed to realise that he was asking her a direct question. "I have always thought that wizards are tremendously lucky. After all, to be able to Apparate...it certainly is the most useful tool for the perennial traveller. Where do you go on holiday, Sarah?"

She had an odd look on her face. "Holiday?" she asked flatly.

"Oh, come now, you can't tell me that you've spent your entire life in England," he said jovially, as if it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "You have to have visited some country of note. Why, I quite prefer Morocco in the spring..." Severus nearly choked on his wine as he pictured the ginger-haired man on a camel. "Is there no other country that you've seen?"

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes glancing for a single moment to Severus and then back to Silas. "Germany," she said finally.

"Really?" he said enthusiastically. "Ah, yes, I was there...during the War, actually. I must say, their beer is outstanding." She was perfectly still. "Yes, the defeat of Grindelwald...must say, it was quite the experience for me, young lad that I was at the time." He paused dramatically. "What sights were you there for, might I ask? I can well imagine that you toured the actual site of the Final Confrontation...a popular place. I didn't get to see the end of Grindelwald, unfortunately; I was laid up with a particularly troublesome hex. Did you take the Wattleby Tour of the famous battle scenes?"

"No," she replied.

Unfazed, he continued. "Or perhaps you were there for one of Jurgen Kuefer's seminars. He really is quite talented in his area of expertise. Then there are the enchantingly lovely Magische Gärten near Straubing. Beautiful and haunting..." Still she did not answer. "Was your trip guided?"

"I lived there," she said very softly.

His eyebrows raised. "Really? How interesting." Severus could tell that it was far more than interesting to Silas. He was getting her to admit to something. What could possibly be untoward about Sarah living in Germany? "Perhaps you stayed with some relation..."

"No." Her face was completely expressionless.

"Perhaps you eloped there."

"No."

"I daresay that you want instruction in the art of conversation," he said waspishly.

"Good day, Silas," she said in the same flat tone, and stood up slowly. She walked away stiffly. Severus expected some sort of exasperated remark from Silas, but instead Silas only stared after her with a calculated expression on his face. Severus carefully continued to sip the last of his wine and tried to appear as if he hadn't noticed a thing. He realised suddenly that Aurora was looking at him expectantly.

"What?" he said.

She looked at him knowingly. "Was your eavesdropping spell pointed the wrong way? Poor Severus. I said, 'Do you know where the Headmaster and Minerva have gone.'"

She had caught him in the act, but knowing Aurora, she would not mention it to Silas. She enjoyed her own little games. "I haven't the faintest idea," he said curtly.

She smirked, and sipped her own wine while studying him. "You are interested in her," she said lightly.

He turned towards her suddenly. "Don't be daft," he spat. The very idea made his stomach turn.

She chuckled softly. "You can't stop watching her...you sneak to her room on Saturday...you barely leave your own rooms...you miss meals...you listen in on her conversations..."

Curse her for paying attention. She was a Slytherin to her very core, and observation was the key to intelligence, as he well knew himself. What to say now...his mind raced. He did not want to reveal too much. "I am researching," he said simply.

"Is that what you call it?" She put her hand in front of her mouth to hide her laughter. Her cheeks were pink with restrained mirth. He scowled and stalked off to his dungeons, where his fifth years had gathered for class.

***