The Last Sanguimagus

It didn't occur to Severus until the next morning that he had agreed to attend Lucius's party on the same night that he had promised to reapply the potion for Sarah. Right in class he trailed off in the middle of a sentence, and his third years stared at him. He finished the assignment aloud and glared at them. They jumped into motion.

He sat at his desk and racked his brain for how to get out of this mess. The potion required near constant monitoring for part of its brewing sequence. He could not simply start it and leave for Malfoy Manor. Nor would he be in any shape to create it following the soiree. It was far too complicated. It would have to be administered Saturday evening. He began to relax. He would simply ask her to reschedule. After all, he doubted that she had any social activities to attend.

A loud bang startled him. He looked up just in time to see Dennis Creevey's cauldron melt spectacularly. "Five points from Gryffindor," he said irritably.

***

"Good morning, class," said Professor Marten, smiling.

"Good morning, Professor Marten," chanted the class in unison.

"D'you think he asked Professor Dumbledore about you yet?" asked Ron quietly as he opened up his textbook.

"I don't know," said Harry. The Defence teacher did look unusually cheery.

"Now, I know that we had originally slated today's lesson for studying the effects of aconite on werewolves," he began. "However, it has been brought to my attention that studying the Shield Charm is, in fact, a far better use of our time." He paused and smiled even wider, and Harry resisted the urge to slide under his desk. "A review is in order, and, as proper theory is the key to understanding and applying magic, we will be covering that today."

Ron looked at Harry with a glum expression on his face. "Great."

"Now, who can explain Ogden's Rule of Distance for Shielding Charms?"

***

The bell had just rung, and Sarah watched as the class filed out. She was still surprised that any seventh years had signed up for her course, considering that there was no N.E.W.T. exam currently offered for Talismans. She was even more surprised that they seemed motivated at all, especially with so much energy being devoted to preparations for the tests. She looked over the amulets that they had left on her desk. More than one seemed complete.

She stepped out of the classroom, closing the door. Most of the students were filing into the Great Hall. She began her slow walk across the entrance hall.

She heard the rustling of robes, and turned to see Severus walking out of the dungeons. Though he looked tightly under control as always, she could see that he was tense about something. "Sarah," he said.

"Yes." She wondered dispassionately if he understood how his voice had haunted her years ago, that at one time the mere thought of it had made her feel like she was being flayed alive.

"I regret..."

She stopped and turned fully to face him.

He looked uncomfortable. "I have a...pressing engagement Friday night. I must ask that we reschedule the...application."

"Ah." If it was done on Saturday, she might not have enough time to recover. Then again, she had no classes on Monday.

He seemed to think that she had taken some offense, because his voice became quiet and he flushed slightly. "I cannot possibly decline the invitation--"

"Nor would I ask it of you," she replied evenly. "Would you be available Saturday evening?"

He seemed to calm himself a little. "Yes, that would be acceptable."

"Very well then." She began anew her walk to lunch.

He strode off. She arrived at the Head Table somewhat later, only to discover that Sybill was attending the meal. Sarah sat down stiffly. For the last two weeks the porridge had mysteriously been showing up right next to her plate. She wondered if Dobby the house-elf had something to do with it. Spooning herself a small portion, she stared at it. Her stomach did not seem like it was going to cooperate.

"Ah, my dear," said Sybill genially. "I do not believe that we have talked at any length, but my Inner Eye showed us having a conversation, so I left my tower and decided to join you for lunch."

Sarah could hear Silas cover a chuckle with a cough. "A conversation about what, exactly?" she said.

"Oh, the burden...I cannot reveal it without influencing the outcome," she said, pouring two cups of tea. "Suffice it to say, I offered to read your tea leaves."

Just the thought of tea nearly made her ill right at the table. "Then you must also have seen me refuse your offer," Sarah said.

"Ah, yes," said Sybill tremulously. "You refused..."

Silas reached across Sarah and took one of the cups. "Ah, Sybill, dear, if you're offering readings, then I've a mind to take you up on it." He sipped his tea thoughtfully. "You know, in Germany a young Gypsy girl named Lyddi once told my fortune...delightful girl, she was...told me I had been in danger of death three times...that I would find a lovely fat wife..." Sybill looked at him curiously. "Perhaps I misheard her. I did find a lovely fat tankard at the next biergarten, however." He smirked.

"The Inner Eye is nothing to mock," said Sybill in a huffy tone.

"Ah, but was she truly blessed with the Inner Eye?" he said. "I do not think so. I am quite certain that I have been in danger of death far more than three times. Still...a pleasant way to spend an afternoon..." He took another sip of his tea.

Sarah willed herself to put a spoonful of porridge in her mouth. The addiction had progressed predictably, and she found herself more and more lacking in appetite. I must try, she reminded herself. She did not have a lot of the Strengthening Solution left, after all, and she knew what the next stage would be like if she didn't start eating now. She took another bite and a sip of water.

Silas handed his teacup across Sarah to Sybill, who perused it, beads rattling, her magnified eyes looming over the fragile porcelain. "Ahhh...yes...I see...there is a snail in your cup."

"A snail?" said Silas, wrinkling his brow.

"Yes...a warning from the Fates...clearly you are proceeding too quickly in some important matter...you need to slow down..." She peered closer. "But the snail is, indeed, a lucky fellow, and you will win out in the end." She smiled triumphantly and handed the cup back to him.

Silas looked at the soggy leaves in the bottom of the cup, fascinated. "I've always thought that Divination has been treated unfairly as a subject," he said happily. "Interesting...very interesting...winning out in the end...yes..."

If her stomach hadn't already turned enough from the porridge, this put it over the edge. "Good day," she said quietly, standing and putting her napkin down. She walked away.

"So much for your conversation," said McGonagall dryly.

"Ah, but it has accomplished what it was meant to," said Sybill dramatically.

***