The Last Sanguimagus

"I've lost it!" said Ron, frustrated.

"What?" asked Hermione. Only a few first years were left in the common room, as nearly everyone else waited at the front doors to leave for Hogsmeade.

"My money," he moaned. "Mum gave me a few sickles and I can't find them."

"I can lend you some," said Harry. "C'mon, we're going to be late."

"I don't want your money, I want mine!" he said heatedly.

"Ron, let Harry lend you the money!" said Hermione exasperatedly. "When you find yours, you can pay him back."

Ron finally agreed--reluctantly--and they took off for the doors. Harry led the way, using a shortcut, and they were out of breath by the time they got outside. The bulk of the students were already walking towards Hogsmeade, led by the unmistakable figure of Professor Marten. McGonagall saw them and nodded, walking away quickly.

"Professor Tanner," said Ron. "You're chaperoning?"

"Yes," said Tanner, wearing her usual nondescript grey robes. She was walking faster than they had ever seen her walk, but it was slow nonetheless. She was pale.

"We'll walk with you," said Harry, feeling sorry for her. Hadn't Flitwick been meant to chaperone?

"That is unnecessary," she said.

"We don't mind," said Harry.

"Very well," she said wearily.

"I wonder if Zonko's will let me in," worried Ron.

"Why wouldn't they?" asked Harry.

"Because of Fred and George. They might think I'm a spy."

"I'd like to buy different coloured inks," said Hermione, "to help finish my new timetable." Ron rolled his eyes.

Harry was happy that the day was so beautiful. The sky was pale blue and he wondered absently what it would be like to fly through the few clouds on his broom today. Probably too cold for that, he thought sadly.

The walk to Hogsmeade was not a long one. They passed the lake, its surface calm and gleaming. The squid must be visiting the merpeople, he thought. The station was ahead of them, and Harry listened idly as Ron insisted that a class on Quidditch wouldn't be a waste of time. The other students were far, far ahead--nearly to Hogsmeade.

Harry thought he saw a sudden movement. Someone shouted "Stupefy!" and there was a brilliant burst of red light exploding around him as he fell, swallowed into darkness.

***

Harry felt the world slowly returning to him. There was a breeze...a few whispers of sound...his mouth was dry. His stomach roiled painfully.

He opened his eyes, and found blue ones returning his gaze.

"Ah, Harry," said Dumbledore warmly. "Here, drink this."

Harry drank from the proffered goblet. The liquid was cool and tasted like ginger, and he felt his stomachache lessening.

"Now, I know that you're wondering what has happened." Dumbledore placed the empty goblet on a table next to the bed.

Harry looked around, and realised that he was in the Infirmary. Ron was in the next bed, watching him with frightened eyes, and Poppy was leaning over Hermione in the next...

"Is she--" He nearly jumped out of bed.

"She will be fine, no doubt, thanks to Poppy's excellent skills." Dumbledore paused. "What is the last thing that you remember, Harry?"

"Someone cast a Stunning Spell," said Harry. "And I fell...it hurt."

"Anything else?" prompted Dumbledore. Harry shook his head, which made him feel a little dizzy. The Headmaster turned to Ron. "Then I must ask you to finish the tale."

Ron was pale. "I...don't really know," he said haltingly. "It happened fast."

"Harry was stunned, and then..."

Ron swallowed nervously. "These men came out of nowhere...they were dressed in Death Eater robes. One was laughing about the bonus of nicking Harry Potter as well as the blood witch..."

"Really?" asked Dumbledore. "What did they say next?"

"Tanner...er, Professor Tanner said something to them...I don't remember what. And then they attacked her. She used a Shielding Spell and shouted to us to take Harry and run. Hermione..." Ron stopped and took a deep breath. "One of them was casting a spell on Harry...she blocked it. He got mad and hexed her." He looked angry for a moment as well. "I knocked him off his feet with the Disarming Curse."

"What was Professor Tanner doing?" asked Dumbledore calmly.

Ron thought for a moment. "I think she was dueling with them...I heard spells...but then it got quiet. I looked up and Professor Tanner was standing very close to them. She didn't have her wand. She shouted at me to keep my wand trained on them. They were pointing their wands at her. She said, 'Now, or the deal's off.' I heard Professor McGonagall and Professor Marten shouting and I turned to look. When I looked back the Death Eaters and Professor Tanner were gone...I think they used a Portkey."

"Really," said Dumbledore. He seemed puzzled.

"They've taken Professor Tanner?" asked Harry. "Why?"

Dumbledore turned to Harry. "I am not certain," he said gravely. "I do have a few ideas, however..."

"Will she be all right?" He knew the answer already. No one could last under Voldemort's gaze for long. He remembered that high, maniacal voice saying "Kill the spare" and shivered.

"She is a clever witch," answered Dumbledore. "A true Ravenclaw. If anyone is able to get out that situation, it would be her."

"But...isn't the Order...aren't you going to help her?"

Dumbledore regarding him with his piercing blue eyes. "Much as I would like to send everyone to her aid, I cannot. There are very real limits to our resources. Voldemort is gaining in strength, and a full attack at this moment would do nothing but hurt the Order, perhaps beyond repair. Rest assured that I will do what I can, Harry." He stood up. "Thank you for your helpful recollections," he said to Ron, and then left.

"They sent the Order to save me when we were at the Ministry," said Harry. "But they won't send it after her..." But then again, I have a prophecy to fulfil...

Ron only frowned, watching as Madam Pomfrey tended to Hermione.

***

The ritual was playing out to its inevitable end, and Severus wished once more that he was back in the dungeons, in the peaceful cool of his rooms.

Flint was sobbing pathetically at the Dark Lord's feet, and he hadn't even received the Mark yet. Lucius watched, a bored expression playing across his elegant features. The tell-tale flush of inebriation showed on his pale face.

Severus watched as the Dark Lord contemptuously stared down at Flint from his throne. "What could you possibly be worth to me?" said the high, frightening voice. "You are a pathetic fool, snivelling like that...you are mocking me." Severus winced. Even now he hated the word snivel.

"No, never..." gasped the hapless novitiate.

"Do you really think that you can stand next to my Death Eaters as an equal?" spat the Dark Lord.

"I...I..."

"Crucio!" His red eyes gleamed dangerously. "You are nothing but a worm...a tiny, helpless worm...you are of no use to me." Flint writhed on the ground.

***