The Last Sanguimagus

"Who can tell me what went wrong during the purposing stage?" asked Sarah, holding up an amulet. "Yes, Miss Chang, explain."

"The item wasn't properly prepared," said the Ravenclaw student. "It became overloaded during the purposing and the spell didn't take."

"Absolutely correct," said Sarah. "Five points to Ravenclaw." She flicked her wand, and the assignment appeared on the board. "This will be due by next Friday. And remember to write legibly," she added. The students obediently began to copy down the instructions on the board. The bell rang. "Good day," she said as they left.

She banked the fire and went into her office to rebandage her arm before lunch. The cold air was a relief after the warmth of the classroom. The book from Filius sat on her desk, left open at the last page she had read.

She felt strange. She felt a little anxious. Tonight Severus would bring his new version of the potion. She could not bring herself to hope that it would work...but still, he seemed so confident that it made her wonder.

She did not remember much of him from their school days together. She did not remember this certainty, this authority, the proud demeanour he now wore. She wondered at the change. He had seemed nasty as a student. Frightened. Petty.

She changed the bandage efficiently. She turned his character over in her mind, pulled him apart. She remembered how he had been on that horrible night. His cold voice...his hands, which did not shake as he administered the potion. He had seemed distant, remote, and had looked at her as if she was completely insignificant, and deserving of this treatment.

Now she saw little of that in him. Cold, yes; nasty, distant, but he had become human to her again at some point. She remembered her words of revenge, her anger, her pain, her vow, broken and useless now.

***

Harry raced down the corridor with Ron, determined not to be late for Potions. Their footsteps rang out on the cold stone floor. "Almost there," panted Ron.

Hermione stood up quickly. "I was beginning to wonder where you'd gotten to," she said.

"We were looking for you!" said Ron hotly. "Where'd you get to, anyway?"

"I was busy," she said vaguely.

"What are you planning?" said Harry.

"You're not still on about nicking that potion," said Ron, frightened.

"You should go in, or you'll be late," she said.

Harry grabbed Ron and pulled him into the classroom. Hermione looked down the corridor, but came in a moment or two after them. She took her seat just as the bell rang.

Snape looked completely preoccupied, and wrote quickly in a large journal. His desk held a small collection of empty vials, and he seemed to be preparing labels for them. He looked up at students and pointed his wand at the board. The directions for the day's potion appeared.

Hermione stared at the cauldron at the back of the room on Snape's worktable. Harry felt a stab of fear. What was she going to do?

***

Severus felt quite confident about the evening's potion application with Sarah. So confident, in fact, that he was pre-labelling all of the vials for the extracted potion, preparing them for study later. He was also busy scratching out a template in his journal to organise tonight's collected information.

It would be over soon. He felt a glow of pride as he contemplated the application.

There was a sudden noise from the corridor, and he frowned as he recognised the familiar laughter of Peeves. He was surprised, really. The Bloody Baron usually saw to it that the poltergeist kept out of the dungeons.

There was an even louder noise, and a shouted bit of nonsense. He froze. He almost could have sworn the awful thing had said Snivellus.

Flushed with anger, he leapt out of his seat and made for the door. Yanking it open so hard it almost came off its hinges, he lunged forward. "Peeves!" he shouted.

The floor was coated with ice, he realised belatedly. Off-balance, he tried desperately to right himself, but only succeeded in falling soundly on his side. This was not a simple ice spell, either, because he was hurtling towards the wall at an only slightly diminished speed. He collided painfully, and had to clench his teeth to avoid yelling. He was still sliding, now in the other direction, and he heard a student who sounded like Parkinson screech as she fell, too.

Peeves was positively howling with laughter, and throwing snowballs at everyone.

He grabbed his wand and quickly performed several spells in succession, but none aimed at the ice affected it in the slightest. He did manage to slow his own rate of speed down, but that did not prevent Parkinson from careening directly into him, still shrieking. He gritted his teeth. Hopefully Nott owned a pair of earmuffs.

The ice finally ended some distance down the corridor, and he came to a halt on the bare stone. He went to stand up, and his hip ached painfully, prolonging the action. A few more spells and the students--most of the class had apparently tried venturing out into the super-slick corridor--were slowed to manageable speeds, and could be guided to the edge of the ice carefully. A snowball struck him full in the shoulder, and only his quick reflexes saved him from nearly putting Patil through a wall. Draco looked furious, and launched a curse at the poltergeist, who did a backflip and stuck his tongue out at him.

He really wished that Umbridge had run the awful creature out as she had promised Filch.

The students looked miserable, and they were now on the wrong side. Some needed to see Poppy. He had to get rid of this awful sheet of ice somehow. But that would mean also disposing of the water generated by melting it. He could simply levitate each student across, but that would take considerable time and energy. Or perhaps a little Transfiguration on their boots...metal grips that could let them walk across safely...

Experimentally, he pointed to his own boot, and spikes obediently appeared from the sole. He did the same to the other. He took a step on the ice, wincing at the pain in his hip.

He stood firm. As slick as the ice had been enchanted to be, it had not been meant to deal with iron spikes.

"Malfoy," he said, pointing to his shoes. Draco quickly caught on, and in a few moments all were walking across the ice warily. Brown was being helped by Patil, as she'd sprained her wrist and was crying. He sent a group to the Infirmary after collecting their things and then he stepped back into the classroom.

Only three hadn't walked out into the corridor. Granger, Thomas, and Nott were still there, waiting expectantly.

Nott. Severus wondered what, exactly, was going on. Had this been some sort of distraction, while one of these three did something untoward? Nothing looked out of place, and his private store cupboard would have wailed had someone attempted to steal anything out of it. While he was still contemplating what could possibly have happened, the bell rang. All three looked relieved and left as quickly as possible.

He was cold, and quite wet. He snarled as he went into his private chambers and changed into dry robes, noting the dark bruises already spreading across his side. He would inform the Headmaster during lunch, and hopefully Filius could figure out an easy way to dispel the ice quickly and cleanly.

***

During lunch Sarah felt Severus's eyes upon her more than once, and her thoughts continually strayed to the evening's application. She did not bother putting porridge onto her plate and only sipped water, though she did feel hungry, thank Merlin. She simply did not want to become nauseated during the procedure.

She would not hope. She would not think of it. She could not be disappointed yet again.

***