The Last Sanguimagus

Sarah was sitting at her desk when the door suddenly opened. She looked up to see Severus walking through, an expression of annoyance on his face. It increased when he saw her. "What are you doing?" he asked irritably as he closed the door behind him.

"I was thinking," she said calmly, and she gestured to the twin nails in front of her, which sat upon the torn-open envelope they had been sent to her in.

"Thinking?" he frowned.

"Yes. I wanted to be certain about something." She brought her knife out and cut the back of her hand expertly, holding it above the envelope. He inhaled suddenly. Blood welled on the expensive parchment until the nails were completely covered.

She used her wand to abate the bleeding and then turned her attention back to the nails. Lightly touching the blood with the fingertips of her right hand, she exerted a small amount of power, and the room drained away. Her awareness suddenly was limited to the small pool of rich blood in front of her, teeming with energy. She applied her will to it and slowly and carefully manipulated the blood power. Picking up her wand, she used it to levitate the nails, examining them carefully. There was only the faintest glow about them.

Her other hand gripped the edge of the desk as she released the spell, letting the nails fall to the parchment.

Severus looked apprehensive, and a bit pale. "What are you doing?"

"Since your friend sent them to me, I have been worried that they might contain some latent hex," she said wearily.

"How do you know who sent them to you?" he asked warily.

"When I opened the envelope I thought I detected his peculiar scent," she said. "I recalled it from our prior encounter." She stared at the small but widening pool of blood. "Apparently my suspicions were for naught. They are unspelled, I believe. There is the faintest glimmer of magic, but it is probably residual, left from the original purposing."

"Ah." He seemed to think of something. "Why not use any of the hex detecting spells? Or--"

"Wands can be fooled," she said. "Blood is generally more honest." The room seemed to slowly be leaching itself of colour, and she realised that she was growing faint. She closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths.

"You should have stayed in bed," came his voice.

"It was difficult to attempt to sleep while thinking dire thoughts about a variety of Dark curses," she said quietly. The dizziness began to fade, and she reopened her eyes. He had made no move, and the thought occurred to her that he might be afraid, or at the very least reluctant to come closer, considering that there was a small amount of her own blood on the desktop. She spelled it away. Perhaps it seemed excessive to him that she had invoked such magic for a simple diagnostic spell, but he could not possibly understand how many different possibilities had gone through her mind as she lay in bed, and how simple it would have been for Lucius to achieve any or several of them. She stood up and began to make her way slowly into her private quarters, Severus like a dark shadow behind her.

She looked at the bed, noting its unkempt appearance. It had been a prison for her so many times in her life. After the initial incident she had spent the better portion of a year in a bed much like this, dosed with heavy pain potions, barely aware of her surroundings.

It will be a prison no longer. He had become the instrument of her freedom, ironic as it was. She disrobed, letting the garment slip to the floor, and carefully she arranged herself on the bed. The cool air was like a balm against the warmth that still permeated her back.

"You are nearly healed," he said, examining her closely. "I daresay that this will be the last treatment."

She rested her head on her arm. The solution he was applying hurt less than it had earlier, and she gauged the pain to be bearable without the Painstone. Eventually the burning ceased altogether, and she heard the door close as he left without a word.

***

There was a knocking at Severus's door. It was soft but insistent.

He cursed and pulled his robe on, cursing even more loudly as his bare feet touched the cold floor. He had not really been fully asleep, but he had been close enough that the intrusion was wholly unwelcome.

He crossed the room, building up annoyance with each step. It was the middle of the night, after all. If it was a student, there would be a tremendous price to pay, indeed. Unless it was Draco...or Nott...seeking guidance, coming to him with a fresh Dark Mark...

He pushed that thought out of his mind before it made him ill and pulled the door open.

"S-severus," gasped Sarah.

He looked at her, his annoyance melting into confusion. "What is the matter?"

"The remedy..."

He gestured impatiently for her to come in, and shut the door behind her. "What about the remedy?"

"I n-need more," she said.

He looked at her. She shook so badly that her teeth were chattering. But her eyes were the usual colour, with no hint of yellowing. "You used the entire vial?"

"Yes," she said weakly. "I ran out a few d-days ago. I d-don't understand. I thought the withdrawal was f-finished."

He surveyed her closely. "You're not going through withdrawal," he said, irritated. "You're cold."

She looked at him, bewildered. "What?"

"You are wearing a summer weight robe," he said slowly and forcefully. "You have never, to my knowledge, lit a fire in your personal rooms. It is October. You are living in a draughty castle. You are cold."

She looked at her shaking hands in shock. Pulling out her wand, she cast a quick Warming Charm on her robe. "I am daft," she said dazedly. "I am completely and utterly daft."

"It's entirely understandable, considering that you've carried within your body an unnatural source of heat for sixteen years and that you've only quite recently been relieved of it," he said. "I would, however, suggest that you light a fire in the immediate future..."

"Yes," she said, suddenly straightening up. "Yes, of course. I apologise for the lateness of the hour. I will not detain you further. Good night," she said as she left.

"Good night," he said quietly as he shut the door behind her. As he crawled back into bed and settled under the warm covers he realised that he was now far from sleep. His mind was whirling, thinking of Sarah. She was finally cured, he realised. The last effects of his horrible potion had been removed. He wondered if she would ever appear at his door again, and how he would feel if she did.

***