The Last Sanguimagus

"There you are, Severus," said Pomona, hurrying to match his long strides as he walked down the corridor towards the staffroom. "I've been meaning to tell you that the Snapdragons are nearing their full potency. We'll be harvesting them next week."

He nodded. "I expect the seed pods will be undamaged this time." He opened the staffroom door, once again sending private thanks that the Headmaster had removed the ridiculous gargoyle statues that Dolores had installed during her stay.

He stopped in mid-thought and stared.

Sarah was sitting at one of the tables. With Filius.

Pomona ran into him. "The students have the proper tools this--Oof!"

Severus started moving again and sat down in his accustomed chair after pouring himself a cup of tea, careful to maintain strict control and not show any of the surprise he was feeling. Pomona sat down across from him after glancing once more in Sarah's direction. Her tea stirred itself briskly.

Minerva entered the room, with much the same reaction. She stopped for a moment to openly stare at Sarah and Filius, looking faintly irritated as she sat down next to Pomona after pouring herself a cup of tea.

"You've come back from the Ministry just in time for Sunday tea," said Pomona. "That's lovely."

"Yes," said Minerva, sipping her lemony tea carefully. "Albus is still there. He sends his regards to everyone."

Pomona nodded. "He's been spending a lot of time there this term."

"Many things are brewing," said Minerva, stealing another glance at Sarah.

Pomona unfolded her enchanted greenhouse chart and began to peruse it. Tiny symbols flittered across one of the pages, moving from one side of Greenhouse Five to the other, and she frowned. "Gnomes," she muttered under her breath crossly.

"I see that you've reserved the Quidditch field for Saturday," said Minerva to Severus.

"Yes, I have," he replied. "The team needs the entire field in order to rehearse their new manoeuvres."

"Then you won't mind if I reserve the field on the next Saturday," she said. "Owing to having new Chasers."

He took a sip of his tea. "Very well." He resisted the urge to look in Sarah's direction. He could just make out Filius's voice. They were apparently discussing Charms theory.

Minerva smiled faintly. "I needn't remind you that--"

"Ah, good day, fellow instructors," said Silas jovially as he entered the room. "Sunday tea...such a lovely idea. Keeps the staff..." He stopped and stared at Sarah.

"Yes, good day," piped up Filius. "The tea is rather excellent, and Aurora has donated a few scones, seeing as she's attending that conference in Hven."

"Ah...tea, yes," he said, still looking at Sarah.

Rolanda came in. "Scones!" she exclaimed. "So Aurora did remember to leave them."

"They're quite tasty, too," said Pomona, looking up momentarily from her greenhouse map. "I particularly like the currant." Rolanda snagged a scone and a cup of tea and sat down on the couch, crossing her feet at her ankles and munching contentedly.

"I prefer raisin scones, myself," said Silas, plucking one from the basket. He poured himself a cup of tea and took a moment to add two cubes of sugar and a dash of milk. He sat down next to Minerva. "This week should be quite the thrill for the students. I have gone to some lengths to procure a suitable room in which to practice hex avoidance. A bit of physical activity is desirable for children...they need to release some energy..." He took a sip of the tea, grimaced, and gestured for a sugar cube to fly through the air into his cup. He took another sip. "Ah, yes. We will be practicing in the Great Hall..."

"All week?" asked Pomona. "Won't that be a difficulty?"

"Well, I thought it might be a bit of a real-life study," he said. "Use what you have on hand to defend yourself...you know, enchant a few tables, Transfigure a banner into something..."

"It sounds dangerous," squeaked Filius. "Aren't you afraid that some of the students will get hurt?"

"I've supervised these practices many times," said Silas breezily. "There's never been any...permanent damage. And it teaches them an important lesson in Defence." He took another sip of tea. "I usually break them into two teams, and have them appoint a leader...then they have ten minutes to come up with a plan of attack." Severus could already hear the complaints of his Slytherins. Silas had made no secret of the fact that he preferred Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. "I'll have a Floo channel open to the Infirmary just in case." He leaned back. "Several of my students have mentioned to me years later that this lesson was their favourite, and helped them immeasurably when faced with the Dark Arts in practice."

"Thank you for the conversation," said Sarah quietly to Filius. "I feel I should retire now. Good evening."

"Good evening," said Filius cheerfully.

"Leaving already?" asked Silas. "We all have just arrived. Oh, but perhaps you didn't know about our little staff teas here on Sunday. After all, you've never attended one before."

"Thank you, but I must refuse," she murmured, standing slowly. Severus watched her, noting a definite reduction in stiffness as she left, which he would add to his notes later.

"Deucedly unfriendly, isn't she?" remarked Silas to no one in particular.

"I wouldn't term it as unfriendly," piped up Filius. "She seems reserved."

Silas raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more.

***

Severus slowed down as he approached the door to his office. Lucius stood in front of the entrance, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Lucius," said Severus, trying not to show his bewilderment.

"May I come in?" said Lucius pointedly.

"Of course." Severus murmured a few words and the door opened, admitting them both. He closed it, careful to cast a few extra wards. "Whisky?"

"Yes," said Lucius, handing him his cloak and seating himself in one of the chairs.

Severus hung the cloak on one of the hooks and poured out a measure of Ogden's Old for both of them. His mind raced. The potion sample, the potion sample...the guilty thought kept surfacing despite his attempts to maintain his control. He handed Lucius a tumbler.

Lucius gulped down the drink swiftly, and Severus nearly broke out into sweats. Something most definitely was wrong. Lucius always sipped.

"I received something today," Lucius said coldly. "Something which I am quite certain originated from Hogwarts."

His blood ran cold. Lucius had been sent the potion sample. Granger? Thomas?

Nott.

The little bastard had sent Lucius the sample. He had stolen it and sent it and now everything was lost, his cover was blown, everything he had balanced so carefully was crashing down. "Hogwarts?" he said mildly, seating himself behind his desk in an attempt to buy some time.

"Yes," said Lucius. He pulled something from a pocket of his robe and flung it on the desk in front of Severus.

Severus almost laughed in relief. It was a poppet. "What..."

"This was sent to the Manor within the past hour," seethed Lucius.

Severus looked closer. Though crudely sewn, it was obviously meant to represent Lucius. A few golden threads of yarn were adhered to its head. Most tellingly, though, it was swathed in a small piece of material meant to look like a cloak which had definitely been torn from Lucius's Death Eater cloak. There was a black button in the middle of the poppet's forehead, and another where its heart would have been.

No, not buttons. Nail heads. Merlin. He did not have to look to know where the nails had come from.

"The horrid little bitch." Lucius got up and helped himself to more firewhisky, downing another tumbler. "I hardly believed it at first."

"Have you checked it for spells?" Severus turned it over in his hands.

"Yes," said Lucius, sitting down again irritably. "Of course. Also, a house-elf held it for some time with no effect."

"The likeness is rather poor," said Severus.

Lucius suddenly paled. "You don't think...that she means to harm Draco?"

Severus froze. He would have to proceed very carefully. "I don't think she intends any harm to him," he said neutrally.

"I will have her removed," snarled Lucius. "I will have her thrown out on the street tomorrow. Crabbe and Goyle will..."

"You know as well as I that Dumbledore will never let her go willingly," snapped Severus. "If you have her sacked, she'll simply receive the Trelawney treatment and become a further recluse. She'll disappear into the castle and we'll never see her again."

Lucius frowned. "She still has the cloak...if the Aurors were to search her room..."

It chilled him to think of the power Lucius could wield. "The cloak was tailored to fit you," said Severus. "It will be quite apparent that it doesn't fit her, and that it's not her cloak."

Lucius cursed and crossed the room again, filling his glass for a third time. "If only she hadn't gotten away," he growled. He returned to his seat and took a sip, grimacing at the inferior firewhisky. "I should have taken more care."

Severus arched his eyebrows in surprise. Was Lucius actually admitting to having done something wrong? "She had a surprising weapon up her sleeve," he pointed out.

"Yes..." Lucius took another sip. "You must watch her very carefully," he said, and their eyes met. There was a vulnerability in Lucius's face that Severus had rarely seen. "If she harms Draco in any way..."

"I will watch her," answered Severus honestly.

"I will kill her myself before I will let her touch my son," said Lucius grimly, and Severus knew what it cost him to say that. In some way Sarah was a pinnacle of his "art", living proof to him of his genius for pain, and he would hate to destroy her.

"She is here as a teacher," he reminded Lucius. "She owes a great debt to Dumbledore, and she will not risk his ire for anything."

"True," said Lucius thoughtfully.

They sat in companionable silence for a few more moments, until Lucius announced that he would return to the Manor. Severus saw him to the edge of the Forest, and after Lucius Apparated, he walked back to the castle and to her rooms.

Sarah was seated on the couch, reading a book. "Severus? What brings you here?" she asked calmly.

"You know very well what brings me here," he said angrily. "The package that you sent to Lucius Malfoy."

"Ah."

He realised that he should have thought this through a bit more fully. He had just burst in and told her in no uncertain terms that Lucius treated him as a confidante. "You deliberately provoked him," said Severus, deciding to continue. "That could be...unwise."

"He sent me the nails," she said calmly. "I sent them back."

"With some additions."

"Yes." She closed her book and laid it aside.

"That was reckless," he said, sitting down in one of the chairs. "I wonder that you felt it was necessary."

She appeared to think for a moment. "Necessary, I fear, is a subjective term."

"Subjective?"

"It varies from person to person," she answered. "What is necessary to me could quite well be superfluous to another."

"I understand the nature of the word subjective," he said irritably. "What I would like to understand is why it was necessary to you to owl him the poppet."

"The poppet?" she asked. "You mean the fe--" She caught herself.

"The what?" he asked. "What is it?" She looked at him, her pale eyes uncertain, and shook her head. "You're not going to tell me?" he said softly.

"You are his friend," she said.

He hesitated for a moment. If there was something nefarious about the poppet, he wanted to know, to warn Lucius. Yet as odd as it seemed, he did not want to lose her trust, as new-formed and fragile as it was. "Will it harm him?"

She hesitated as well. "It will not...directly."

"It will indirectly harm him." He stared at her. "It's a fetch, isn't it."

"Yes."

"What is its purpose?"

"That I won't tell."

"But it will not harm Lucius, or his family, directly."

"No. Will you tell him?"

He struggled to reply. If he didn't tell Lucius, could he stand by and wait to see what would happen? "Yes," he said finally.

She gave the tiniest of nods. "As I should have expected."

"You are correct. He is my friend."

"What if I told you what it will do? Could you promise then not to tell him?"

"No."

"Then I am afraid that you are left in the unenviable position of trying to get the fetch away from him without explaining how you suddenly know its nature."

"I'll find a way." He frowned. "This is a dangerous game you are playing."

"What made you think it was a game?" she asked, completely serious. "I am not certain that you fully appreciate my position. Lucius has made it his goal to possess me. When he finally catches up to me again I will need all the advantages that I can possibly arrange."

"You can't be certain that you will meet him again," he protested weakly.

"We will meet again," she said evenly. "He will make it happen, some way or another."

"You're at Hogwarts," he argued. "The Headmaster..."

"He won't be here forever," she said grimly. "As much as I would wish him to be."

"I see." He suddenly felt weary. With each day his balancing act grew more difficult. "You don't understand the ramifications of your action. He's now convinced that you will attack Draco."

"Which would be his own strategy, were the situations reversed," she said. "He needn't lose sleep about that particular matter, though."

"You would swear to cause Draco no harm?" Perhaps he could remedy the situation somehow indirectly.

She paused, and there was an eerie look in her eyes. "I will not swear to anything," she whispered.

He was taken aback. "Surely you have given the Headmaster some oath of loyalty--"

"I have given him only my true intentions," she said. "I do not wish harm to this school or its inhabitants, unless they cause me harm. I sought protection, but he, in turn, did not require anything of me save the teaching of Talismans."

"I see." Thoughts spun in his head.

She picked up her book and it flipped open obediently to the page that she had been reading when he arrived. "Good evening, Severus."

He watched her for a moment, her face betraying no emotion save weariness. "Very well, then. Good night." He stood and smoothed his robes for a moment. "Don't think that Lucius will forget about this," he warned. "Don't underestimate him."

"I expect that he will remember," she murmured. "And I haven't."

He left, feeling no closer to any answers than he had been before his visit.