The Last Sanguimagus

The door knocker was extremely irritable, and only Severus's threat of hexing it with the Reductor Curse convinced it to alert the Malfoys to his presence on their step.

Narcissa answered the door, and her expression was wary.

"I need to see Lucius," he said.

"He is...indisposed," she answered quietly.

"It is urgent."

She looked at him for a moment, her grey eyes uncertain. "He's not himself at the moment."

"I must speak to him," said Severus. "He could be in danger."

She looked at him appraisingly. "Follow me."

He entered, ignoring the angry mutterings of the door knocker. Narcissa took him through the mansion, passing countless dark rooms and empty hallways. Eventually they stood before the door of Lucius's private study.

Narcissa looked as if she wanted to say something more, but instead gestured towards the door, which opened.

He entered the cheerily lit room. When he looked back Narcissa had already disappeared, closing the door behind her.

"Severus?" slurred Lucius.

"Yes."

Lucius was sprawled gracelessly on the elegant sofa facing the fireplace. "Why are you here?"

"I came because I was concerned," said Severus. "I've researched the poppet...I think it might be a fetch."

"A what?"

"A fetch," he explained as calmly as he was able. "I can't be certain without examining it further. Do you still have it?"

"On my desk." He waved in the desk's direction. A few empty bottles of whisky lolled on the usually meticulously clean surface.

Severus picked up the poppet. The feel of the cloak on his fingers reminded him of old deeds better left unremembered, and he pocketed the doll. "I'll just be going then."

"Going? But you have only just arrived," said Lucius, watching him, his eyes glassy.

"I need to examine this poppet, Lucius," said Severus. Lucius frowned, and Severus tried to maintain calm. He needed to get the fetch away from Lucius.

"I really doubt that it contains any sort of threat."

"I am going to see if it contains any residual spells."

"There is nothing dangerous about that poppet," said Lucius, and he began to laugh.

"I think there might be...I think it is a fetch."

Lucius laughed even harder at that. When he could speak again he said, "That is no fetch. Sarah could not create something like that. Besides, I held it, and nothing has happened."

Severus chose his words carefully. "I have heard that it is possible to create a latent fetch. I think that this could be one. She is quite capable; you've seen her handiwork in action already."

"Ah, the nails," said Lucius thoughtfully. "I wasn't aware that she had made those herself. I assumed that she stole them..." He trailed off, looking sleepy.

Severus cursed himself. He had just given information away, information that could look suspicious. "You don't think she made them? Sixteen years is long enough to accumulate the time and energy required for such an ambitious project."

Lucius seemed to think for a moment. "True." He blinked a few times, and looked irritated suddenly. "Oh, take the blasted thing."

"Good evening, Lucius," murmured Severus as he left. There was no reply.

***

There was a knock at her office door, and Sarah gestured, opening it, wondering who it could be. It was fairly late, nearing curfew, and she couldn't imagine that any of the teachers would be calling on her. No doubt Severus had already stormed off to Malfoy Manor to reacquire the fetch, though it was far too late for that.

To Sarah's surprise, Hermione Granger was at her door. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

The girl closed the door behind her and sat down in one of the chairs. "Professor Tanner," she began. She appeared confident, but Sarah could see a bit of nervousness in the way the girl clutched the arms of the chair. "I have been thinking recently."

"Really," said Sarah neutrally.

The girl blushed faintly for a moment. "Yes. Ron told me what you did when we were nearly abducted by Death Eaters. And I know other things as well."

"Other things?"

"You're hiding from him," she said.

"Hiding from whom?"

"Voldemort. I think that he wants your knowledge of blood magic. He knows some blood magic himself. That's why you were so unwilling to leave Hogwarts. That's why the Death Eaters tried to take you. They even ignored Harry because you were so important to them." She took a breath and released it. "I was hoping that you would help me."

"Help you?" said Sarah slowly. "I'm not following this, I'm afraid."

"I would like you to teach me blood magic," said the girl determinedly.

Sarah stared at her. "I don't know where you developed this idea, but it is an entirely foolish one."

"I think if you examine it fully, it really isn't," she said. "Voldemort has used blood magic to protect himself, and he clearly knows the basics. Harry is going to need help if he's to defeat him."

"If Harry needs help, why isn't he here asking me to teach him, instead of you?"

"He has enough to worry about," she said quickly. "If I learn it, I can show him the spells he'll need, and cast some of the more complicated ones myself." The girl had a stubborn look to her face that Sarah did not entirely like.

"I believe that I've explained before that blood magic is a hereditary talent."

"You also said that the basic spells could be learned by anyone."

"True, but most of them will be of little use to you in your cause."

"Sometimes the least spell can have the greatest effect."

"No," said Sarah. "I will not teach you blood magic."

"This could mean the difference in Harry's life--and the defeat of Voldemort!" she burst out.

"I doubt that highly," she replied evenly. "What little advantage it would afford would not be worth the time and effort expended in learning it."

"I disagree," she said, obviously frustrated. "Any advantage would make it worthwhile. Show me how to use it, and I know I'll be able to apply it to good use!"

"No," said Sarah firmly. "There is no reason for me to teach you anything but Talismans."

"Harry's life isn't reason enough?" She was shocked. "The defeat of Voldemort isn't enough? How can you decide to do nothing when the entire Wizarding world is threatened, and know that innocent people might be hurt because you won't take the time to teach us?"

Sarah stared at her. "What gives you the right to assume such things of me, and judge me in this manner?"

"You have the power to change things," she said hotly. "By helping Harry, you will be helping to overthrow Voldemort, and we can be at peace again."

"You cannot believe that this Dark Lord is the only Dark Lord and will be the only Dark Lord ever," said Sarah slowly and forcefully. "Peace does not last forever. There will always be some Dark individual who covets power and violence." She drew a calming breath. "Helping Mr. Potter does not immediately translate to peace in the Wizarding world either, I am afraid. Mr. Potter will have to succeed or fail on his own internal merits. Blood magic will not make a difference."

Miss Granger looked pale. "I have friends in the publishing world who will be quite interested to hear that there is a Sanguimagus at Hogwarts..."

"What is this?" demanded Sarah, and she could feel the warm hand of anger gripping her heart. "Are you threatening me?"

The girl's determination was beginning to erode. "I need to help protect Harry," she said, distraught.

"Take these foolish notions out of your head," said Sarah slowly and dangerously. "Blood magic is nearly gone from this world, and that is a good thing, believe me. This Dark Lord may know a few things, but he doesn't know anything that you can't counter yourself with a wand. As for attempting to blackmail an instructor..." Sarah fixed her with the most intense gaze that she could muster. "Do not dare to even think to try that again."

Miss Granger flushed bright red. "If you would only listen--"

"Have you even fully considered what would happen to the Headmaster if his unconventional hiring came under scrutiny again?" said Sarah coldly. "And what do you think would happen if I were to be forced to leave Hogwarts? The Dark Lord would be glad to hear of it. You need to think of the full consequences of your actions. I will not be reporting this matter to the Headmaster, considering that your goal apparently was to protect the well-being of your friend. In the future I would suggest that you take more care."

She looked utterly miserable and yet completely stubborn. "Voldemort used blood magic to keep himself alive--to turn himself into a spirit--he protected himself against the Killing Curse! You're the only person in the world who would know how he did this. You're the only one who can help."

Sarah gazed at her levelly. "Do you think I am an expert in the ways of blood magic? Do you think I am a tremendously powerful Sanguimagus, with perfect knowledge of all its traditions and pitfalls? I feel that I must correct your ignorance in this matter. I have only studied the matter for a scant fifteen years. Certainly you must understand that in the lives of wizards that is a very short time. I am also not a Pureblood Sanguimagus, and therefore I will never reach the full potential of a blood witch. Yes, I have my own areas of expertise and research, but I can tell you with reasonable impunity that I will have little insight into the Dark Lord's methods. The Headmaster would be of much greater use to you." She narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps he will be equally impressed with your publishing friends."

Miss Granger opened her mouth and closed it again with a snap. "I--"

"Good evening," said Sarah, waving her wand to open the door pointedly.

Still she attempted to argue. "You can't--"

"Miss Granger," she said in a freezing tone. "Though they may sometimes appear trivial when we make them, our choices define us, for good or for ill. You have already made one poor choice in our conversation. Do not compound the issue by making another."

The girl ran out of the office. The door shut behind her, and Sarah stared at it, her mind wondering at the gall of Miss Granger. Truly the sixth year was brilliant, strong-willed, brave beyond measure, but if she didn't pay heed and take more care she would end up on the wrong side. Blackmail, she thought grimly. I wonder where she picked up that idea.

She remembered being that age, determined to make her mark on the world, flushed with the possibilities, practicing Charms with a single-minded devotion.

She thought of her own poor choices in life, and the Dark mistakes that she had made, and wished for just a moment that she could show Miss Granger even a fraction of the cruelty of Fate.

Would I have done differently had I been shown the same? she thought, and frowned.