The Last Sanguimagus

Malfoy and Nott were fighting. Something had happened over the weekend, and the other three Houses were abuzz.

At breakfast the two were scowling at each other, and Pansy was firmly glued to Nott's side. Harry had watched as Malfoy stood up and threw his napkin down, marching out of the Great Hall with Crabbe and Goyle trailing after.

Ron and Harry had whispered about it during History of Magic until Hermione glared at them, but they hadn't come up with anything believable. The Slytherins usually kept a unified front behind Malfoy, and this obvious division was mystifying.

Potions class was about to begin, and the conflict had escalated to the point that Crabbe and Goyle were cracking their knuckles threateningly in Nott's direction, until Snape glided in, cold and nasty as always. Within moments he seemed to sense that there was a problem. He hissed at them to take their seats, and then turned and gestured with his wand, bringing up the directions for the day's potion on the board.

Draco bit his lip as he stared at the back of Snape's robes, and Harry thought he looked almost...worried.

"Nott looks pleased with himself," whispered Hermione.

***

The common room was warm and inviting that evening. Crookshanks purred contentedly in Hermione's lap as she read a book. Ron was slaving over a Potions essay, frowning as he splattered ink on the parchment accidentally. Harry stared at the fire, wishing that it didn't remind him of Sirius.

"Well, I'm off to bed," said Neville, yawning.

"Good night," said Hermione. She turned to look at Ginny, who was fast asleep in the middle of complicated Quidditch diagrams. "Ginny, you should go to bed," she said, shaking her gently.

"Hmm..." said Ginny. She rubbed her eyes. "Yes...I s'pose it's time..."

Neville began to help her gather her charts. "Did you ever find the trick Galleon?"

"No," she answered sleepily. "Fred and George will be cross...it was a prototype..." They walked off towards their respective dorms.

Hermione looked around, and then cast an Anti-Eavesdropping Spell. "What do you think Malfoy and Nott are fighting about?"

"Who cares?" said Ron, yawning. "If we're lucky, they'll turn each other into slugs."

"Nott's been to the Owlery," said Harry. "Seamus mentioned today that he saw him sending out a package last week."

"I wonder..." Hermione paused for a moment, thinking. "I'm certain he stole the vial of potion after he heard us talking in the secret passageway. He might have owled it to someone."

Harry began to list names in his head, while thinking that luck had certainly been on Hermione's side earlier. Just moments before she was called into Snape's office, she had gone to the mirror passageway only to find that the potion sample had been stolen, and Harry had been relieved that she hadn't got into trouble for the original theft. Instead she'd been able to tell the truth, which was that she didn't have the sample. "Could he be sending it to his father? He is a Death Eater."

"It all depends on the potion itself, I suppose," said Hermione slowly. "If it was a potion brewed for Voldemort, then Nott may have been retrieving it to cover for Snape. If it was brewed for some other purpose, then Nott may have been sending it away to implicate Snape..."

"There's not much we can do about it now," said Ron philosophically.

Hermione looked frustrated. "I wish I knew what the potion was for."

***

Harry noticed Hagrid standing outside the door as they left Talismans class. "Hi, Hagrid," said Harry.

Hagrid nodded, but looked preoccupied. Hermione elbowed Harry and pointed to Hagrid's boots, which were muddy and scuffed.

"Yes?" came Professor Tanner's voice from behind them.

"Professor Flitwick asked me ter deliver these turnips," said Hagrid, looking uncomfortable. He put a lumpy sack just inside the door, having to bend down to do so. "Professor Flitwick said yeh'd know wha' they were fer."

"Yes, I do," said Tanner, looking a little surprised. "I just wasn't expecting them so soon." She gestured with her wand, and the sack levitated. "Thank you, Hagrid," she said, closing the door.

"Have you found him yet, Hagrid?" asked Hermione in a low voice.

Hagrid just shook his head as they walked off in the direction of the Great Hall for lunch.

"He must be somewhere," she said. "There's no sign of him at all?"

"Jus' a few broken trees," said Hagrid sadly.

"We could help," said Harry, feeling guilty that he hadn't done anything. Ron gave him a furious look.

"'S too dangerous. The centaurs aren' being too friendly-like, and yeh shouldn' be goin' into the Forest. Not even with me, now."

***

Severus had just managed to find a cooperating staircase when Filius stopped him. "Severus!" he said, nearly out of breath. "Could you take this to Sarah, please?"

He looked down and realised that he was being handed a turnip. A rather battered turnip, at that. He started to protest.

"I've found nearly all of them," he added, "but I must be off to catch the one in Minerva's office--it seems to be rather intent on getting into her tin of biscuits--"

Severus nodded reluctantly, and Filius dashed off in the direction of Minerva's office. Severus looked down at the turnip, and began to descend the stairs.

Severus knocked at the door to Sarah's office. He heard a muffled curse. There was a moment's pause, and then her voice called out, "Come in, but be quick about it!" He stepped into her office. "Close the door!" she said impatiently. He did so, mindful of catching his robes.

Several turnips were flying through the air at different rates of speed. One was resolutely knocking itself against a window over and over again. Others were lurking in the corners. A dozen or so were lying still on her desk, looking as though they'd been used as Bludgers.

"You've caught one?" she said, looking at the turnip in his hand.

"No, actually, Filius asked me to give this to you...what is going on?"

"He wanted to enchant turnips for the Halloween Feast," she sighed. "I said I'd help. I was setting the last of the independent floating charms, and apparently something went wrong, because when I activated them they all went mad quite rapidly."

"And you can't simply stop them with an Impediment Jinx?" he said impatiently.

"If an Impediment Jinx actually worked, they never would have left the room!" She put a hand to her forehead as if she had a headache. "I put Anti-Impediment Charms on them, because I knew that would be the first thing the students would attempt."

"Students are forbidden to perform magic in--"

"Yes, yes, of course, but they do. I did, at the very least, when I was here. I just can't understand what went wrong. I set up the charms so that you could stop them with a quick, specialised counter-spell, but it isn't working."

Severus ducked as a particularly energetic turnip came his way. "How did they get out? And how did you manage to incapacitate those?" He pointed to the defunct turnips on her desk.

"I've been attempting to cast a Terminating Charm on them, but, as you know, you have to be relatively close or have excellent aim," she said, sounding frustrated. "I've managed to strike a dozen or so of the slower ones just by luck alone. And as to their escape, well, a student opened the door at an inopportune time."

"Ah."

"Did Filius happen to say if he had found all of them?"

"He mentioned that there was one left in Minerva's office."

"Oh, dear." She rubbed her temple absently. "Of all the places..." A turnip floated by lazily. "Finite Incantatem!" she said, and the hapless vegetable fell out of the air abruptly. She levitated it onto the pile with the others.

Severus caught another that had wandered too close, but the rest hovered near the ceiling, or were travelling too quickly. Putting the turnips on the desk, he strode over to the one striking the window repeatedly, and aimed carefully. The vegetable fell to the ground, lifeless.

"You don't need to help," she insisted. "I can manage."

He merely raised an eyebrow at that as she stepped back quickly to narrowly avoid another turnip. Turning, he aimed precisely at one of the turnips lingering in the upper corner, and it fell to the floor with a wet noise. She looked surprised.

"Very impressive," she managed to say.

He sneered and began to knock out the slower turnips. She added them to the mounting pile.

"Now what?" she said, watching the remaining few zoom past.

He began to watch one of them, and noticed a recurring pattern in its flight. Taking aim, he brought it down.

"I had no idea that you were so talented," she said, looking at him with a new appreciation. "You must be a skilled duelist."

"I must point out that turnips, in general, do not hex back."

She hid a smile behind her hand. He felt an odd thrill for a moment, but damped it down, turning again to concentrate on the errant vegetables. He brought down three more, but the last one eluded him, as its pattern was completely erratic. "Stubborn fellow, isn't he," she remarked, her pale eyes tracking every movement. "I'm thinking that perhaps we need to simply catch him..."

"You could Transfigure something..."

"I think I'll get a blanket," she said, disappearing into her room, and he remembered her difficulty with Transfiguration. The turnip continued to oscillate wildly. She emerged again and used a well placed Leviosa to spread the blanket out in mid-air. "Could you take the right-hand portion, and I will take the left-hand portion...we'll bring the ends of the blanket together and then I'll twist it up, trapping the turnip."

He nodded in assent, and she sighed in relief as the recalcitrant vegetable was trapped and dispatched. She sank down on the couch, and gestured to the teapot that was sitting on her desk to pour out a cup of tea. "Would you care for some tea?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, seating himself on the couch next to her, and a second cup was conjured from the kitchens as the first cup sailed to him. He plucked it out of mid-air. She really was quite good at levitating things. "Thank you very much for your assistance. I have a feeling that I would have wasted the entire evening pursuing turnips otherwise."

He nodded again, and took another sip of his tea. She hadn't asked if he preferred any sort of additive. Either she knew he drank his tea black, or she assumed he would ask if he required anything. "You don't have any idea what caused this?"

She looked at the pile of turnips. "It could have been any number of things. There was a bit of a 'hiccup' when I was applying the charms that would give them a bit of sensory input, but I can't be certain that led to the problem."

"Sensory input?"

"I wanted them to be able to notice walls and fixtures and steer randomly away from them. I also wanted them to stay within a finite space...it would do no good to have them wandering about one of the abandoned classrooms, after all. They were meant to interact with the students."

"It sounds like a rather complicated set of spells," remarked Severus.

"The spells involved were rather simple," she said. "The difficult part was getting them all to work in concert with each other. I'll have to be more careful next time."

"You're planning on enchanting them again?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps I should linger, then," he said, "in case the vegetables get the urge to run amok once more."

"I doubt that will be necessary," she said, "but if you feel that you'd like to waste an evening standing guard over enchanted turnips, then I won't stop you."

He nearly smirked at that, and took another sip.

Her expression became thoughtful. "I never thought I'd be here again," she said, holding her teacup with both hands.

"Here at Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Yes. I had always assumed that I would work at the Ministry, or for a company that creates charmed items."

"One seldom takes the path one planned."

"Very true." She paused for a moment. "In all honesty, I would never have guessed that I would ever be teaching. It was a surprising request."

"You don't care for it, then?"

"I don't know," she said, her eyes becoming unfocused. "In the beginning, it was simply a way to repay the Headmaster. Now that things have become easier, I find myself paying more attention to the role. The hardest part is knowing what--and who--is out there, and then seeing the students turn in substandard talismans that I am certain they could have completed correctly. I can't help but become angry. When I think of the danger outside these walls, I can't understand why they don't take this more seriously...I forget that they are still young, and that most of them have no idea that there is so much to protect against." She became quiet again.

"Do you think you'll stay here, after..." He felt a strange brush of awkwardness in asking her about her future plans.

"I hadn't thought of staying on here," she said, turning to look at him. "I haven't much of a chance, honestly, unless the Dark Lord is defeated utterly. Even if he is, there will always be those who seek Dark Magic and power. I will always be in danger, as long as the Painstone exists."

He had not thought of that, but it made sense, sadly. "There is no method of destroying it?"

"None that I know of," she said uncertainly. "It holds all of the pain that I've ever siphoned into it, and it cannot be released except by my own hand. It would become useless if I were to die, and that may be the only way that it can be kept out of danger."

"You would die to stop the use of the Painstone?" He concentrated on keeping his teacup still, but there was a sick feeling in his stomach.

"The Painstone can do more than cause pain," she said, looking at him steadily. "It can kill as well."

"I am aware of that," he said.

"There is enough stored in it to take several lives," she said. "I do not want to have to make that choice, but if I must, I must. You have your own choices, as well, do you not?"

"It isn't the same," he protested weakly, though he knew that he, too, put off his own decision about staying on as a teacher past the conflict for the same reason.

"You are spying on the Dark Lord. This, too, is a finite set of circumstances. At some point you will either be caught, or he will be destroyed."

"A somewhat simplistic view." Despite the tea he suddenly felt cold.

"Perhaps. But I view my own situation in the same manner. Eventually I will be captured and the Painstone used, however unwillingly, or I will die, and it will be locked forever, useless."

She was entirely convinced of this. He could sense her resignation. "There are always exceptions," he said quietly. "There are things, sometimes seen, sometimes unforeseen, that bring change."

"True," she said, but she did not seem convinced.

"Many years ago I witnessed a child, otherwise unremarkable, who managed to knock a full-grown adult onto his backside. She couldn't have been more than three, yet she struck at him, wandless, and thwarted his hex as well. Before that moment I would never have believed that a child of that age could do such a thing."

"It is in the nature of magic to attempt to protect the vessel it resides in."

"To a point, yes," he said. "But the results are usually rather simplistic reactions to the danger at hand. This was almost calculated. A Shielding Charm and an offensive hex, cast near-expertly, without a wand, by a child. There is always the element of chance."

"And the child?" She said it neutrally, but her eyes betrayed that she already knew the truth.

"Gone," he said. The weight of that single word settled between them, nearly tangible.

"Ah," she said quietly. A moment of silence passed. "When the time comes I, too, will strike out as I can."

His mouth was dry, and he took another sip of tea. He knew that she was referring to Lucius, and he swallowed painfully. "There might be other paths besides death and...capture."

"In the end it can only be those two," she said carefully. "I do not wish to soften my thoughts, or dress my choice in fairer words. I mean to live, if I can..." Her eyes betrayed some inner pain.

"There is no better refuge than Hogwarts."

She looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Yes."

"Is there somewhere else you would rather be?" he said, with more bite than he had intended.

She hesitated for a moment before answering. "No, I suppose not." She drank the last of her tea. "It's the best trap anyone could hope for."

"Trap?" he said with some small measure of indignation.

"Well, perhaps not a trap..." She sent the cup flying through the air, and it landed neatly next to the teapot. "But you understand...I cannot leave."

"Better alive, here, than the alternative."

"I am aware of that."

"You don't think that the situation is temporary?"

"It is how I must live until he is truly destroyed. If he is ever destroyed."

"He was killed once. He could be killed again."

"Yes, but he has the powers of possession. And he is versed in a very obscure portion of blood magic, which is how he brought forth a new body. I am not certain that anyone can destroy him, because there is no one living now who understands, truly, what he's done, besides himself."

"There are things you don't know," he said.

"Of course," she said wearily. "I am not an expert on this Dark Lord. I am simply--"

"This Dark Lord?" he asked, with a bitter smile. "Are there others I'm not aware of?"

Her mouth hung open for a moment, and he caught a frightened look before she covered it well. "There is only one Dark Lord, of course, and I know almost nothing of him, except what I witnessed a fortnight ago."

She was not lying, he knew, but he still wondered what her odd reaction had been about. "The Headmaster is tremendously gifted," he said, but as he said them he realised that those words no longer filled him with hope as they had in the past. The Dark Lord grew ever stronger, and it would only be a matter of time before they would be plunged into a terrible conflict, and he wasn't certain if any of them would survive, especially if Potter was really meant to be their saviour.

"You aren't certain that the Headmaster will be able to stop him," she said shrewdly.

"I'm certain of nothing any longer," he answered truthfully.

She nodded. "Despite what Sybill would lead us to believe, the future is unknowable. So many paths, so many crossroads..." She hesitated for a moment. "I would hope that both of us would see the other side undamaged, but I know that is thinking wishfully."

He stared at her. Had she just expressed the hope that he would live? There was a look in her eyes that he had not seen before, a brief glance of emotion that he couldn't quite identify. Warmth suffused his face. "I would hope for that as well," he said quietly. He had no wish for either of them to come to harm, after all, though he hardly thought it possible that they both would escape unscathed. Of the two, her odds were better, simply because she wasn't standing next to the Dark Lord himself on a weekly basis. He took another sip of tea, trying to cover his sudden discomfort.

"Thank you for all of your help," she said.

He nodded in reply, and drank the rest of his tea in one gulp. He stood up and placed his cup next to hers on the tray. "Good evening, Sarah."

"Yes, good evening, Severus," she said.

He returned to the dungeons and attempted to mark essays, but he could not shake dire thoughts about the coming conflict from his mind. His hand remained poised over a parchment with red ink dripping from his quill as he wondered anew if he'd live to see the destruction of the Dark Lord.