A/N- Rounding Second! Yes, I know the baseball analogies don't really fit, but I'm on a roll. The story should be completed tonight, if I have enough coffee and my muse doesn't decide to go watch more episodes of NCIS. Don't blink you KNOW Abby is hotness.

BTW, this chapter is a bit on the short side, the scene demanded such. The next will be longer. There are… perhaps 4 left. The story will be done tonight, hang tight, folks.

Snow

Of Gold and Steel

Chapter Thirty Five

Autumn gave way to winter and winter began to bleed into spring, the hints of warmth rising to the hills that surrounded Hogwarts, however it was not enough to break the shades of gray in which the castle seemed locked. It was a prison and he the warden, a militaristic regime and yet subtly defined by the underpinnings of hope, clung to by the inhabitants. Hope was a funny thing. In days past it was what he'd clung to, the hope of death to be as painless as it possibly could. And yet, as he stood overlooking the lake, it was all Severus Snape could do to bring himself to remain outwardly calm. Spring was bearing down on Hogwarts, and with the storms of spring came new life. Whatever hope he held was tenuous and grasped carefully and closely to what remained of his heart. It beat behind the closed door of his quarters, a rotund little girl with pale eyes and a hooked nose that mirrored his own, who had just learned to creep her way across the Persian rug that was older than he was. It beat within the confines of the woman who had taught him to love the living, rather than living for the dead.

And this night, as the words of Amycus Carrow rang in his ears, it was the last night he would live. "Potter was seen in Hogsmeade."

He lowered his eyes to the lake once more, the placid surface betraying nothing, the gray of the sky blotting out the moon, it all was as reflective a setting as any Poe story ever written. Severus stepped away from the window and turned to make his way toward the door to his quarters. His hand rested for a moment on the latch, his head bowing as he drew in a breath to steady himself. As he stepped inside, Sara hovered in the doorway, jostling a cranky Hope in her arms as she paced.

He'd never seen a more beautiful sight than he did in that moment. His mate, his Kelsalis, and the living, breathing person they'd created together. Her words were exasperated as she spoke. "She's teething and in pain, I hate when I can't fix it." He stared toward Sara, his gaze unfocused as he exhaled lightly, giving a smile. "There's some of the potion left in the cabinet by the sink. A dab of that on her gums worked quite well last night."

Her hair was bound back in a braid, her feet bare, and the muggle jeans she favored were paired with another of her frumpy sweaters. He couldn't deny that though he hated her choice in clothing most of the time, it was in that moment that he knew he'd never seen anything more breathtaking. She knew instantly as his eyes met hers. She paled as she shook her head. "No. Please no."

Severus shook his head, putting a finger to his lips as he stepped forward to lift Hope into his arms. "There's a Portkey in my desk, that will take you home, when the time comes. If … it goes badly, I want you to take Hope and go." He strode toward the kitchen, his hand straying to the sink as he uncorked the potion, brewed by his own hands after he and Sara had nearly lost their minds with their first experience in teething. He dabbed a bit onto Hope's gums, feeling the sharpness of the baby tooth just beneath the surface. Almost instantly, she hiccupped and tucked her head into the crook of his neck. His head lowered, eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of his child. It soothed more than just the baby, to have that connection for a moment. He recorked the potion and left it on the counter, turning to make his way toward Sara, who stood stockstill, her anxiety unfurling inside him in addition to his own.

He surrendered Hope to her, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He stared at his Kelsalis. This moment had been decades in coming, and he couldn't, at this moment, for the life of him think of words to comfort her that would not sound trite or meaningless. In the end, he tucked Hope back into her arms and wordlessly brushed a kiss over her lips. Love had taken him months ago, and he understood, he knew, from the pulse of his heart that echoed in the eyes of the woman before him, just what Lily had laid her life down for all those years ago. His lips parted, the words slipping from him before he could censor himself. "I have to do this. Do not do something foolish, Sara. That's a command."

And with that he was gone, for once not waiting to hear her confirmation. She would obey, she was bound to it, by his will, and by her promise. Defiance, was not in her genetic makeup, and for once in his life, he was grateful for it.

Sara waited until the door had closed behind him to bark the words softly. "Pax, get your squat little ass in here." In the next instant, there was a distinct pop and the house elf who had silently served them for months now presented himself. It stared up at her as she bounced Hope, who had instantly burst into tears at Severus's departure, on her hip.

"Mistress called for Pax?" There was a note of surprise in the elf's voice and Sara stared at him.

It took her only a few moments to draw herself up to her full height, though disturbingly the elf reached her waist, since she barely broke five feet on a good day in her bare feet. "Damn skippy I did. What's going on out there?"

The elf shrank back visibly. "The Dark Lord will come for Harry Potter, Mistress, tonight."

"And Harry Potter, where is he now?" She eyed the elf, doing her best Snape impression, and was rewarded with a hurried shake of the elf's head, and the defiance inside her mounted. She cocked her head slightly, giving a terse nod. "You can apparate out of the castle?"

"I can, Mistress, but it is much too dangerous." Pax the elf began to wring his hands in the teatowel he wore, his eerily large eyes locked onto the baby.

Sara moved toward the desk tugging it open and drawing out the sickly chipped pink teacup bearing the scratched image of a kitten. She closed her eyes for a moment and pressed her lips to Hope's forehead, murmuring nonsensical words gently, though she knew the whimpers of the teething baby were not the result of the pain of the incoming tooth, but the anxiety that radiated through the room. Sara crouched before the elf, passing Hope to him as she said the words seriously. "Take her, Pax. The Portkey will put you in my mother's kitchen. Tell her you are to watch over the baby until I come for her, or until Severus comes for her. If… neither of us comes back, tell Mrs. Potts that I've made all the arrangements."

The elf's eyes widened comically. "Mistress, the Headmaster never told Pax this plan!" He appeared torn for a moment.

Sara smirked, her words taking on a vicious edge. "Of course the Headmaster didn't tell you this plan, because it is MY plan. Now, go." She pressed the Portkey into his grasp, murmured the word gently. "Portus." And took a single step back. She watched the elf as it disappeared into nothingness, her eyes lingering for long minutes in the place where her daughter had last been.

She drew in a long breath, letting the air fill her lungs as she turned toward the bedroom to change. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged into the Great Hall, the sound of glass smashing, cheers lifting and lights blazing where only darkness had resided before. A group of children were ushered past her guided by the caretaker, a man she'd only glimpsed from a distance. In the center of the room, Harry Potter and his band of would be heros spoke to McGonagall. Sara lifted her eyes toward the far end of the room, where a hole now resided in the glass. Her heart dropped as she realized what must have happened. Silence pressed in for a moment as a hand rested on her shoulder. Sara's eyes flicked toward Molly Weasley. There was no recrimination in her eyes as she gave a nod toward the door. "They're starting preparations, but they will understand, if you don't want to fight your husband."

Sara had expected her stomach to turn in revulsion. She had expected the clench of anxiety to start up once more. Instead, in a state curiously like she'd experienced before, she shook her head, her hand lifting to pat Molly's. "I'm not fighting, Severus, Molly. None of us are fighting Severus. Now… what can I do to help?"

There was a moment's pause before she was issued instructions and she took her second, less tentative step toward defiance.