He stood at the mullioned window, looking out at the snow covered ground. It was cold outside, but no colder than his heart. His breath fogged the wavery old panes and he traced his initials into the mist, then traced another set of initials below his. He surrounded them with a heart.
With a grimace he wiped the tracing away. He usually did not indulge in such foolishness; he generally accepted what needed to be done like a soldier accepts his orders. He might not like them, but he does them, because they’re orders.
“Second thoughts, Severus?” the portrait behind him asked. He turned to look into the bright blue eyes of the old Headmaster. He sighed. “No,” he muttered. “Not at all. I just wish…” His voice trailed off. Wishes. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
“Wish what?”
“I wish…” He ducked his head. Then his head snapped up, and he glared directly into Dumbledore’s painted eyes. “You know what I wish, you old fool. You always have.”
The portrait chuckled. “Yes, and that’s what makes you so valiant and true, Severus. When you say ‘Always’, you actually mean it.”
The new Headmaster bowed his head. His role in this entire tragedy was set the day he met the old Headmaster on that hill so many years ago, to beg for a life and commit treason against a dangerous master. And now, he had another task to complete so the battle being fought behind the scenes could succeed.
Severus Snape sighed again then straightened his shoulders and crossed to the case where the Sword of Gryffindor should have been. He opened the case and with a wave of his wand opened the wall behind it, where the Sword had been hidden long before. He reached in and removed the Sword, wrapped it in a piece of silk, put on his cloak, then left the castle.
He strode out the gate and, checking to make sure no one was around, Disapparated into the gloom of the winter day.
With a muffled bang, he Apparated into a dark forest near a pond. The pond was mostly frozen, but he could see it wasn’t very deep “ deep enough, though. He checked to make sure neither of the boys were near, then walked to the pond. He laid the Sword on the ground, removed the silk, and took out his wand. With a wave, the Sword disappeared and then reappeared under the ice, sinking into the depths of the pond.
“Well, that’s done,” he thought. “Now to get them both here, at the same time…”
Moving silently through the woods, he positioned himself so that he was roughly equidistant from both the boy sitting against the tree and the other boy, packing his rucksack to continue his search. Neither knew the other was so close.
Recalling his happiest memory, Snape lifted his wand and murmured, “Expecto Patronum.” A burst of silver blazed from the tip of the wand, then split into two bands of light. Each formed into a graceful doe, which turned their heads and looked at him expectantly. They shimmered softly in the dim afternoon light, patiently waiting for instructions.
“You know what to do,” he said quietly. “Find them both and bring them together.” The two gleaming silver creatures turned and headed off into the forest in separate directions, leaving no footprints, making no sound.
Snape tucked his wand away and headed back to the pond. He needed to stay there, to make sure nothing went too horribly awry. He knew that, when dealing with dark magic and teenagers, things could easily blow up in everyone’s faces. He was bound by honor and a promise that he would protect one of the boys from harm.
His honor was part of him, and he could no more fail in that than he could change the color of his hair; the promise was a vow he took in place of the other vows he was denied by fate, but would have much preferred… ah, how different life would be, for everyone concerned, if the other vows had occurred… the exchange of those vows… damn it, casting his Patronus always brought such thoughts to mind… it was having to call up one’s happiest memory that did it…
He shook himself mentally as he walked. He didn’t usually permit himself to wallow in sentimentality; he kept that part of himself walled up inside, frozen like the rime on the trees. He had found that allowing himself to indulge in the gentler emotions or in certain memories led to yet another round of regret, self-loathing and disgust “ he couldn’t afford the luxury except occasionally, at Spinner’s End (before his loathsome houseguest Wormtail had been pressed upon him) or in his chamber at Hogwarts, with the door firmly locked and warded and a Muffliato spell in place.
It wouldn’t do to have all and sundry overhearing the dreaded Potions Master weeping and wailing in the dark watches of the night, now would it…
Finally he returned to the pond, and stationed himself beside a large tree, which afforded a good view of the pond. He cast a Disillusionment spell on himself, and settled in to wait.
His wait wasn’t long. One doe was returning, and in her wake came the boy he was bound to protect. He readied himself, in case he was needed.
The doe walked daintily to the edge of the pond, looked back at the boy, then seemed to float over the ice to the center of the pond. She looked back at him and vanished in a flurry of silver mist.
The boy walked to the edge of the pond and moved carefully out onto the thin, crackling ice. He knelt, brushed away some snow, and saw the Sword. “Excellent, Potter,” Snape thought. “Now be a good Gryffindor, but not too thick a Gryffindor, my feet are freezing…”
He watched the boy think for a moment, then walk cautiously back to the bank and begin to strip down. Snape noticed the effect of much walking and short rations on his body, and part of him ached for the boy, thrust into hardship and danger long before he ever should have been. He thrust that feeling down, and steeled himself for what had to come next, if the boy would wield the Sword of Gryffindor. A challenge must be set, a danger must be faced and overcome, before the Sword would consent to be used, even by a Gryffindor.
The boy would have to plunge into the frozen pond and get the Sword from the depths, using no magic.
Snape watched Harry walk carefully back toward the pond. He took in several deep breaths, then plunged into the rime ice at the edge. He surfaced, gasping at the cold, fought his way through the thin ice and finally dived under. Snape waited.
And waited. And waited. In his worry, he forgot to hold the Disillusionment charm, and he started across the pond to see what the delay was. Potter should have gone under, seized the Sword, then come back up triumphant in time for the other boy to make it to the pond behind the second doe. Where was he? Damn it, Potter, if you make a cock-up of this…
Severus hurried to where there appeared to be a struggle going on under the ice. He peered down, wondering frantically what was happening, why was the boy not coming up… He gripped his wand and began to cast a spell to shatter the ice….
Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimmer of silver “ the second doe Patronus was returning at a fair clip. Quickly casting the Disillusionment spell again, he kept his place on the ice so he could see how far behind her the boy was. He let his breath out in relief, unaware he’d been holding it “ the other boy was hot on her heels, now at the edge of the pond. He cast a quick charm to make the ice snap to get the redhead’s attention, then crossed back to his tree.
He watched as the boy took in the clothes on the bank, the crackling and snapping of the ice, and made a quick connection. “Thank Merlin, Weasley, you engaged your brain for once and didn’t take forever,” Severus muttered. “Now do what you must do.” Again, a challenge was set, a danger must be faced and overcome. Both boys must be able to wield the Sword; both must be worthy of the honor.
As if he heard, Ron dove into the pond with no hesitation. A few seconds later, he surfaced with Harry clutched in his arms, and the Sword of Gryffindor clutched in Harry’s hand. Snape saw them to the bank, then turned and walked away silently.
Once he was far enough away, he Disapparated back to the gates of Hogwarts.
“So it’s done? Harry got the Sword and Ron returned?”
“Yes. I stayed and watched to be sure.” Severus turned from the portrait and went back to the mullioned window. His breath fogged the panes, and he again drew the initials and the heart.
“Severus?” said the portrait softly.
“What.” To himself he thought, can’t that old fool leave me to my thoughts for just one minute….
“You performed well. You are a lion at heart.”
A lion, he thought wryly. With winter in my heart and soul.
But he let the initials and heart remain this time.