Dumbledore's mouth opened to say something but he was interrupted by the sound of the door flinging open and then slamming shut. Before Florence could turn around the visitor had regained his composure and started to walk, his black robes billowing...
Gabe had been more "lively" than normal. The mother didn't understand but that didn't matter. She was going to enjoy every second with her beautiful baby boy! In the afternoon, after feeding Gabriel, Florence was allowed to hold him. She was surprised because she thought the preemie needed to be incubated after breastfeeding. The Hogwarts Hospital was suspiciously quiet. The witch wondered where her 3 professors had gone. •••
"Wait, you're saying Gabriel is on his last few hours?" Minerva trembled, trying to think logically.
The 3 colleagues had stepped into Poppy's office. There, the medi-witch had begun to explain what she thought was going on. The magical nurse clarified,
"Sometimes times when people or babies are close to death, they experience a surge of energy before passing away. I believe this to be the case with Florence's Gabriel..."
Silence followed.
"I know this is hard to understand. I just wanted you to know and I'll have to let Helens know of course. Let's make the time, the two of them have left, simple and peaceful."
A tear rolled down Minerva's cheek. She grabbed Severus' hand to comfort herself. The black haired wizard stood frozen to the stone floor. His eyes fixed on the wall ahead, but his mind raced a million miles to Florence. How could the mother of a dying child even cope? ••• Florence, trembling, handed the baby to Minerva. She trusted the wise witch. When Poppy had told the young witch what may be happening, the woman couldn't collect herself enough to continue to hold her dying child. She knew she had to cool down in order to stay strong and mentally intact for her last few hours with the small baby. Minerva held eye contact with Florence the whole time, wishing there was something she could say, but she knew best— she didn't want Florence to think she was in any way minimizing the pain she must be going through. And if anyone knew of the grief involved in losing a loved one: it was Minerva. The older witch took Gabriel in her arms, gingerly, and Florence ran out of the hospital as fast as her wobbling legs could take her. Hitting a dead end decorated by clay pots with plants, the agony-filled mother, screamed. Anger laced the echoes that followed. Florence grabbed the smooth pots and hurled them into the stone walls. They clay shattered the second it collided with the wall. Crashes and shatters flooded the dead end. Screaming sobs escaped her mouth each time she let another object fly from her hand. She was exhausted. Slumped on the ground now, the heartbroken mother cried at the world. She had spent months eating healthy for this baby, attempting to protect him from ALL harm, trying to fight for her life for him to be born and this is what she got...her child was going to die. Only a few days after a brutal birth. Florence got up again, suddenly feeling another wave of anger. She grabbed for more pots grunting as she thrusted them from her body. Occasionally she would be gripping the plant containers so hard, that they would crumble under the pressure in her palms. Her drive for causing harm, was elevating. Not satisfied enough with throwing pots, the predator searched like an animal for something else. Seeing the perfect object she approached it. The woman grabbed a chair and was close to thrusting it into the hot air when strong arms pried the chair from her mean grip. It crashed to the floor. She slammed back into the dense body on purpose. Another grunt forced it's way out of her mouth. The body took her waist and faced her to see them. It was Severus. He had some nerve, she thought. Taking both of her hands, the witch moved them to his broad chest. Screaming in fury, she shoved him backward. The man, clearly expecting it, only stumbled a bit. She charged him, screaming like a child. He backed away a bit. This only made the monster angrier. She shoved him, broad hand spread on his shoulders. No clear emotion came from his features. The woman stopped feet away from him. Holding his gaze on her the whole time, he slowly advanced to her again, bravely. Florence was breathing loud and heavy. Her eyes flared with a furious look. But for some reason she couldn't bring herself to move or fight him again. He was now so close, his breath massaged her bare collar bones. She could feel his eyes burn holes through her hot face. Severus slid hands to her upper arms and squeezed a grip on her. She felt a wave of calm swoop over her protesting body. Her eyes began to release their glare and her face lost the edge. Her body untensed and suddenly she couldn't believe what had come over her. Because that instant she slipped her arms around Severus and he pulled her body flush to him. Kind heat radiated off him and Florence pressed her face against the wizard's chest. She began to whimper softly. Tears leaked onto the black cloth.
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He placed his arms around the woman.
"Gabriel's counting on his mom," the man dared to say.
"I know," she ashamedly admitted. Saliva clogged her mouth. The witch pulled away not wanting to look him in the eye. Her bare toes kissed the floor as she headed back to where her child was. Snape stood, watching her figure disappear. Florence sat in the chair unable to take her eyes off the precious baby. There was nothing she or Madam Pomfrey could do. Gabriel's mother smiled down looking lovingly into the dark gray-blue eyes. She spoke to him softly,
"Gabriel, mommy loves you little bean. Don't be afraid, oka..."
Tears choked her throat. The child's tiny fingers curled around his mom's finger. After a while Professor McGonagall walked in again. She knelt down next to the rocker. Florence couldn't be silent,
"I was um....gonna ask you to be his," a small sob cut her sentence, "g-od-dmother..."
Staying strong and trying to lift spirits the older witch replied honestly,
"I would be honored to be Gabriel Calum Helens godmother."
The most gorgeous smile painted her lips as she looked up at Florence. The young witch turned the corners of her mouth upwards, almost forgetting the situation. Then Gabriel squeezed her finger harder then ever, a big sigh came from his tiny mouth. The newborn's breathing began to shallow out more so. His tiny eyelids squeezed shut. An emotion overcame the mother-bravery, contentment, peace? Whatever it was, it didn't matter when she spoke to her child,
"It's okay, love. I've got you. Let go, Gabriel..."
The last phrase came out more as a gentle plead. A kick erupted from the baby's leg and one more heavy breath was pushed out. And then it all stopped. Gabriel lay limp in his mother's arms. The physical pain, the waiting: it was over.
