What do you dream, smothered as you are?" The words were whispered against pale flesh, molten silver in the moonlight. The boy gasped, shuddering, arching his back, but remained silent. "What do you hope for, when you are so alone?" "Why do you remain so stubborn?" Long, pale fingers lingered for a moment. "We've won." Silence, though the boy's eyes followed him closely. Sighing. "Why are you so silent?" He sat, watching the moon, with its ghostly ring, augury for change. The sheets rustled behind him, and then the almost-silent pad of footsteps, before there was a feather-light touch to his shoulder, turning him from the window. "Come to bed, Severus." His voice was husky.