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Note: Thanks, once again for all the encouraging reviews. Now, this chapter required some serious thinking but here it is. Hope you enjoy it.

Dumbledore sat at the side of the bed, his robes still stained with blood and tears, his hand clasped firmly over the sleeping man's one. He was tired beyond belief, every bone in his body seeming to weigh him down. His heart a boulder unfit to lie in his chest. There were glittering paths of salty tears running down Snape's sunken cheeks even as he slept, as were sparkling crusts of dried tears in Dumbledore's own beard. The old man tugged at his beard thoughtfully, perhaps there would yet appear a ray of sunshine in the ever dark graveyard that was Severus' mind? He would be content with at least a glimmer of moonlight. Simply any light to illuminate the darkness of his thoughts, a shining beacon of hope.

'Professor Dumbledore, you should get some rest.'

Madam Pomfrey's voice rang through the room as she approached her employer, who was obviously lost in thought. She was curious about what had taken place after she left but she was certainly more concerned for the well being of the Headmaster himself who had passed the night in vigil. A soft cough to attract his attention issued from the woman's lips when he made no sign of recognition. Slowly, the twinkling blue eyes were meeting her own. But the twinkle was gone, replaced by such a profound weariness it was impossible to find anywhere but in one's soul.

'He seems to be sleeping quite peacefully. You ought to get some breakfast and some sleep at the very least.'

Dumbledore sighed and turned his eyes once more on the sleeping Potions Master. He did appear to be sleeping alright, though the clenched jaw made him suppose otherwise. Still, he was not as young as he used to be and it would not help Severus if he were to fall ill himself. Albus rose to his feet and patted the bony arm softly before heading towards the door.

'Thank you Poppy. I do believe I'll change and get something to eat. But do not hesitate to call me if there is any change.'

The healer nodded and waited till the Headmaster had passed out of sight before closing the door silently and retreating back to her quarters casting a last glance at Snape.

Dumbledore headed straight to the Great Hall after changing into clean robes. As he had been expecting, even though it was early morning, Minerva Mcgonagall already sat munching on her breakfast. He took a seat beside her and nodded politely as she greeted him. He was not sure if Severus would appreciate any visitors, but he was also sure Minerva would not forgive him if he did not tell her.

'Minerva. Severus was injured after being summoned last night.'

He stated calmly, grimacing as she dropped her spoon with a loud clatter and her eyes filled with wild shock shot up to meet his.

'What?'

She whispered finally.

'We were in my office when he was summoned. He left immediately and I followed him naturally. But he had already apparated when I reached the gates. I waited at the apparating post and after hours he showed up, gravely injured.'

Minerva sighed in frustration and stared at her plate stonily. Against all common reasoning she cared for the Slytherin head of house. Even when he had been one of her students she had always felt a strange affection for the pale, lonely boy. When he had returned to them after joining He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named she had experienced an incredible surge of pride she usually had only when concerning one of her gryffindors. And yet the man was worthy of being a Gryffindor himself; for it took great courage indeed to spy for the darkest wizard ever. Her gaze focused on Dumbledore once more.

'Is he...mortally wounded?'

Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, fearing the answer would be positive. Yet if Albus was sitting having breakfast it surely meant he was not? Certainly he would not leave the young man alone in his death bed?

'No. Fortunately, though the damage was serious, Madam Pomfrey managed to patch him up.'

Dumbledore tried to respond lightly, for he saw the fear mirrored in her eyes as she spoke. It was instantly replaced by relief and a small breath was released as the tension left.

'I wish to see him.'

'Yes, I thought so. Let us finish eating and then we'll go by. He was sleeping quite nicely when I left and we would not like to disturb him now.'

The woman nodded and turned back to her breakfast, yet her appetite was visibly diminished. She heard Dumbledore sigh and the scrape of a fork agaisnt the plate as he began eating.

'I remember the first day he began teaching. Those three rules he declared before we had even greeted him.'

Dumbledore frowned slightly. He remembered also, but it was not a happy memory. Not one to be remembered fondly. Those were the key bricks to the wall he had formed to isolate himself from his collegues. Snape had entered the room like a silent spider creeping through the darkness, startling Professor Flitwick into a loud a shriek. No opportunity to offer a word of greeting was given before he had swept across the room. And seating himself rather awkardly declared the conditions to becoming part of the staff, even as he stared into nothingness. No one was to disturb him in his private quarters; no personal enquiries about his person were to be made; and no one was to touch him. Quite sad indeed. The stunned look of all the staff as he finished and departed from the room. Even after all these years, only Minerva and himself had truly succeeded in breaking a small hole through that brick wall and sweeping the dust away.

'Yes. It's remarkable how you ignored all three.'

Minerva sniffed into her spoon as she led a small amount of porridge to her mouth.

'Most certainly. I will not stand for absurd statements like those. People like Severus have to be ignored when they petition to be left alone, for they will never tell anyone they desire their company. Even today he still acts as though I'm annoying him with my presence when he's in a particularly vindictive mood.'

Dumbledore managed a small smile. As they finished their breakfast, as though by an unspoken agreement they both got to their feet and walked silently to the Hospital Wing, each lost in their own thoughts.

As they entered the room they saw Madam Pomfrey beside the patient's bed in obvious distress, bolts of light issuing from her wand in quick succession but seemingly achieving nothing. Snape was shaking madly, his jaw clenched tightly in an attempt to keep silent. His hands were as white as the linen sheets and curled into tight fists, a trickle of blood oozing from between his bony fingers.

Dumbledore rushed foward to the side of the bed while Mcgonagall watched anxiously from the foot of the bed. Her mouth the thinnest of lines as she struggled to mantain her composure.

'What is it Poppy?'

The old man asked worriedly as he noticed how shallow Severus' breath was, an alarming sing indeed coupled with the uncontrolable trembling.

'I'm afraid to say it seems an after effect of the Cruciatus curse.'

She declared promptly, though a slight frown of confusion was already forming in the woman's forehead.

'The thing is I've only ever heard of such attacks in victims submitted to it for years. And in such magnitude there are but few cases, in which the witch or wizard had been subject to it since infancy..'

Poppy gave the Headmaster a questioning glance. Her eyes widened as Dumbledore nodded sombrerely.

'His father was a rather unbalanced man...'

Mcgonagall herself looked shocked the healer discovered as she chanced a quick peek at the woman. Minerva swayed on the spot.

'And he never told us?'

She whispered in horror, even while staring at the still shaking Snape.

'I only found out when he left school...'

The three started as a mumble escaped the man lying on the bed. His eyes were still closed but it appeared he was trying to speak. Madam Pomfrey hurried to fetch a cup of water and led it to Snape's lips, a trickle entered his mouth though most was shaken by the constant movement and she quickly retrieved the cup and set in on the bedside table.

'You see Headmaster...'

'What is it Severus?'

'We pick what we harvest...and I gather naught but thorns.'

Dumbledore frowned deeply in concern, though in his eyes there shone pity.

'But if you planted a rosebush Severus, where are the flowers?'

'They're dead and gone.'

Snape replied weakly after a shuddering gasp, his eyes were rolling madly in his head and blood was beginning to stain the sheets. While the two woman watched the exchange mutely, each wondering what was going on about. Dumbledore took Severus' hand and gently tried to pull the fingers apart, which proved to be quite difficult. As he pried them carefully away they all saw the mark where his fingernails had pierced into the skin. Before the agonising man could hurt himself further Albus slid his hands into his and clasped both firmly, even as blood soaked his own hands.

'I never saw them bloom...there were no windows in my room...'

Minerva knew the man was delirious as Poppy administered some fever reducing spell even as he kept mumbling. Yet there was probably some truth to those words, perhaps the answer to her unasked question all those years he had been her student. She had always wondered how he came back from the summer holidays looking as though he had not seen the sun during those months, an idea that his family passed vacation in some cold country with scarce sun had always been a good enough hipothesis.

A violent shivering took hold of Snape again even when he had seemed to regain his composure. A slight whimper escaped him before clamping his jaw shut and breathing heavily through his over large nose. Dumbledore leaned foward to whisper soothingly to the young man, though as the room was silent his words seemed to echo around them.Minerva noticed suddenly the thin scratches on Dumbledore's wrists as Snape scraped frantically, trying to close his twitching hands again.

'Albus. He's hurting you.'

Dumbledore gave her a penetrating glare.

'It is better if he hurts me than himself.'

He declared stoutly and once more leaned foward.

'You don't have to hold the pain Severus. You can scream or cry if you need to.'

Snape shook his head, gritting his teeth. Poppy was astounded at the resistance of the rather young Potions Master, she had heard about the Cruciatus curse and had deemed it the most painful torture created by man. Indeed, seeing how people had been tortured into insanity by it's prolonged use she was more than shocked to see how Snape endured it. His face a mask, betrayed the pain only by his twitching hands and clenched jaw.

'I will not s-scream again father. F-forgive me...'

Dumbledore watched him silently, his own face mirroring none of the scratches he was being induced at the moment; nor the guilt and pity he was feeling either. Minerva's nostrils flared white as she listened to the incoherent stuttering, while Poppy gasped.

'Calm down now, dear boy.'

The old man whispered tenderly as the effects started to diminish. The frantic clawing of his pale bony hands stopping slowly, jaw slackening until he was eased into a restless sleep.

'I'll give him some Dreamless Potion.'

Madam Pomfrey said as she went to fetch the potion. Dumbledore sat down, still clasping Snape's hands as they waited silently. After a few seconds the nurse came back and she coaxed a few mouthfuls to the dozing man.

'We'll stay to guard his sleep Poppy.'

Minerva declared shooing the shocked woman away and conjuring a chair took a seat on the bed's other side. Dumbledore sat silently, watching the sleeping man.