Disclaimer: FAN-FICTION

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The snow that had settled on his eyelids crackled and fluttered down onto his cheeks as he opened his eyes, awakening slowly from his pain-filled sleep. Warmth was beginning to spread making his skin tingle slightly, even if alternate shivers still coursed through him. The last rays of sunshine were glittering agaisnt the window panes of the Hospital Wing while Dumbledore snored quietly in his doze.

'Ah you're awake Professor Snape?'

Madam Pomfrey asked advancing towards them, leaving a box of potions she had been stocking on the floor. She cast a tender glance at the Headmaster before gently prodding him awake. Dumbledore woke with a start and then immediately smiled, as he always seemed to do. Straightening as he got up from the bed with a kind smile and went to stand beside the Hogwarts matron.

'How're you feeling Severus?'

The old man asked softly with eyes twinkling in concern.

'Much better.'

Snape responded truthfully, even though a shiver shook him as he spoke. Dumbledore nodded in contentment while Madam Pomfrey proceeded to check his pulse and temperature. Muttering and scowling slightly she motioned for the Headmaster to follow her to her office when she finished. The Potions Master's eyes narrowed in suspicion as they left, leaving him waiting impatiently. He knew he had fallen asleep in the morning, even as Dumbledore voiced his idea of them having some kind of conversation to keep him awake. Though that had not achieved it's desire result it seemed. He recalled faintly Mcgonagall stepping in to say something. But everything was running away like water melting from a block of ice.
There was something else that disconcerted him. It was apparant that the Headmaster had stayed with him the entire time, even falling asleep. But he could not believe anyone would waste so much time on him, that anyone would care enough as to stay with him all that time, especially someone so busy as Dumbledore. It was surely strange.

Dumbledore held the door open for Madam Pomfrey politely before following her in.

'What is it Poppy?'

He asked with a slight frown of worry.

'What is it?' the woman exclaimed in an annoyed half-strangled whisper, 'I don't know how long you expect Professor Snape to continue like this. But I can asure you he won't be lasting long.'

The old man stared at her silently. The usual warm glow of his eyes extinguishing with a gust of icy wind; the wrinkles seeming to accentuate; the weight of age growing heavier making his shoulders stoop; the sorrow in his heart so terrible it ached.

'I am sorry Albus.' the woman replied, soothed at the clear shock and grief the Headmaster was experiencing. Helping Dumbledore lower himself into a chair as his strength failed him. The old man swallowed and finally took a deep breath.

'Are you sure?'

'Completely.'

Blue eyes stared at her silently. Like the soundless tide retreating, leaving the shore riddled with skeletons of fish and algae. His voice gone as a wail of despair threatened to engulf him. He closed his eyes as he willed himself not to be let ocercome. There was still hope, always. If not for them, for the ones who would come later. And he would not let them alone in a world ruled by Voldemort without fighting.

'What can be done?'

He whispered finally.

Poppy sighed softly before speaking.

'He's very weak Dumbledore. One more deadly poison or a couple of Cruciatus and if he comes back soon enough for you to see him on his death bed it will be a miracle.' the woman stated bluntly, then continued, 'What he needs is lots of rest and sleep and feeding, ' she paused with a stern glance, 'and you know what I mean by that.'

Dumbledore nodded morosely. Sharp blades piercing through his heart; this would be inmensely difficult. How to convince a man who wished nothing but death, to fight to remain alive. When his heart's desire stood within his grasp, when by simply extending his hand he could embrace his long-wished dream. But he would not give in. Resign himself to lose him. Let Voldemort triumph as he robbed one more person of the chance for happiness. Especially Severus, who had yet to discover it.

'Yes. I will do everything possible.'

'And more.' Madam Pomfrey added significantly.

'I will go to speak with him.' Dumbledore said finally, wiping the tears that had spilt from his eyes with a sweep of his hand. Poppy watched him silently as he strided to the door and swinging it open passed through to attempt his "mission". His parting words were without hope, and yet, not of despair. In perfect match with the situation.

Albus strolled back into the room, somehow attempting to devise a conversation, arguments to prove his point. But his mind was too numb with shock of the news and inevitably distracted by the keen pain in his heart. Snape was resting against the pillows, looking even more tired and paler than usual. As he approached the young man's eyes shot open, revealing piercing black eyes with a streak of paranoia, implanted in his childhood and reinforced by his work as a spy. Dumbledore could not bring his lips to lift even slightly as a particularly painful stab shot through his heart.

'What was all the secrecy about?'

Snape asked, his voice a hint of a snarl.

'There are no secrets between us Severus. At least on my part.'

Severus lowered his eyes, his head aching as blood pounded hard through his veins.

'We were speaking about you.'

Snape raised an eyebrow, having suspected it. But deeming himself not important enough to warrant much notice.

'About what, exactly?'

Dumbledore studied him steadily over his half-moon glasses. The golden object twinkling slightly giving the impression the eyes were as bright, while in truth they were dead with anxiety, sorrow and if bright at all, only with unshed tears. He took a deep breath to regain his composure, and then began the war of wills.

War of wills...what an used up, exploited frase...-.- ;)