Thank you very much for your reviews! I'll do my best to thank you properly. ;) At least, I hope a new chapter will help me to convey my gratitude to you.

Note: No notes, for a change. :)

xxx

...The hearing was the first to return - someone called his name again and again, in a ridiculously anxious tone of voice. Then he felt something warm touch his cheek. A palm?.. Someone squeezed his hand so tightly it was almost painful.

"Severus?.."

He opened his eyes and studied crossroads of white strings for a long moment. A blanket cover.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster?" The words did get out. Rather weak and hoarse, but audible and distinct enough.

He lifted his head. Harry was sound asleep, his elbow under his cheek. This disheveled little monster was smiling slightly and snuffling softly. The Potions Master accurately liberated his fingers from the boy's palm and leaned on a bed-rail to rise. The next moment he was hugged inconsiderately; the embrace smelled with lemon drops, reflections of sunlight and some other cosy nonsense.

"May I assume the fairy-tale has got a happy-end?" Snape queried dryly, allowing himself for a second to go limp in this warmth, but straightening up right away.

Before answering Dumbledore peered into him inquisitively, as if making out something written in an intricate handwriting on the iris of his eye; than the Headmaster smiled, "More than that, my boy, more than that. Would you join me for an early breakfast?"

The Potions Master nodded and raised a somewhat amused eyebrow. "Yes, of course, I will tell you everything."

"You should have humoured an old man and pretended not to understand my carefully hidden reasons," the Headmaster said jokingly, but his smile was rueful.

"Next time," Snape promised as he looked at the sleeping boy briefly and turned to the door. The Headmaster joined him, and they immersed in the dusk of the school corridors.

Once in his office, Dumbledore ordered breakfast for two, which had become a certain tradition by the time, and the Potions Master muttered, "Breakfast for one and a half," by way of correction that also was traditional… As usual, the house elf just grinned happily and arranged a feast. And it was just as customary that the most of the courses remained untouched. These early breakfasts certainly deserved better than that, but… Severus sipped his tea and cut this line of thought off.

Dumbledore stirred his tea slowly and glanced at the professor expectantly. Snape put his cup down on the table and once again transformed into a storyteller. When finished, he fixed the Headmaster in a piercing stare, challenging him to comment on details. Fortunately Dumbledore seemed to know better than that, although he had a rather strange look on his face while listening.

"Do you think Voldemort has guessed Harry was not his opponent in fact?"

The Potions Master winced a little. "I am sure he hasn't recognized me, and I am almost sure he hasn't detected any interference at all because I weaved the dream on the foundation of Potter's own positive energy sources. Until the last interaction, to be precise." Snape interlaced his fingers and glanced up. "I don't like it, Albus. Not one little bit."

Dumbledore placed his cup aside.

"Anything in particular?"

"Yes. And no." The Potions Master closed his eyes for a moment, as if re-playing the whole 'fairy-tale' mentally. "At first it was quite like fencing, he attacked, I parried. It was fast. So fast actually that the dream-reality blurred a little. Then he just stepped back and let me weave almost freely - only to deliver enormously powerful, but very primitive blows from time to time. Just fear and darkness, nothing subtle. Well, he did try something more complicated, but I happened to have anchored the counterbalances early enough." He paused and considered another cup of tea, but decided against it. "Voldemort's last explosion was the worst, though absolutely devoid of any image – pure brutality to shatter that Universe. The crash of those proportions would have had… rather unpleasant consequences for the dreamer, so I simply shielded that world." His lips curled in a sardonic smile, which instantly disappeared. "And then he was gone. All I had to do was to close all the doors and to finish the episode for Potter with a spiral way to some better dream of his own." He paused again. Dumbledore waited patiently and was rewarded in a couple of minutes. "In general it was too easy," Snape said softly.

The Headmaster raised his eyebrows. "Really, Severus… Your definition of 'easy' is slightly off, isn't it?"

Snape snorted. "It wouldn't seem so, if you took into account that 'easy' doesn't really mean 'effortless'. But I wonder…" his voice trailed off.

"Voldemort definitely couldn't have foreseen the level of resistance you provided," Dumbledore mused aloud. "He had no strategy to match yours. So he relied on sheer strength. It wasn't enough. Whether he thought that Harry had managed on his own or understood someone had protected the boy, Voldemort will hardly try this very trick again."

"What about its variations?" the Potions Master asked acidly.

"I do tell you the boy should learn occlumency," Dumbledore sighed. "But you have incorporated an impressive number of defenses into Harry's mental self. He will remember that dream, won't he?"

"Yes," Severus confirmed reluctantly.

The Headmaster smiled. "I think they will prove helpful not only in his sleep."

"That boy has the most undisciplined mind I have ever worked with," Snape diagnosed.

"Now, now, Severus," the Headmaster admonished. "We shall speak about it later. By the way, I have meant to ask you for a long time already, why you never mention a Master of Dreams among your degrees? It is one of the Higher Arts – and a rare one, at that…"

Snape shrugged. "What for? It is really more like an art than a science because it is impossible to achieve repeatable and objectively provable results. Too many personal factors are involved, and too few universal methods are available. Besides," he added sarcastically, "do you really think I am jealous of Sybil's laurels? I don't think any students, save Miss Granger, perhaps, would even suspect it's not about interpretation of dreams."

Dumbledore chuckled mildly. "If you say so. And now you should rest."

"I have classes to teach," Snape objected, rising.

The Headmaster shook his head reproachfully, but didn't argue with the professor. When Snape was at the door already, Dumbledore called for him again. "Severus!"

"Yes, Albus?" he responded, pivoting on his heels.

"You have proved to be an admirable Fairy Godmother, my dear boy," Dumbledore said innocently, warm sparkles dancing slyly in his eyes.

The Potions Master presented the Headmaster with a scathing look, turned around sharply and strode out to terrify the students. A new day at Hogwarts was about to begin.