Word Count: 811

Ministry: L9: Space Chamber Apprentice: Space

Easter Egg: Day 8, Watercolour: Huddling For Warmth

Warm Me Up

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Harry blinked his eyes open. He'd been drifting off to sleep—finally—despite the cold of the tent, and now he was awake again. He turned over to reprimand his tent-buddy when he realised exactly what Snape seemed to be mad about. Somehow, without noticing, he'd shifted across the minimal space between them in the tent to where Snape lay.

"Uh. Sorry. I didn't realise I'd… sorry."

He shuffled his way back to the far side of the tent, and tucked his sleeping bag around him as much as he could. It was sodding freezing though, and without the slight bit of warmth he'd been seemingly leaching from Snape, he knew there was no chance he was going to be able to sleep.

This was all Dumbledore's fault.

Sending them on a stupid bloody mission that they couldn't use magic for, all because apparently, Dumbledore himself had to remain at Hogwarts for the winter holidays to oversee the re-warding of the castle.

Bloody convenient if you asked Harry.

If this had been in the brochure for being a professor, he might have thought twice about it. Shifting onto his other side, so that his back was to the tent wall, Harry burrowed his face into the sleeping bag. He could actually see his breath in the air in front of him when he breathed out. It was ridiculous.

"Oh, come here, Potter." Harry looked up to see Snape gesturing him to the middle of the tent, where he was shifting himself to. "It's a known survival skill, to huddle together to create warmth," he added, when Harry didn't move.

And really, Harry thought, very briefly about telling Snape he was fine, that he'd manage, but he didn't. Instead, he shifted across to the middle of the tent and pressed his own sleeping bag up to Snape's, as close as the two of them could get.

"I'm going to kill Dumbledore," Snape muttered.

"I'll help," Harry agreed.

…

Sharing warmth had helped,and it hadn't taken Harry long to fall asleep. The following night—the second of five, if their calculations were correct—they didn't even pretend. They even took it a step further, managing the zip the two sleeping bags together to create one large one.

It was awkward, when they slipped inside, pressed together as they were, but the warmth made it worth it.

So, so worth it.

…

Harry startled awake. He wasn't sure what had woken him, whether external or internal, but he blinked against the darkness of the tent. It took him a moment to realise why his head was moving; he'd made Snape's chest his pillow.

Wincing, he tried to shift away without waking the other man up, only to find himself trapped by a strong arm around him, holding him close.

Snape let out an unhappy noise, and Harry stopped moving, relaxing back onto his chest. It was warm, and comfortable, and hell, Harry couldn't help but remember how many of his fantasies had contained such a position with the man holding him.

Closing his eyes, Harry tried to convince himself to just go back to sleep.

Getting hard would only make this even more awkward in the morning.

…

Their last night, their last morning. Harry woke up warm and comfortable. He was facing away from Severus, but was wrapped in the man's arms, his back pressed against a solid chest, and Severus' deep, even breaths against his neck. He debated getting up, but before he could decide, Severus stirred against him.

Harry closed his eyes and focused on keeping his breathing even. He didn't want Severus to know he'd been awake and just not moved.

Except… Severus didn't seem disgusted by their position. In fact, his arms tightened around Harry for a few moments, and then, just barely, Severus pressed a kiss against the back of his neck before he moved, sliding his arm from beneath Harry in a way that wouldn't have woken him up had he still been sleeping.

Huh.

…

They were back in the castle. Harry knew he should forget their camping trip. Should forget the sleeping bags and the warmth and the comfort of strong arms holding him close the whole night.

He knew he should, and yet, it was almost eleven pm, and he was walking through the corridors to the dungeons, where Severus kept his quarters.

Harry knocked softly, in case the man was already asleep, but he wasn't surprised when only moments later, the door was opened to display Severus, still in his full robe ensemble.

"Potter? What is it?"

"I…"

There was an awkward pause.

"Potter?"

"I'm cold," Harry said softly. "I was hoping… I was hoping you would keep me warm."

Severus stared at him for a long moment, before silently, he opened the door wider in invitation.

Harry smiled.