The 25th of December

20 December

Snape sits, his back hunched against the wall.

He hasn't spoken since he vowed to keep Harry alive until the appointed time.

He doesn't move, except to give Harry water.

Harry watches him.

But Snape doesn't look up.

Harry fingers' twitch restlessly as the gray light seems to go on forever.

He doesn't know if it safe to speak yet.

Finally, dusk creeps over them once more.

The darkness which usually settles comfortably over Harry's cell, no longer soothes him. He shivers in the damp room.

He can't remember what it feels like to be warm.

His teeth are rattling loudly.

"Siccus Maximus."

Harry blinks in the shadowed dark. He can feel Snape's knees against his side now.

The adapted Drying Charm warms Harry instantly.

"Capio," Snape whispers.

The incidental warmth is captured. Harry knows it will wane eventually, but he closes his eyes now. The warmth pulses through him.

Harry knows it is as much as Snape dares do.

He feels Snape lean forward. Snape's cloak stretches across Harry's abdomen and legs. The weight of Snape's hand on Harry's chest holds the cloak in place.

"Thanks," Harry mumbles.

"Sleep," Snape commands quietly. "For a short while."

Harry barely hears the words. He is already drifting.