Work Text:
Harry's hands gripped the black cloak greedily, as if a clutch just a smidge softer would lose the contact forever. Severus pulled the young boy closer to him, holding him flush against his chest, and brought his head down to the messy, black locks of Harry's, leaving a feather-like kiss right on the crown of his forehead.
The older man let out a soft breath when he felt the child smile into the fabric, noticing that his sobs had quelled into soft hiccups, but his grip still remained on his cloak like steel clamps; but, that was fine with him, he had decided.
Thin- but nimble- hands hooked under Harry's underarms, lifting him upwards while the boys arms circled around Severus' and knobbly knees wrapped around the hips of the professor, the vice grip remaining but a vulnerably crept its way into the action.
At this moment, soft breaths were all that remained of the boys once frequent sobs and hiccups, settling his body down and replacing anxiety and sadness with a tired look.
Soon they both found themselves tucked into the plush corner of Severus' sofa, an afghan settling on top of the two figures ensuring their warmth for the evening. The professor wrapped his arms around the boy who was draped over him, tucking the afghan around Harry's shoulders and listened to his evening breaths, soon following the boy into the warm comfort of sleep.