"I don't know how I got here," is what he wants to say, but Severus has a feeling that Dumbledore may just look at him quizzically and ask him if he's not quite comfortable on the floor? So he is silent, and leans his back against the armchair, and breathes in the tart-sweet smell of the sherbert lemon that lingers on Dumbledore's fingertips.
He thinks about Lily's warmth when Dumbledore sifts those fingers through his hair. For an instant he wonders if Dumbledore is also thinking of someone else, knows in the next instant that Dumbledore is, and closes his eyes--the fireplace is glaring.
"It's quite warm, isn't it?" says Dumbledore, a lightness in his voice that Severus isn't quite sure is real. He's never quite sure with Dumbledore.
"The fire's too damn bright."
A hum of agreement from Dumbledore. The hand leaving his hair is almost a relief.