It's cold outside and Tom regrets not bringing his scarf. Luckily, Harry is willing to share.
Tom sneezed into his gloves and rubbed his nose, glaring at the white landscape around him. Beside him, he heard Harry let out a loud sigh.
"I told you to bring a scarf." Harry said with a scowl, wrapping his own around his neck for emphasis. "But no, you just don't know how to listen. 'It's not that cold, Harry. I'll be fine'. Bullshit."
Tom scowled but said nothing in return. Harry was right after all; he had said he was going to be fine when they had left the castle that morning, seeing as the skies were clear and the ground blanketed in the snow from the night before. He had foolishly assumed the weather would stay that way and he could forgo most of his winter attire, only choosing a pair of boots, gloves, and his winter robes. And now here he was, shivering in the cold and snow that fell around him. He was glad that he had chosen to spend the day with Harry and none of his friends; he would never live it down if they saw him like this.
He instead shoved his hands into his robes and hunched his shoulders, walking a bit more briskly. His own stubbornness kept him from admitting that he was a bit regretful about not bringing his scarf and confessing that fact to Harry.
He heard Harry mutter something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'stubborn git' and heard the snow crunching beneath Harry's feet as he jogged up to him. He felt Harry's hands grab his shoulder and he stopped, allowing Harry to make his way in front of him.
They both stared at each other for a moment—Harry expectantly and Tom glaring—before Harry let out a long sigh, beginning to unravel the scarf from his neck.
"Here." Harry stepped closer than, wrapping one end of the scarf around Tom's neck before doing the same to his own. It was long enough that there was a bit of give between them and Harry moved to stand beside Tom. The scarf thankfully didn't choke either of them in the process, even as Harry pulled his end a bit tighter.
"Why is your scarf so long?" Tom asked, his hand dragging the scarf a little further up his neck and discreetly inhaling. It smelled like cheap body spray and the peppermint shampoo Harry insisted on using. To be more festive, he had claimed. The two scents clashed horrible, but he found that he didn't mind; it was what Harry smelled like after all.
"Oh, shut up. It's normal length." Harry said defensively, slipping his arm around Tom's and ignoring the look Tom gave him. "It's easier if we walk like this while we're both using the scarf. It would look ridiculous otherwise. Just don't make it too weird, okay?"
"Wouldn't dream of it." Tom said, pressing a bit closer to Harry as they began their walk back to the castle.
Harry was warm against his side, his heat radiating through the think winter cloaks they wore, and Tom's cheeks were flushed with more than just cold as they walked. He dared a glance down and saw that Harry was blushing as well, his eyes planted firmly forward.
He slipped his hand a little lower, managing to grab Harry's free hand in his own and enjoying the gasp Harry let out. He was tense for a moment before he relaxed again, his head falling against Tom's shoulder. It was a bit awkward, given that Tom wasn't much taller than Harry, but they said nothing as they walked, both warm and content.