The grey skies of late autumn grew darker and closer to the earth as one flake, and then another, and still another drifted down from the clouds. With the earthbound drift of every flake, the world quieted and stilled.
Theodore Nott felt the splinters of the fence boards beneath bare fingers tracing the knots in the wood, the flakes of snow drifting into the scabs crossing his hands. He watched the clouds of his breath, and waited, and watched and waited. The green wool of his scarf caught the moisture of his breath and the snow as the movement of a thestral crossing the pen caught his eye. He turned his head in time to catch the sight of a dirty blonde head covered in a blue knit cap emerging from the trees.
Theo's eyes traced her form, inspecting as best he could from the distance, looking for any suggestion of how recent days had gone for her, since they'd last been able to meet. She wasn't wearing a coat, he worried. Was she walking slowly out of care for the terrain or necessity? Her footfalls crunched the fallen leaves as she joined him at the fence, dropping her school bag by their feet.
His hand left the fence to trace the apple of her cheek, chilled pink in the cold air. "Where's your coat?" he asked before drawing her into the folds of his.
"Somewhere," Luna replied vaguely, cuddling into his warmth. He didn't press her for more of an answer.
She tipped back her head to study his face, reaching to grasp his fingers in hers. A small movement of her thumbs collided them into the scabs marring the backs of his hands.
"I brought dittany. I knew you would need it," she said without moving her eyes from his to inspect his wounds.
"It was a bad week," he said plainly, releasing her fingers to draw his hands under the back of her shirt, willing away the cold of her skin with the friction of his touch.
"Hmmmm," she agreed. "It's only going to get worse," she said as she rested her ear against his heart. The persistence, the solidity of the sound calmed the chaos surrounding her for the moment.
"I was worried you wouldn't be able to come today," he said into the damp wool of her hat, fingers relentlessly tracing her back to warm it. "After Longbottom pulled that stunt in class…"
"The Carrows don't come out here. They see the thestrals as an omen. For all of their teaching methods, they can't face death. Theo, you know this place is for us," and she reached up to touch his face, draw it down to hers. Their lips met softly as the snow fell around them.
The thestral pen had been where they first met years before, both curiously drawn to the winged creatures they could both see after losing their mothers as children. A tentative friendship solidified into something as real and mostly unseen as their thestrals, trapped by the building tensions of their world, roles on different sides assumed before either could agree to them.
Breaking their kiss, Theo moved his hands down to lift Luna onto the fence rail, stepping into the space between her knees as they opened for him. Her arms reached around his neck and they breathed in the quiet scene for a moment, foreheads pressed and eyes locked. Her fingers found the curls at his nape and she twisted them gently around her fingers as his hands again drifted under her shirt to navigate and warm her back.
Theo's bottom lip was met by Luna's teeth before their mouths met again, comforting and relieving and loving. Moments passed in the quiet as they restored each other, and the snow caught on their clothes and in their hair. Eventually Luna pulled back, bringing her hands up to brush Theo's dark locks off his brow.
"Night is coming, my love," she whispered, wide blue eyes locking with brown.
"We've got time," he insisted.
"Not for long, not for awhile," she told him, softly brushing the snowflakes from his brow.
"Luna, it's hours until dark…"
"Tonight, yes, but tomorrow...but tomorrow. Please remember that tomorrow isn't forever, my love."
"What are you…" he asked as he furrowed his brow.
"Shhhh," she pressed a finger to his lips, smiled sadly as he kissed it, then slid it away only to replace it briefly with her lips. "You know this place is for us."
"I love you," he told her.
"I love you now, and after the snow melts, and when the world crumbles into dust, and after, when we rebuild what we've only conceived of in dreams," she replied. "Always."
"Always," he repeated, knowing she wouldn't explain further, wouldn't give him more pieces of the puzzle to the future he knew she grasped in instincts and impressions. Theo took this moment, and seized it by loving Luna with everything he had, holding her while he could, kissing her always in the silent, swirling snow.