"Thank you for meeting me at such short notice."

Neville looked up with a frown. "Anytime, Draco. You know that," he said, watching the Transfiguration professor closely.

Draco's brows were drawn downward as he looked at the ground. "I wanted to get a bit of fresh air. Get out of the castle for a moment."

"So you owled me?" Neville smiled, shaking his head. He pulled his collar up around his neck and looked up at the sky. "It's cold enough to snow," he observed.

"Yes," Draco replied shortly. "I arranged it."

Neville chuckled. He was acting oddly, to say the least. "Have a chit-chat with Mother Nature, did you?"

Draco rolled his eyes, looking Neville in the eye for the first time that evening. "No," was his answer. He started walking down the main street of Hogsmeade proper, stirring up a good sulk from the looks of it. Having worked with Draco for six years now, Neville knew the signs.

Neville followed him down the street in silence until they reached the little pond on the edge of town near the train station. The water would have reflected an increasingly white sky, had it not been iced over. Draco made to walk further, perhaps cross the train tracks and into the forest, but Neville grabbed the fabric of his coat, got a hand on his arm when Draco finally slowed down.

"What is it, then?" Neville tugged at Draco's sleeve teasingly. "What's got you in a twist? You're worse than usual."

"Neville..." Draco trailed off before he'd began, puzzling over his wording. He had this little wrinkle between his eyebrows and a pout to his lips, and he was looking at Neville like he was either going to jump at him or jump into the icy pond. "Neville, I-"

"God, I love you," Neville said, smiling as he shook his head again.

"I-what?"

"I'm ridiculously in love with you, in case you couldn't tell."

Draco's jaw dropped in disbelief. "No it was not apparent. And you fucking beat me to it!"

Neville's laugh was cut off by Draco's lips, sudden and warm and wonderful. Draco had his cold hands on Neville's stubbly cheeks, and he was pressing closer and closer, like he wanted to climb inside Neville-or at least his coat. Neville closed his eyes and moaned a little, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist and holding on.

"There," Draco said huskily after not enough kissing. "Ha-ha. I beat you to that!" The jab was halfhearted, especially since Draco still had hands on Neville's cheeks, pads of his fingers touching the ends of Neville's hair as he looked hungrily into Neville's eyes. "Merlin, Neville, I had everything planned out and you have to ruin things."

Neville looked right back, murmuring, "You're much too Slytherin."

"You're much too Gryffindor," Draco replied, shoving him away a little. "I clearly had to hit you over the head with a giant mallet screaming my undying love in order for you to understand."

"Clearly," Neville grinned. He pulled Draco close again, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

And as Draco spluttered, grumbling about Gryffindor sentimentality, Neville looked up at the sky as it began to snow.

"You did plan it," Neville said, surprised.

"There is such a thing as weather patterns, Neville." Draco's voice was scathing, but his expression was soft. "I wanted it to be special."

Neville looked down at him, pressed his nose to Draco's. "As much as you gripe about Gryffindor sentimentality, you are certainly the biggest romantic I've ever met."

"Whatever," Draco muttered, eyes heavy-lidded. "Shut up and kiss me."

Neville wrapped an arm around Draco's neck, pushed fingers into his hair, and did just that.