This was a request from big-ronnev-fan on tumblr :)

It was a snowy, cold December. Neville came home from Hogwarts for the holidays as usual (he was the Herbology professor). As much as Neville loved his work and his students, he loved coming home to see his husband, Ron, even more.

Ron stopped being an Auror a few years ago and decided to work with George at the family business, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. As the co-owner, he was able to take a lot of time off during the holidays to spend with Neville.

Once Neville got off the Hogwarts express, he apparated to the front door of him and Ron's home. A small, wooden house surrounded by trees, near a muggle neighborhood. He sighed happily at the sight of his cozy home he hadn't seen in three months. The curtains were drawn shut with light peaking through the edges, there was a small stream of smoke coming from the chimney, and a Christmas reef hung on the door.

When he entered the abode, he was greeted by a waft of warm air and the smell of hot chocolate and pine. He was so excited to see his love, he was hopping on his feet as he shut the door. Their pet owl, Gizmo, hooted a hello at Neville. He gave the sweet bird a gentle head scratch before looking for his husband.

"Ron! I'm home," he sang happily, removing his coat and hanging it on the hook.

He heard a loud sneeze down the hall, "Oh.. Hi honey! Um, I'm coming!" Ron responded.

Neville followed Ron's voice down the hall to their shared bedroom. He stepped into the doorway and saw Ron running hastily into the bathroom with a large handful of used tissues.

"Uh! Hi!" he blurted out. Neville heard the trash can open then slam close, then Ron ran back into the room smiling largely and sniffling.

He went to hug Neville, but hesitated, and instead leaned on the doorframe awkwardly. The two of them stood silently for a moment, Neville studied Ron, squinting at him.

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sick, dear?"

"No!" he sneezes, "Um…Absolutely not!"

"You're sniffling,"

"It's cold,"

"Not in here it isn't, the fireplace is on!" Neville smiles.

Ron crosses his arms, "I'm not sick!"

"You're sneezing,"

"I have allergies, Neville!"

"To what? The Christmas tree?"

"Maybe!"

Neville reaches out and touches Ron's forehead, "Aw, Ron, you have a fever,"

"It is hot in here, you said it yourself!"

"You just said it was cold," Neville tried his best not to laugh at him, but his lips were quivering.

"Why haven't you hugged me then?" Neville questioned.

Ron's ears were now bright red, they always turned red when he was embarrassed or flustered— Neville thought it was the cutest thing in the world.

"Fine! I am sick," he finally caved.

"I know…" Neville giggled, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was in denial!" he exclaimed, "I didn't want to ruin the holidays by being sick. I've been trying my best the past few days to get better! I tried making a Mandrake Root potion and drinking it but-" he sneezes again, "it didn't work…"

"Oh, Ron, you're silly! The Mandrake Restorative Draught potion won't help, and it can be tricky to make. You have a cold, you're not petrified! I should have the ingredients for the Pepperup Potion in my briefcase. I can make you some and you'll be better in no time," Neville said, gently cupping Ron's warm cheek in his hand.

Ron's ears and face were now redder than ever, he sighed in relief and grinned at Neville. Ron was often too stubborn to ask for help and got embarrassed every time he was sick. Which Neville thought was adorable and ridiculous considering how accident prone he could be and how often Ron had to help him when he got hurt or made a mess.

"Do you think I'll be better when everyone comes over? I don't want to be sick on Christmas," he said worriedly. Ginny, Luna, Harry, and Hermione were coming for a few days to visit, and Ron didn't want to have to cancel any plans.

"Yes, the potion cures colds within a few hours, remember? You'll have steam come out of your ears for a while though,"

"I can handle it," he smiles, taking Neville's hands in his.

"When you're cured, we can kiss all you want," Neville says, placing a kiss on Ron's upper arm.

"Well, then make me that potion as fast as you can! Hurry!"

"On it!" Neville shouts, turning on his heel and running down the hall to his briefcase, almost tripping on the carpet.

Ron laughed at his dorky, clumsy husband. His herb jars clinking loudly as he rummaged through his bags.

He couldn't wait until his pesky cold was cured so they could snog and drink hot chocolate by the fire.