It's getting colder every day, now, the leaf strewn Hogwarts grounds teetering precariously on the cusp of autumn and winter. These are the last few days of red and gold leaves and cinnamon spice, soon to be overtaken by frost and knit scarves from home and too-hot chocolate in chipped mugs after supper.

There are only two people to be seen, standing quietly and savoring the nearness that the chill allows for. He stands very still, dark eyes cast downward while she rocks back and forth on her heels with one small white hand tucked neatly into the pocket of his coat. Perhaps to stay warm, perhaps to keep him where he is, although there doesn't appear to be any threat of escape now.

It's almost class time nowTransfiguration for Theodore and History of Magic for Luna. He sneaks a surreptitious glance to his watch as she stares at the sky, transfixed, the leaves crunching beneath her feet. He shifts now and looks at her without speaking—but she knows too, even if when she finally speaks it has nothing to do with the fact that they're a bit late already.

"I think. . ." she trails off, her voice dreamy and her gaze shifting from the cloudless sky to his face. "It's going to snow tonight." There's certain finality in this. She blinks rather suddenly. "And we're late." He looks at her again with the barest of nods, "Yes, actually."

Luna tsk's disapprovingly and spins abruptly on her heels, withdrawing her hand from his pocket marching briskly forward with a brief backward glance to where he was still standing, raising her eyebrows curiously. "Well come on, Teddy, I hear McGonagall canes people who're late." Turning again she sets off, and with the slightest amused little huff of breath Theodore follows.