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Title: Between Here and Hogsmeade
Pairing: Neville/Hermione
Rating: G
Word Count: 371
Summary: He'd tell her at Christmas.
Additional Notes: Pinch-hit for [livejournal.com profile] hp_kris_kringle.

At Christmas, he'd heard, you told the truth.

Neville glanced uneasily at the calendar by his desk. There were only five days left. He sighed, busying himself with the paperwork he'd yet to fill out, but there wasn't enough work to occupy him, now that the holidays were near. He'd long finished marking his students' exams, and because Herbology had always been more a practical subject, it hadn't been difficult to stroll quickly down the greenhouse to find which of his students' plants had survived. He sighed, brushing away a stray feather on his parchment and knocking his quills aside.

"Bugger."

"Neville?"

He blinked up, knocking aside his ink pot as he saw Hermione's head poking through his door. Another expletive escaped his lips and, upon realising he'd just cursed in front of Hermione, he cursed again. "Sorry," he winced, sheepish.

Hermione's lip twitched, as though it was trying hard not to giggle but was failing miserably. "I was just wondering if you were still busy, because I'd just finished all the fifth years' essays and I could really go for The Three Broomsticks right now."

Neville grinned. "That bad?" he asked knowingly.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "It's only Arithmancy, really, how difficult would it be to get the proper numerical properties for the equations?"

Neville bit his lips to keep from saying anything, because he was rather sure it was, indeed, very difficult to remember those things. Instead he held out the door for Hermione, following her out Hogwarts castle to the familiar path that led to Hogsmeade, Hermione still talking about the essays she'd had to mark.

"How were yours, by the way?"

Neville shrugged, placing both hands deep in his coat pockets. "Wasn't that bad, they knew their plant properties well enough, at least."

"At least one of us had it easy," Hermione teased.

"Tell me that when you find me trying to wrestle a grown Mandrake to the ground after it received the wrong fertilizer," Neville countered.

"It was only three feet tall," Hermione pointed out.

"It grew fangs!"

Both of them burst out laughing.

"Hey, Hermione?" he asked, when the laughter had died down and they'd neared Hogsmeade.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, well. It's snowing," he said, taking out an umbrella and holding it above the two of them.

He'd tell her on Christmas, he promised.
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