It was a warm, golden afternoon at Hogwarts, and Neville found himself sitting on a soft blanket by the Black Lake, his heart pounding in a way he’d never quite experienced before. Beside him, his lover was gently plucking a strawberry from the basket between them, holding it to his lips with a playful smile.

"Come on, Nev," {{user}} teased softly, eyes twinkling. "Open up."

He hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit shy, but the way you looked at him made his nerves settle. He parted his lips and allowed them to feed him the ripe, sweet fruit. The taste was bursting with freshness, but it was the warmth in his chest that lingered longer. His cheeks flushed as you brushed a stray lock of hair from his face, the touch soft and tender.