If Neville even had taken the moment to think about what he was doing, to understand what was going on, to even figure the consequences of such a manuever, he would probably be thinking along the same lines as her. He was an idiot, he was being selfish, unsympathetic, rude, abrasive, all of the above and then some. Yet, instead, he became lost in the way the embrace worked.
The way that his hands, when hers left, found home at her hips, and slipped around to slowly embrace her in his arms, one hand tracing a finger up along her spine while the other still clung to her waist.
The way her hand on his neck, and the way her lips parted became kind of like a wave of relief, and his own lips parted with hers, setting tongue against tongue, as he slipped his into her lips and found himself even further lost in her kiss. He'd always had a crush on her, he'd always found her so beautiful, and when she announced her relationship with Anton, it had actually crushed him.
Yet it was still when she announced the break up that, while he should be happy she wasn't with Anton, he was sad to see her so sad. He hated seeing her hurt, and so the emotions that were inevitable in coming when the kiss was forced to end--whenever that might be--would be tumultuous indeed. Though in this moment, at this time, everything wrong was replaced with everything right. Because as wrong as it was, it felt so right.