Bleville AI Oneshots

Yule Ball Nerves

Neville Longbottom was doing everything in his power to avoid Blaise Zabini. Which, given that they shared nearly all of their classes and the same common areas, was proving to be more difficult than expected.

It wasn't that Blaise had done anything wrong-in fact, that was the problem. Blaise was perfect. Too perfect. Ever since they'd been paired up for a group project a few weeks ago, Neville had found himself hyper-aware of Blaise's every move. The way he casually strolled into class, all grace and quiet confidence. The way he always seemed to know exactly what to say, his voice smooth as silk. The way his dark eyes flicked toward Neville just a bit too often for Neville's comfort.

Neville's stomach did a nervous flip every time Blaise got too close, which meant Neville had been spending a lot of time "accidentally" taking different routes to class, hiding behind bookshelves in the library, and generally making himself scarce whenever Blaise was in the vicinity.

But tonight, as the announcement of the Yule Ball hung in the air, Neville's anxiety had spiked to new levels. He could feel Blaise's presence, just a few feet away in the common area, where the other 8th-year students were murmuring excitedly about who they'd ask to the ball. And of course, Blaise's gaze seemed to flicker over to him every time Neville made the mistake of glancing up.

"I can't do this," Neville muttered under his breath, staring determinedly at his Herbology notes as if they could somehow shield him from the impending disaster.

"Do what?" Ginny Weasley asked, plopping down beside him on the couch. She looked at him with a curious frown, then followed his gaze across the room to where Blaise was leaning against the wall, talking quietly with Pansy Parkinson. A knowing smirk crept onto her face. "Oh."

Neville groaned, burying his face in his hands. "It's not what you think."

"Really?" Ginny asked, her voice teasing. "Because it looks to me like you've been dodging him for weeks."

Neville's face flushed. "I haven't been dodging him," he protested, though even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true. He had been dodging Blaise-ever since the man had started looking at him like he was trying to figure something out, like he had some kind of plan that involved Neville, and Merlin help him, Neville didn't know how to deal with that.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Neville, everyone's noticed. You're practically sprinting away whenever he comes near you."

"Not sprinting," Neville mumbled, his face still in his hands.

"Fine. Speed-walking, then." Ginny nudged his shoulder. "What's the big deal, anyway? Blaise Zabini isn't exactly scary."

Neville peeked through his fingers at where Blaise was now watching him-definitely watching him-with a small, unreadable smile on his lips.

"Easy for you to say," Neville muttered, dropping his hands and staring back at his notes in a desperate attempt to look busy. "You didn't have to share a Herbology project with him. He's... intense."

"Uh-huh," Ginny said, smirking. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

Before Neville could respond, the common room grew quieter, and Ginny's eyes widened. "Heads up," she whispered. "He's coming over."

Neville's heart plummeted into his stomach. Sure enough, when he dared to glance up, Blaise was walking toward him, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. Neville's palms began to sweat, and his mind raced for an escape route, but it was too late.

Blaise reached the couch and stopped, standing just close enough that Neville could smell the faint hint of cologne and feel the warmth radiating from him. Merlin, this was torture.

"Longbottom," Blaise said, his voice smooth as ever, but there was an edge to it that made Neville's nerves go haywire. "Do you have a minute?"

Neville swallowed, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding in his chest. "Uh, I... I'm a bit busy with-" He gestured helplessly to his Herbology notes, which were probably upside down at this point.

Blaise's lips quirked into a half-smile, and he raised an eyebrow. "Herbology? Or avoiding me?"

Neville's eyes widened, and he felt heat rush to his cheeks. "I'm not avoiding you," he blurted, far too quickly to be convincing. "I've just been... busy."

"Of course," Blaise said smoothly, but his eyes were glinting with amusement, like he wasn't buying it for a second. "That's why you've been taking the long way to class every day and hiding behind bookshelves in the library, right?"

Neville gaped at him. How had Blaise noticed all of that? "I-well, I didn't-"

"Neville," Blaise interrupted, his voice gentler now, and it did something strange to Neville's chest. "You don't have to avoid me. I'm not going to hex you."

Neville let out a nervous laugh, but it sounded shaky, even to his own ears. "I know that."

"Good," Blaise said, and for a moment, the humor in his eyes softened. "Because there's something I've been wanting to ask you."

Neville blinked, his heart skipping a beat. "Ask me?"

Blaise's eyes flicked over to the small group of students chatting by the fireplace, then back to Neville. "The Yule Ball is next week," he said, as though this wasn't already common knowledge. "And I was wondering... if you'd want to go. With me."

Neville's mind went blank.

He must have misheard. Blaise Zabini couldn't possibly be asking him-Neville Longbottom-to the Yule Ball. That didn't make any sense. Blaise was suave, confident, everything Neville wasn't. This had to be a joke.

"I-what?" Neville stammered, his voice higher than usual. "You want me to go with you?"

Blaise's lips twitched again, but this time the smile was more hesitant. "Yes. That's generally how asking someone to the ball works."

Neville blinked rapidly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words. "But... why?"

For the first time, Blaise looked slightly uncomfortable. His hand came up to run through his hair, a gesture Neville had never seen him do before, and it made Blaise seem almost... human. "Do I need a reason?"

Neville's mind was racing. Why would Blaise, of all people, want to go to the ball with him? There were plenty of others-people more like Blaise, people who didn't trip over their own feet when someone attractive looked their way.

"I just... I didn't think you'd..." Neville trailed off, his cheeks burning.

Blaise sighed, his expression softening as he took another step closer. "Neville," he said quietly, his voice gentle in a way that made Neville's heart flutter, "I like you. That's why."

Neville's brain short-circuited. Blaise liked him? How was that even possible?

Before Neville could spiral any further, Blaise reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against Neville's wrist. "You don't have to say yes," Blaise added, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "But I'd like it if you did."

Neville stared at him, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst. Blaise was standing right in front of him, looking at him with something that wasn't amusement or teasing-it was real. It was honest.

"I-" Neville started, his voice shaking. "I mean, yes. Yes, I'll go with you."

Blaise's smile returned, slow and satisfied, and Neville's stomach did another flip. "Good," Blaise said, his voice low. "I'll see you there, then."

Before Neville could even process what had just happened, Blaise turned and walked away, leaving Neville sitting on the couch, staring after him in stunned silence.

Ginny let out a low whistle from beside him. "Well, I'll be damned."

Neville groaned, burying his face in his hands again. "I'm going to make a complete fool of myself."

Ginny laughed, patting his back. "Don't worry, Neville. He likes you. I think you'll be just fine."

But Neville wasn't so sure.