Bleville AI Oneshots

The Date at Hogsmeade (Part 2)

The weather was crisp, with the faintest hint of snow lingering in the air as Blaise walked alongside Neville down the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade. It wasn't snowing yet, but the sky had that pale, grey hue that promised snow would come soon. Blaise tugged his scarf tighter around his neck, glancing sidelong at Neville, who was nervously adjusting his own scarf for the tenth time since they'd left Hogwarts.

This wasn't how Blaise usually felt on dates. Normally, he was cool, collected-the one in control. But here he was, his heart thudding annoyingly in his chest as he walked with Neville Longbottom, of all people, to get a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.

The strange thing was, Blaise wasn't even sure why he was nervous. It wasn't like Neville was the most intimidating person in the world-quite the opposite, in fact. Neville was kind, a bit shy, and incredibly easy to talk to. But something about him, something about the way he carried himself now, made Blaise's usual charm feel... out of place.

"So," Blaise said, breaking the silence as they walked. "Any big plans for the holidays?"

Neville blinked, like he was startled out of his own thoughts. "Oh-uh, just spending time with Gran. It's usually just the two of us, but I think Harry and the others are stopping by this year for a bit. You?"

Blaise shrugged, trying to keep his tone casual. "The usual. My mother likes to throw her annual winter gala, so I'll have to endure that. Lots of purebloods trying to make their children look good for marriage prospects."

Neville winced. "That sounds... awful."

Blaise chuckled softly, his breath misting in the cold air. "It can be. But I'm used to it."

They fell into a comfortable silence again as they made their way to the Three Broomsticks. The pub was bustling with students and villagers alike, all eager to escape the cold and enjoy a warm drink. Blaise held the door open for Neville, who muttered a quiet thanks as they stepped inside, the warmth of the pub enveloping them.

They found a small table near the back, away from the larger groups of students, and Blaise ordered them two butterbeers. As they waited, Blaise found himself glancing at Neville, watching as he fidgeted with the edge of his scarf, his fingers tapping against the wooden table.

"So," Blaise said, leaning forward slightly, "how are you feeling about all this?"

Neville blinked, looking up at him. "All this?"

"You know," Blaise said, his voice softer now. "Being here. With me."

Neville's cheeks turned pink, and he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Honestly? I didn't think you'd actually want to go through with it."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I?"

Neville shrugged, his gaze dropping to the table. "I just... I don't know. I figured you'd change your mind. Realize there are better people you could spend your time with."

Blaise frowned, leaning forward a little more. "Neville," he said, his voice more serious now, "I asked you out for a reason. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be."

Neville looked up at him, his eyes wide and slightly surprised. "You mean that?"

Blaise smiled, and this time it was softer, more genuine. "Yes. I do."

Before Neville could respond, Madam Rosmerta appeared at their table with two frothy mugs of butterbeer. Neville mumbled a quick thanks as she set them down, and Blaise watched as he took a long drink, the foam clinging to his upper lip.

"You've got..." Blaise gestured to his own lip, smirking slightly.

Neville blinked, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, clearly flustered. "Oh, right. Thanks."

Blaise chuckled softly, taking a sip of his own butterbeer, the warm, rich taste of it settling him. "You're too hard on yourself, you know."

Neville raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You act like I'm going to change my mind at any second," Blaise said, his tone teasing but not unkind. "Like you're waiting for me to realize I've made some huge mistake."

Neville shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers fiddling with the handle of his mug. "Well, it's just... I don't know. You're you, and I'm... me."

"And?" Blaise asked, his dark eyes never leaving Neville's. "What does that matter?"

Neville looked up at him, biting his bottom lip for a moment before finally letting out a small sigh. "I just don't understand why you'd be interested in someone like me. I'm not... well, I'm not exactly what people expect you to go for."

Blaise set his butterbeer down, leaning forward, his expression more serious now. "Neville, what people expect me to go for has nothing to do with what I actually want."

Neville blinked, his brow furrowing. "And... what do you want?"

Blaise smiled, feeling that nervous flutter in his chest again, but this time, he didn't let it stop him. "I want someone who's real. Someone who doesn't care about appearances or impressing the right people. Someone who's brave enough to be themselves, even when the world's telling them to be something else."

Neville's eyes widened slightly, and Blaise could see the surprise in his expression-like no one had ever said anything like that to him before. "That's... that's me?"

Blaise smiled, softer this time. "Yes, Neville. That's you."

For a moment, Neville just stared at him, clearly processing what Blaise had said. Then, slowly, a small smile crept across his face, and Blaise felt that same warmth spread through him-the same warmth he'd been feeling every time Neville looked at him like that.

"You know," Neville said quietly, his voice a little steadier now, "you're not what I expected either."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"

Neville nodded, taking another sip of his butterbeer. "I always thought you were... I don't know, above all of this. Like nothing really mattered to you. But you're... well, you're different."

Blaise chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "I like to keep people guessing."

Neville smiled, and for the first time since they'd sat down, Blaise noticed that Neville's shoulders seemed to relax, the tension leaving him. They fell into an easy conversation after that, talking about everything from their classes to their plans for the future. Blaise found himself laughing more than he had in a while, and Neville's quiet humor surprised him in the best way.

By the time they finished their butterbeers, the sun had begun to set, casting a soft orange glow over the village. Blaise stood up, offering Neville a hand to help him up, and Neville took it without hesitation, a smile tugging at his lips.

They walked out into the cold evening air, the first few snowflakes drifting lazily down from the sky. Blaise glanced over at Neville, watching as he tilted his head back to catch a snowflake on his tongue, a soft laugh escaping him.

"You really are full of surprises, Longbottom," Blaise said, his voice light with amusement.

Neville grinned, his cheeks pink from the cold-or maybe something else. "Guess I'm not as boring as people think."

Blaise smirked, stepping a little closer to him as they walked back toward the castle. "No. You're definitely not boring."

As they reached the gates of Hogwarts, Blaise hesitated for a moment, then turned to face Neville. "So... how about we do this again sometime?"

Neville's eyes widened slightly, and Blaise saw that flicker of uncertainty again, but then Neville smiled, his gaze soft. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Blaise smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the butterbeer. "Good."

And as they walked back up to the castle, the snow falling gently around them, Blaise couldn't help but feel like, for the first time in a long time, everything was exactly how it was supposed to be.