Bleville AI Oneshots

The Measurements

Blaise Zabini had a lot of talents. He was sharp, charming, and undeniably fashionable. But what most people didn't know was that Blaise had a hobby-one he didn't share with just anyone.

Blaise designed clothes.

It wasn't something he talked about much, but anyone who knew him well enough could guess. His impeccable taste in robes, the way he was always tweaking and altering his outfits to fit him perfectly-it was more than just a fashion sense. Blaise had a genuine passion for creating things, for taking a piece of fabric and turning it into something elegant, something that spoke to his meticulous eye for detail.

And now, Blaise had a new project in mind. One that involved Neville Longbottom.

"Why me?" Neville had asked, his cheeks already turning pink as Blaise had explained his idea in the common room the night before.

Blaise had smirked. "Because you're my muse, obviously."

Neville had blinked, flustered beyond belief. "Your... muse?"

"Yes, Neville. You've got that... understated charm," Blaise had said, his voice dripping with amusement. "I think it's time I made something for you. Something that suits you."

Which was why, the next morning, Neville found himself standing in Blaise's room, looking incredibly out of place as Blaise prepared his measuring tape and sketchbook.

"Are you sure this is necessary?" Neville asked nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

Blaise glanced up, already wearing his usual amused smile. "Of course it is. If I'm going to make you an outfit, I need your measurements. I can't just guess, can I?"

Neville swallowed hard. He wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of being measured all over by someone as poised and elegant as Blaise. Not to mention that Blaise was Blaise-confident, effortlessly charming-and standing so close to him made Neville's heart race.

"All right," Neville muttered, already feeling his face warm. "I'll try not to move."

Blaise chuckled softly, taking the measuring tape in hand and stepping closer to Neville. "Good. Now, stand still."

Neville took a deep breath, standing as rigidly as he could as Blaise reached out and gently wrapped the tape around his chest. Blaise's fingers brushed lightly against Neville's ribs as he adjusted the tape, and Neville's heart stuttered in his chest. He tried to focus on anything else-the books on Blaise's shelves, the sketchpad sitting on the table nearby-but the soft, steady touch of Blaise's hands made it impossible to think straight.

"Chest, 42 inches," Blaise murmured, scribbling down the measurement in his notebook.

Neville's face flushed, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Is that... normal?"

Blaise glanced up, one eyebrow raised. "Perfectly normal," he said with a small smirk. "Now for the shoulders."

Neville stood perfectly still as Blaise moved the tape up to measure his shoulders, his fingers brushing against Neville's collarbone as he worked. Neville swallowed hard, willing himself not to blush even harder. Blaise was just doing his work-this was nothing more than taking measurements. But the way Blaise's hands moved so carefully, the way he was so focused on every inch of Neville's body-it was driving Neville mad.

Blaise moved down to measure Neville's waist next, kneeling slightly to get the measurement right. His hands were gentle, but firm, as he wrapped the tape around Neville's middle, and Neville couldn't help but feel a fresh wave of heat creep up the back of his neck.

"You're... really good at this," Neville said, trying to make conversation to distract himself.

Blaise chuckled softly, glancing up at him from his kneeling position. "I should hope so. I've been doing this for years."

Neville smiled awkwardly, but the sight of Blaise, now eye-level with his stomach, was doing things to his nerves that he hadn't expected. He bit his lip, trying to stay calm, but every time Blaise's fingers brushed against his sides, it sent little jolts of warmth through him.

"Waist, 34 inches," Blaise murmured, jotting it down in his notebook.

Neville exhaled shakily as Blaise stood back up, thinking it was almost over-until Blaise moved around to stand behind him.

"And now for the inseam," Blaise said casually, completely unaware of the fact that Neville's brain had just short-circuited.

Neville froze, his face going completely red. "The... inseam?"

Blaise looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Yes. I need to measure your legs."

Neville swallowed hard, feeling his face burn. "Oh. Right. Of course."

Blaise didn't seem to notice Neville's discomfort-or, if he did, he wasn't letting on. He knelt down again, this time with the tape measure in hand, and reached for Neville's leg. His fingers brushed against Neville's thigh as he measured from the inside of his leg down to his ankle, and Neville had to bite his lip to keep from making an embarrassing sound.

His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was sure his face was about ten shades of red by now. This was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. Blaise was just taking measurements, but the whole situation felt far too intimate for Neville's poor nerves to handle.

"Almost done," Blaise said, his voice calm and measured as if this were just another day for him.

Neville's brain was screaming at him to calm down, but Blaise's hands were still brushing against his legs as he took the final measurements, and Neville was starting to feel lightheaded. His heart was racing, his palms were sweating, and every time Blaise's touch lingered, even for a second, Neville felt like he might pass out.

"There we go," Blaise said after a moment, standing up and giving Neville a satisfied smile. "All done."

Neville let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, his entire body relaxing in relief. "Great," he said, his voice shaky. "That wasn't so bad."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, smirking as he scribbled down the last of his notes. "I'm glad you survived the ordeal," he teased. "But honestly, Neville, you need to relax. You're far too tense."

Neville forced a nervous laugh, still trying to catch his breath. "I just... I'm not used to people, you know... measuring me."

Blaise's smirk softened into something more genuine, and he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto Neville's with that same intensity that always made Neville's heart race. "You did well," Blaise said softly. "And I have to say, you're a perfect model for this."

Neville blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. "I am?"

Blaise nodded, his voice low and warm. "You've got a unique shape. Strong, but soft. Perfect for the outfit I have in mind."

Neville's heart stuttered in his chest, and he felt his face heat up again. "I-uh-thanks?"

Blaise chuckled, clearly amused by Neville's flustered state. "You're welcome," he said, his voice still soft. "And don't worry. The finished product will look incredible on you."

Neville smiled weakly, still feeling far too flustered for his own good. "I'm sure it will. You're... really good at this."

Blaise's smile widened, and he stepped back slightly, giving Neville one last once-over before turning back to his sketchbook. "You'll see," he said casually, as if measuring people up close and leaving them breathless was just another part of his day. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be the best-dressed wizard in Hogwarts."

Neville's heart was still pounding, but he managed a small smile. "I'll take your word for it."

Blaise's eyes flickered up to meet his again, and for a moment, there was a spark of something-something warm, something real-in his gaze. "You'll see," Blaise repeated, his voice softer now. "I'll make sure of it."

Neville's breath caught in his throat, and for the first time since the whole measuring ordeal had begun, he felt something more than just nervousness. He felt... excited. Nervous, yes, but also a little bit thrilled. Because Blaise Zabini-the confident, talented, endlessly charming Blaise-had just spent the entire morning focused on him.

Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't just about clothes after all.