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A Single White Rose	By : Pat Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 5839 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
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Zabini Manor
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Neville stood nervously in front of Baxter Cottage with the luggage, hoping his granny would soon be finished fussing over what robes to wear.

She had already changed three times and it was nearing the appointed time to apparate to Zabini Manor. Their luggage was spell-timed to follow in minutes.

"First impressions, my boy, are lasting ones," Erica Longbottom had scolded affectionately.

Luckily, his granny could find nothing to object to in Neville wearing the sky-blue robes that Blaise had purchased for him prior to the Halloween Ball.

His granny, in a fit of generosity, had also bought him two new sets of s fos for the visit, one in green and the other in Gryffindor red.

Neville hoped that his granny decided against her usual ensemble of green robes, a fox-fur scarf, and hat topped with a stuffed vulture and her infamous large red handbag. She had always intimidated Neville, as a child, in that get-up.

"Stop daydreaming, my boy, are you ready to go?" came Granny Longbottom's voice.

Neville looked up at his granny coming down the front steps. She had on a new set of green robes and her usual fox-fur scarf but, blessedly, the hat and red handbag were missing. She chose instead to hold onto a small green clutch handbag that contained a few necessary personal items.

"Look lively boy, we don't want to be late," she said smiling as she instructed him to hold her arm.

Neville's heart seemed to be trying to jump out of his chest. He reached up and fingered the diamond stud earring in his left earlobe nervously. This had become an unconscious, self-soothing gesture on Neville's part lately, his Granny noted with some amusement.

Neville then felt the tug of apparation and seconds later they stood in front of a large manor.

It was a large, Tudor-style manor on several acres of beautifully groomed grounds. Neville could see magical candles in all of the windows.

Snow fell lightly and Neville could see his breath in the air. There was a sense of peace here that was very tangible.

Suddenly, the front door swung open and Blaise came flying out the front door and clattering down the front steps to greet them.

Following more slowly out the door came Blaise's parents, Albert and Fiorenza Zabini, moving forward to greet their guests.

"Lo Neville!" said Blaise as he hugged his boyfriend exuberantly.

Neville was crushed against Blaise and, in turn, burrowed against the front of Blaise's robes and gripped Blaise tightly. It had seemed ages since they'd last seen each other, but was in fact only two days.

Granny Longbottom watched in amused silence.

"Blaise! Manners!" came the scolding voice of Blaise's motas sas she approached.

Blaise blushed and disengaged himself from Neville.

"Beg pardon,Ma'am," Blaise said picking up Erica Longbottom's hand and kissing it.

Erica studied the tall, sandy-haired young man with the beautiful green eyes. Apparently, Neville hadn't exaggerated the young man's charms.

"Gran, I'd like you to meet Blaise Zabini, Blaise, this is my grandmother, Erica Longbottom," Neville said with pride.

"I'm honored to meet you ma'am, Neville has told me so much about you," Blaise said smoothly.

Erica Longbottom nodded her acknowledgement of the more proper greeting. One of the things she secretly admired about the old Slytherin families was their ability to ingrain good manners in their children.

As Blaise's parents approached, Neville skittered a little nervously to his grandmother's side, but Blaise smiled over his shoulder at his parents.

Blaise then introduced Neville and his grandmother to the Zabinis.

"Please, let's not stand on ceremony, we're Fiorenza and Albert. And may we call you Erica?" Blaise's mother said courteously.

"Please do," said Mrs. Longbottom, pleased to see that, despite their high social standing, the Zabinis were both charming and accessible.

"But here, we're keeping you both standing in the cold, please come in," Fiorenza said, gathering both Neville and his granny up and moving them towards the front door.

Neville observed his prospective in-laws closely as they walked towards the front entrance. Albert, Blaise's father, was an older version of his son, save for the fact that he had a large moustache that Blaise lacked.

His mother, Fiorenza, had lovely curly chestnut hair and hazel eyes, and she looked far too young to have been married over twenty years as well as being the mother of four children.

Once the group walked through the door, they found themselves in the rather large entrance hall. Neville's eyes widened at the sight, it was almost as big as the Longbottoms' entire cottage.

The floors were a beautiful creamy shade of marble with a gold patterning shot throughout. Several intricately carved oak doors opened off of the main hallway on either side of the dramatic oak staircase.

The staircase started off as a single staircase but, at a landing about a third of the way up, split to become twin staircases leading to the next floor.

Albert stopped at that point and called the house-elves to gather up the luggage in the front driveway and bring it to their rooms.

Two younger Zabini children stood on the lower steps of the staircase, quite obviously trying to stifle their increasing nosiness.

Neville smiled up at the children and they both returned sunny smiles without hesitation. The little girl had the biggest set of dimples Neville had ever seen.

The ages of the children were known to Neville, Blaise's younger brother, Christian, was ten and his younger sister, Anne, was eight.

Albert Zabini beckoned his younger children over to introduce them properly.

Both children bowed and curtsied correctly to their guests, but their eyes were alight with questions and inquisitiveness.

Christian was a mirror image of his brother Blaise, except his hair was darker brown like his father's Anne was a pretty young girl with curly chestnut hair and a spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.

"I'm so sorry that Samuel and Muriel weren't here to greet you but traveling with the twins is, by necessity, more troublesome. They should join us this evening in time for dinner however," Fiorenza said apologetically.

"No need to explain, my dear, Neville tells me the twins are what, just seven months?id Eid Erica.

"Yes, and as you know they'll have to portkey the babies for their safety until they are about three years of age. It's dangerous to apparate with children before then," said Fiorenza.

Blaise nudged Neville and crossed his eyes behind the adult's backs. Neville quickly stifled a snort of laughter that tried to escape him. He dug his fingernails into his palms to suppress the urge to giggle. The last thing he wanted was to create a bad impression on Blaise's parents.

"You must be tired from your journey, me sme show you to your rooms, where you can clean up and have a little rest before dinner," said Albert genially.

"Blaise will come for you when dinner is ready. Later he can take you on a tour of the manor," Albert said nodding in Blaise's direction.

Blaise grinned and said, "I'll just show Neville to his room, shall I?"

Fiorenza gave her son a quelling look but answered gently, "Of course, dear, and bring Christian and Anne with you while we show Erica to her rooms."

Blaise winced as his siblings giggled. He gave them a mock glare, but vowed to find something to distract them while he had some private time with Neville.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Neville goggled at the spaciousness and grandeur of his room. It had a dressing room, large oak four-poster bed, dresser, writing table and chair plus two large armchairs near the blazing fireplace.

It was tastefully decorated in blue and gold and gave every impression of being more than just an ordinary guest room.

Anne had slipped her hand into Neville's and had skipped along with him as he inspected the room with more and more uneasiness. Surely a family member hadn't given up this space to make room for him?

Blaise was talking to Christian in the other corner of the room, giving a blow-by-blow description of the last Quidditch match before Christmas break, when Neville felt a tugging at his hand.

"What's wrong, Neville, you look worried," said Anne in a whisper.

"Well, err—I was wondering, is this really a guest room? It looks more like a family room. I'd hate to have moved someone on my account," Neville whispered back.

Anne gave him a small swat on the arm.

"You silly!" Anne said. "This is the room all Zabini brides-to-be stay in, it's tradition."

Neville's eyebrows rose in his head until they couldn't go any further.

Anne started to giggle at Neville's expression and then couldn't stop.

Blaise looked over to see a flabbergasted expression on Neville's face, and his sister in hysterics.

Of all the family members, Anne was the most forthright but also the most likely to speak before thinking. Their father had gloomily predicted that the family might even have a Gryffindor in the making.

But despite her un-Slytherin like attitude, Anne was the baby of the family and greatly spoilt. Like all their children, she was secure in her parent's love and support.

Christian stood apart from the rest of the family as well in that he was most likely to be sorted into Ravenclaw when he entered Hogwarts the following year. His study habits and love of learning far outstripped his political savvy and ambition. That was understood and accepted by his parents.

Samuel, the eldest son, and Blaise, the second born, were the most likely to carry the Slytherin banner into the next generation.

Samuel and his wife already had good positions in the Ministry of Magic. Samuel was a junior diplomat assigned to Euro-relations and Muriel was in the public relations department.

Blaise, it appeared, was due to enter politics at some point. He had many of the innate qualities that would assure him success in his chosen field. His quickness of mind and verbal dexterity in argument, as well as his great strength in strategy, made him a natural for a leadership role.

Both his parents had high hopes that Blaise would, one day, lead a more liberal Slytherin contingent in Great Britain.

Christian studied his brother as he moved over to speak to Anne and Neville.

Blaise had taken him aside last night and spoken to him at length about his feelings for Neville. Christian had felt flattered by Blaise's confidences and had solemnly promised to welcome Neville into the family.

Christian had been surprised, but also pleased, that the question of Blaise's future had been settled so soon. But then, Blaise had always been ahead of the curve in almost every area of his life.

"Is Anne talking your ear off?" said Blaise in a bantering manner as he ruffled Anne's hair.

Anne and Neville looked at each other and Neville coughed a bit.

"Anne was just kind enough to inform me that I am staying in the "Bride's Room"," said Neville dryly.

Christian rolled his eyes at his sister.

"Anne!" he said in an exasperated manner.

"What? Well, he is, isn't he?" Anne replied.

Blaise froze momentarily but then tutted at Anne.

"Anne, why don't you go with Christian and see what the cook is preparing for tonight?" Blaise said with an imploring look in Christian's direction.

Two house elves chose that moment to pop in with Neville's luggage.

"Yes, let's, Anne," said Christian grabbing his little sister by the arm. "We can chat with Neville later."

"Oh, all right, but I still don't see what the fuss is," grumbled Anne.

Blaise waited a few minutes until both his siblings were gone and the house elves had unpacked and hung up Neville's things and had departed.

Neville didn't say a word, but walked over to the bed and sat down. He began to remove his new shoes. They had been pinching his feet dreadfully all day, but his Granny had insisted that he wear them.

He wiggled his toes in his stocking feet and sighed.

Blaise walked over to the bed and stood in front of Neville, uncertain for one of the few times in his life about what to say.

Blaise climbed up on the bed and sat by Neville in silence for a few moments.

"Are you upset about something?" Blaise asked.

Neville rubbed one foot against the other.

"Not really, but, well, I am a bit uncomfortable. I mean, you've put me in the "Bride's Room" for Merlin's sake! If I didn't have the collywobbles before, I do now," Neville blurted out.

Blaise reached out and rubbed Neville's tense back, he was tighter than a bow string.

"I'm sorry, Neville, we didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. This is the nicest guest room in the house and I wanted you to be comfortable," he said as he continued to run his hand in soothing circles on Neville's back.

Neville turned towards Blaise and said, "Don't you see it's just another expectation that I've got to meet now? For the last two days my granny has been telling me how important this visit is and not to make a cock-up of it. And before that, all my House mates were telling me how lucky I was and—"

Neville's voice trailed off and he tucked himself under Blaise's arm and cuddled against him for security.

"I don't want to disappoint you, Blaise. What if your family doesn't like me?" he said in a small voice.

"Oh, Neville, of course they will. They can see how much I love you and that's half the battle," said Blaise nuzzling Neville's neck affectionately.

"Everyone feels a bit that way. Muriel was a wreck when she first came to meet the family. That's very natural, love," he said softly.

He raised Neville's chin and kissed him lightly.

"But I'm so used to the family that I forget they can be a bit overwhelming. Especially as you've had so little experience with large families. I'm sorry, love, I should have thought this out a bit more," he said in a rueful tone.

Neville pounced on Blaise and squirmed and wiggled to try and lie on top of him. Blaise grunted with surprise.

"That's alright then," said Neville with a wicked smile. "Now where's my proper welcome?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I hear that you have a special interest in Herbology, Neville" said Fiorenza Zabini.

Neville beamed at Blaise's mother.

"Yes, yes I do. It's my best subject, and my favourite," he replied.

Fiorenza, Neville, Blaise and Albert had met downstairs in the drawing room for a small drink before dinner. Mrs. Longbottom was still upstairs, catching a quick cat-nap.

Blaise brought Neville a half-glass of white wine and handed it to him.

"Mmmm—Blaise, I've never had wine before," he said, unsure of how to refuse the wine without offending his hosts.

"Quite right, Neville. Blaise, you should have asked Neville if he wanted it," said Fiorenza with a smile.

Fiorenza smoothly removed the wine glass from Neville's grasp and handed it back to Blaise, who disposed of it.

"Neville, will you join me in some fruit punch? It's traditional around Christmas, and quite a family favourite. The ingredients are a closely guarded secret, known only to the Zabini house elves," she said in hushed tones.

"I'd love to, Mrs. Zabini, thank you," said Neville shyly.

As Fiorenza studied the young man before her, she took his measure. She, of course, had heard her son's accounts of his young Gryffindor boyfriend, but had withheld judgment until she had the chance to meet with him.

Blaise, as usual, had landed on his feet. This sweet young man was generous of spirit, loyal and had a surprising amount of strength beneath his gentle façade. Fiorenza could quite understand why Blaise was besotted with this charming boy.

"Now, Neville, you promised you'd call me Fiorenza," chided Blaise's mother.

"Oh, of course, Fiorenza," Neville said.

Just then two house elves popped in with a punch bowl and glasses.

"Ah, here is our punch, Neville," she said. "Let's go over and get some," Fiorenza said slipping her arm in Neville's.

As they walked towards the table with the punch, Blaise stared at his mother in chagrin. Before the night was out she'd have Neville's entire life story out of him. She could be a ruthless interrogator where her children were concerned.

Blaise heard a snort of laughter from his father. His father's look said it all. Don't disturb your mother if you value your hide.

Blaise took a sip of his wine and moved over to stand beside his father, who was downing his whiskey by the fireplace.

"Well?" Blaise said quietly.

"I like him. I like him very much," said Blaise's father.

"Good," said Blaise with some relief. "What does mother think?"

"Well, she hasn't shared her thoughts with me yet, but I think she does too" said Albert Zabini.

"How can you tell? She hasn't finished grilling Neville yet," Blaise said with a sympathetic look in Neville's direction. His mother was carrying on an animated conversation with Neville, who was looking slightly overwhelmed.

"You weren't here when Samuel brought Muriel home for the first time. Your mother was quite cool and distant towards her at first. Of course, some of that might have been that she only met Muriel after she and Samuel had eloped. Bad planning on Sam's part," said Albert.

Blaise waited patiently for his father to continue.

"With Neville she seems quite warm and friendly, almost protective of him. I'd say that young Neville has become one of her chicks," Albert said.

Blaise felt a sigh of relief leave him. He'd been a little nervous for Neville, his family could be a bit much when you first met them.

"Where's Mum taking Neville?" Blaise said as Fiorenza started to lead Neville out of the drawing room.

"You better go and rescue him, or your mother will be badgering him for his grades before we know it," said Blaise's father with a small laugh.

Blaise walked swiftly over to the departing couple.

"Mum, where are you off to?" said Blaise a little worriedly.

Fiorenza gave her son a mischievous look but halted her progress.

"Neville and I are going to tour the greenhouse. It seems we have more in common than I realized. Did you know that Professor Sprout has Neville working on an independent graduate level project?" Fiorenza asked.

Blaise turned to look at Neville, chagrined that in five minutes his mother had elicited information from Neville he knew nothing about.

"Is this true, Neville? Why didn't you tell me?" asked Blaise.

Neville wrapped his arms around himself in a self-soothing gesture that indicated Neville was feeling unsure of himself.

Neville bit his lip and looked down at his shoes, a clear indication that he didn't want to continue the conversation.

"Well, it's sort of hush-hush. The only thing I can tell you is Professor Sprout has a group of her best students working on creating new strains of medicinal plants," said Neville.

Fiorenza caught her husband's eye and indicated he should join them.

Albert sauntered over to catch up on what his wife was doing.

"Go on Neville, this won't go any further, I can assure you," Fiorenza coaxed gently.

"Yes, well, the Headmaster is going to officially announce it after the Christmas break, but—" Neville broke off when he saw Blaise's dumbfounded expression. He had meant to speak to Blaise privately about this, but his unruly tongue had gotten carried away with itself when he was speaking to Blaise's mother.

"The Ministry wants us to be able to accompany the Aurors in the field, should it become necessary," Neville said simply. "We're to receive medic training from the medi-witches in our senior year to prepare us, if we're called upon to help."

Blaise felt as if a boulder had been dropped upon him. He felt his mother's hand gently straightening the collar of his robes, but it felt distant, almost unreal.

From very far away he heard his father speak.

"Why don't I take Neville on that tour, my dear? I'm sure you and Blaise will need to check on what's keeping dinner?" said Albert.

Frozen in place he saw his father lead a worried Neville away towards the back of the Manor where the Greenhouse was.

"No." Blaise whispered. "No, no, no, not my Neville," he said harshly, gasping for breath.

Fiorenza attempted to wrap her arms around him but Blaise shoved his mother away.

"NO!" he shouted "I won't let them use Neville like that! He's not going to be cannon fodder for this war! I won't let them!" he roared.

Fiorenza slapped Blaise sharply across the face.

"Blaise, get a hold of yourself! This is the last thing Neville needs," she said sharply.

Blaise drew several deep breaths trying to focus his thoughts.

Tears pricked at his eyes as he spoke to his mother, "That is so Neville, serving without being asked to, putting his life on the line," Blaise said with an almost gasping hysterical laugh.

"He's a fine young man," Fiorenza said gently. "I knew that the moment I met him."

"Mum, he won't go alone," Blaise said with a hint of steel in his voice.

Fiorenza's heart stilled, somehow she'd known it would come to this.

"Are you sure, Blaise?" she asked in a cracking voice.

"I'm very sure. I'll need you and Dad to sign for me since I'm only sixteen, but I will join the Auror training as I've graduated." Blaise said, giving his mother a tremendous hug.

Fiorenza held on to her son tightly wishing she'd never have to face the possibility of his loss, but she knew in her heart that, before long, many mothers would experience the same anguish.

Blaise and Neville were babies, her babies. Her chicks. At that moment she felt a powerful surge of hatred fill her heart. Voldemort, Voldemort was responsible for this blasphemy, this ugliness. With her dying breath, she'd somehow make sure that none of these boy's sacrifices were in vain.

tbc
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- 12
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A Single White Rose