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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
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Christmas Eve Day

Neville slowly awoke in his cocoon of warmth, his body curling up in a foetal position with pleasure. The sheets were soft and smelled of sunshine. As he arched backwards in a languid stretch, he heard a grunt as he made contact with a solid object.

Neville jumped, startled by the unexpected company in bed.

"Guess who?" a groggy voice said next to his ear.

Neville relaxed and then yawned.

"Blaise, what's going on?" Neville said in a muzzy voice.

Blaise pulled Neville's back up against his chest and curled around his body. He nuzzled Neville's neck and dropped light kisses there.

"I missed you," Blaise said in a smoky voice.

Blaise's voice sent spikes of desire through Neville's entire body right down to his little curling toes.

Neville, now more or less awake, felt Blaise's morning erection press against his buttocks.

"Do you think this is really a good idea? I thought we were going to save something for the honeymoon?" Neville said with a teasing movement of his hips.

This elicited a deep growl from Blaise.

"Neville, you little tart, if you keep that up the honeymoon's going to happen right here and now," Blaise rumbled in a mock threatening tone.

Neville turned around to face his boyfriend. Blaise was still in his clothes from the previous evening, apparently he'd only removed his robes before he'd slipped into bed with Neville.

"As much as I love the idea of you being overcome with lust, I think you may have another reason for being here. It looks like you haven't been to bed at all. Come on, fess up, what's bothering you?" asked Neville.

Blaise leaned forward and playfully bit Neville on the chin and then licked the bite. The feeling of Blaise's tongue rasping against his early morning stubble was incredibly erotic.

"You're right. After dinner I had a long talk with my father while you and my mother examined her rose bushes in the greenhouse," Blaise said slowly.

"About?" Neville probed.

"About your possible work with the Aurors as a medic herbologist. I've told my father that I'll be going into Auror training as soon as I graduate," said Blaise with feigned indifference.

## Flashback ##

Albert Zabini stared at his whisky in the firelight, watching the play of light on the glass. Blaise had just announced his intentions to start Auror training after graduation and Albert was only too painfully aware of the risks his son would be taking.

"Are you doing this because of Neville? Because, if you are, remember that he may never be called upon to serve," said Albert, grasping for straws.

"Yes, it's about Neville and the love I have for him, but he's also opened my eyes to my own responsibilities in the upcoming war," Blaise said, sitting down beside his father on the sofa.

Blaise studied his hands for a moment before speaking.

"Papa, my little gardener is a gentle soul, someone who works with the earth to produce things to enhance all of our lives. He's no soldier, nor does he espouse to be, and yet he's offering up his talents and possibly his life to def defeat Voldemort. Could I do anything less?" asked Blaise.

Albert felt a catch in his throat. Blaise hadn't called him Papa since he'd first left for school.

They sat silently for a few minutes, feeling the warmth of the fire and listening to the crackling of the logs.

"Besides, Sam is married and has a wife and babies to care for, Christian and Anne are too young, thank Merlin. You and Mum will be working the political end so it only makes sense" Blaise continued.

Albert cleared his throat.

"I understand, Blaise. I don't have to like it, but I do understand," said Albert with a grim visage.

Blaise reached over and tugged his father into a tight bear hug.

## End Flashback ##

Blaise had Neville's full attention now.

"Blaise, are you sure this is what you want to do? It's awfully dangerous, you know," said Neville in a concerned voice.

Blaise let out a short bark of laughter while playing with a strand of Neville's hair.

"I wouldn't be much of a Slytherin if I didn't know. But why did you agree to serve with the Aurors, Neville? And why didn't you tell me before we left Hogwarts?" Blaise said, turning the tables on his lover.

Neville's face fell.

"My parents," he whispered. "Voldemort destroyed them. Oh, they're technically still alive, but they may as well be dead. My family is gone because of him and I never want that to happen to anyone else."

Blaise cursed intensely.

"Neville, forgive me, I'm quite profoundly stupid sometimes. Of course you want to avenge your family," he said, kissing Neville gently.

Neville broke the kiss.

"I'm sorry, too, Blaise, I was going to tell you as soon as we had a private moment together after I'd arrived. But your mum got me talking and—" Neville said, trailing off.

Blaise smiled down wryly at Neville.

"Say no more. Fiorenza Zabini, interrogator was on duty last night. Stronger men than you have fallen before her," Blaise said and tickled Neville's ribs.

Neville let out a shriek of laughter and tried to push Blaise's hands away. They started to roll around and around in the bed, getting nosier with each minute.

"Masters?" a squeaky voice said.

With the comforter and bodies flying, at first Blaise and Neville didn't hear the house elf.

"MASTERS!" Poona, the upstairs house elf, shouted.

Neville and Blaise's heads whipped around to stare at the house elf. Neville's pyjama top had been pulled off and Blaise's shirt buttons had been torn off by their roughhousing. They were both breathing heavily.

"Yes, Poona?" Blaise said, trying to maintain a shred of dignity. Neville giggled.

"Madame says breakfast is ready. Mr. Samuel is here now with his family," said the elf nervously. He wasn't sure if the boys had been fighting or mating-fighting, either way the young masters might not be too happy with him for interrupting.

"Sam and Muriel have finally arrived with the twins, eh? Just in time for Christmas Eve Day. Leave it to Sam to cut it close," joked Blaise.

Neville looked at Blaise with a suddenly horrified expression.

"Blaise," Neville squeaked. "How did your mother know you were here?" he said with his eyes as wide as Galleons.

Blaise jumped out of the bed and grabbed his robes.

"Some things are just better not to think about," Blaise said with a shudder.

Blaise dropped a quick kiss on Neville.

"Let's hurry, love. Take a shower and get dressed. I'll come for you as soon as I've cleaned up," Blaise said as he flew out the door.

Neville sat breathless for a moment and then heard a squeaky voice beside him.

"Your robe, sir?" said Poona, holding a silk dressing gown for Neville to slip into. This household might take a bit of getting used to.

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

Erica Longbottom hummed as she applied the last of her make-up. She peered into the wizarding mirror and checked her eye shadow.

An impertinent wolf whistle came from the mirror.

"You're so fine," it sang in a sing-song voice.

Granny Longbottom gave a sharp crack to the side of the mirror with her hand, hitting the surrounding wood, the many rings on her hand creating a metallic sound.

"Here now, behave yourself or I'll turn you into a muggle mirror," she said in her no-nonsense voice.

No more sounds came from the wise mirror.

Erica was enjoying herself immensely, the dinner last night had been very fine and Blaise's family both warm and accepting of Neville and his granny.

"That will teach those old cats to doubt my word," she said to the now unresponsive mirror.

When Granny Longbottom had first mentioned Neville's blossoming relationship with young Zabini to her circle of friends, they had evidenced polite disbelief.

The idea that young Neville had captured the heart of the scion of a powerful Slytherin family was ludicrous. Dear Neville has his points to be sure, but nabbing one of the catches of the season was too incredible to be believed.

"Hah! They sang a different tune when the invitation came," muttered Erica to herself.

Neville had also told his granny before they left about his upcoming medic training upon Professor Sprout's recommendation.

"Just so," she had said. "Following in your dear father's footsteps."

Erica felt a twinge as she allowed herself to think about her son and his wife now ensconced in St. Mungo's. They would never know about Neville's accomplishments, never be able to cry with her at his bonding.

A small tear ran unchecked down her cheek. Granny Longbottom hunted for a hankie inside her robes and, once she found it, blew her nose soundly.

"Silly old cow," she said to herself. "This is a time for celebration, not tears," and with that, she moped her face up and prepared to go down to breakfast

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

"The twins are finally asleep," said Muriel, a pretty young woman with pale blue eyes and wispy blond hair.

The tall young man currently sitting on the bed pulling on his socks grunted.

"Thank Merlin for mama's house elves, they'll keep those two little hellions spoilt and happy for the duration of our visit," said Samuel, Muriel's husband and the oldest Zabini child.

Muriel laughed.

"Now Sam, they're just lively that's all," she protested.

The dark-haired man grinned back at her.

"I have another word that would suit them better, but in the interests of our love life I won't bring it up," Samuel said.

Muriel smiled fondly at her husband. She and Sam had met and fallen in love while they were at Hogwarts. Less than a year after graduation they'd eloped. Now, three years later, they had two healthy twin boys. Life was good.

Sam was the mirror image of his Zabini grandfather rather than his two lighter complexioned parents. He had raven black hair and an olive skin tone rather than the lighter one his parents had produced in the rest of the family.

Fiorenza had always called Sam her "little changeling" but he had the family eyes and trademark nose that marked him indisputably as a Zabini.

Muriel took out her clothing for the day and cast a simple de-wrinkling spell. They'd arrived late last night and hadn't had an opportunity to unpack. The house elves would help with that when Muriel and Sam left for breakfast.

"So tell me more about Blaise's boyfriend, what else did his letter say?"

Sam paused in putting his shoes on and said rather vaguely, "Well, there's not too much to tell, he met him at Hogwarts, they've been dating for a while," he replied.

Muriel shook her head in mild exasperation.

"Not too much to tell? Blaise, according to you, has asked Neville to become his bond-mate, don't you want to know more about him?"

Sam looked a little bemused.

"Muriel, Blaise has sworn us to secrecy about the engagement, he wants to be able to tell mum and dad himself. I didn't ask more and he didn't tell," said Sam firmly.

Muriel looked at her husband in shock.

"Sam, he's going to marry your brother, don't you want to know more about him and his family?"

"Don't worry, my sweet, I'm sure my mother has everything in order and will be able to fill you in on everything from their first date to the earrings Blaise recently purchased," said Samuel fondly.

Muriel squealed.

"Not fair, you liar! Your mother has already filled you in, hasn't she," Muriel said approaching her husband in mock anger.

Samuel threw his hands up in surrender.

"Caught. I'll admit it, I've been given a bit of inside knowledge," he said with a smile.

"Give," ordered Muriel with her hands on her hips.

Samuel suddenly sobered.

"Well, I think you know the sad story of the family. Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom are now at St. Mungo's and probably will remain so—"

The remaining smile crumpled on Muriel's face. It was, in fact, a story well known by most wizarding families, one of the saddest incidents that had occurred during the first rising of Voldemort. Frank Longbottom, a famous Auror, and his wife had been driven mad by torture. Their minds had fled never to return. It would have been kinder if they had died.

Muriel's tender heart ached with sympathy for the little boy who'd been left behind, his world shattered.

Her thoughts skittered to her own baby boys in the next room. Who would be there if something happened to Sam and herself? She comforted herself with the thought that the Zabinis had a large extended family, and that even in the worst case scenario, her boys would be well taken care of.

Sam looked at his wife's downcast face and tried to lighten the atmosphere.

"Neville, according to my mother, is a specialist in Herbology—" Sam said holding out his hand for his wife to take a seat on the bed beside him.

Muriel's impish smile lit up her face as she sat down.

"Tell me more."

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

Neville's eyes widened as he and Blaise walked down the front stairway on their way to breakfast in the large dining room. Overnight, the house elves had worked their particular brand of magic to make sure the house was completely decorated from top to bottom for Christmas.

A twenty-foot tree stood straight and tall in the high-ceiled grand front hallway of the home. Its branches were covered in delicate fairy lights, silver and gold ornaments as well as wizard's garland that sparkled and changed colours every few minutes.

Below the tree were dozens and dozens of presents gaily wrapped. Neville's mind boggled at the idea of anyone having so much money at his or her disposal for the enormous display. He hoped that the presents he and his granny had brought with them for Blaise and his family would be adequate.

"What's wrong, Neville?" asked Blaise, who recognized Neville's fretful expression.

Neville stopped on the landing of the stairs and pointed over at the tree and the gifts underneath.

"It's just a little overwhelming, that's all, Blaise. Granny and I, well, we had quiet Christmas each year, you know?" said Neville tentatively.

The admission startled Blaise momentarily. He'd never considered how Neville's perspective and experience might be quite different from his own. If Neville thought this was extravagant, what would he make of the Christmas Eve party his parents would be hosting tonight?

"Neville," he sighed "Forgive me, I should have told you about tonight," Blaise said, grabbing a hold of Neville's hand within his own.

"What about tonight?" Neville said slightly alarmed.

Blaise stroked the back of Neville's hand.

"Do you remember that we agreed that I'd tell my family on Christmas Eve about our engagement?" Blaise asked Neville.

Neville nodded his head vigorously.

"Yes, you said it would be best to have the whole family gathered together to only have to say it once, and I agreed," said Neville.

"Well, it turns out that my mother has planned a little get together for the neighbours tonight, so I thought we could make the announcement in front of family and friends," said Blaise in a monotone.

"How many friends?" asked Neville, starting to get both suspicious and nervous. He was already a wreck at the idea of announcing the engagement to the family members, let alone to a number of strangers.

"They may not all show up of course," muttered Blaise.

"How many?" said Neville not about to be put off.

"It's just that the parties are quite popular, you know," continued Blaise dodging the question.

"Blaise! How many people," said Neville with a quiver in his voice.

Blaise pulled Neville close to him.

"Maybe fifty or sixty, maybe," said Blaise nervously.

"WHAT???"

TBC
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A Single White Rose