Title: Runic Reunion
Author: alisanne
Characters: Neville Longbottom/Blaise Zabini
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Themes/kinks chosen: Unfortunate incidents. :)
Word Count: ~3800
Summary: Blaise needs help and Neville discovers that he, like other heroes, has a 'saving people thing'.
Author's notes: This was the closest I've come to not having a DD fic. Thanks to the mods for allowing me to post this late in the month, and to lilyseyes and emynn for the speedy beta.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.


~

Runic Reunion

~

“This is like a Slug Club reunion,” a smooth voice said.

Neville’s eyes snapped up and and he stood up straight. “Excuse me?”

An impeccably dressed Blaise Zabini was standing there, a smirk on his lips. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Neville raised an eyebrow. “Of course I do. You’re Blaise Zabini.”

A startled expression crossed Zabini’s face before he smiled. “I’m surprised.”

As Neville had always thought Zabini pretty hot, he coughed. LIke I could forget you? “I’ve always had a decent memory for faces,” he said.

“Ah.” Zabini cleared his throat. “Anyway, since we were both in the Slug Cub in school I thought I could buy you a drink.”

Neville’s eyes narrowed. “This is pretty sudden.”

“Not really,” Zabini said, tone rueful. He leaned forward. “To be honest, I was walking by, saw you through the window, and thought I’d take a chance and see if you’d like to have a drink.” His smile was self-deprecating and Neville couldn’t help but respond.

Neville smiled. “I wouldn’t consider myself to be a real member of the Slug Club,” he confided. “I got the invitation to the first meeting but no others.” He shrugged. “I guess I just wasn’t interesting enough.”

“Even Slughorn is known to have made mistakes,” Zabini said. “I bet if anyone asked him, he’d claim you now.”

Neville laughed. “Maybe he would. Although really, getting dropped from that club didn’t bother me,” he said. “I was a bit puzzled as to why he even invited me in the first place, actually.”

Zabini’s eyes dropped to Neville’s mouth. “I imagine it was because he saw your...potential,” he murmured.

With a start, Neville realised Zabini was actually flirting.

“Our Neville certainly does have potential, mate,” a not-so-friendly voice said from the left. “What we want to know is--”

“...what’s your interest in him?” said a matching voice from the right.

Neville sighed. “I can handle this, Fred. George.”

“I certainly hope you can handle me,” Zabini purred.

All three men looked askance at him and he grimaced. “Too much? Sorry. Look, I just need to talk, all right, Longbottom?” Zabini glanced to either side. “Preferably without the bodyguards.”

Fred opened his mouth to speak, shutting up when Neville shook his head. “Yeah, all right,” he agreed, ignoring the looks on the twins’ faces. “Once I’m done here we can go get a drink at the pub across the street.”

“Thanks,” Zabini said. Ducking out from Fred and George’s encircling arms, he walked to the back of the store and waited, picking up and discarding the occasional item as he browsed.

“How can you trust him? He was in Slytherin,” Fred hissed, loudly enough that there was no doubt that Zabini would hear him.

Neville rolled his eyes. “He was. And must I remind you that not all Slytherins are evil? Zabini was one of the ones who refused to hex people when the Carrows ordered it, and he helped get the younger students out during the Battle of Hogwarts.”

George frowned. “Whatever, mate,” he muttered, throwing a dark look at Zabini’s back. “It’s your funeral.”

Once Verity returned from her break, Neville was able to extricate himself from Fred and George’s overly protective clutches long enough to signal Zabini that he was ready to go. He didn’t work there, but it had been busy when he’d stopped by, and so he’d pitched in.

It was early evening so the pub was open and they had their pick of tables, Zabini opting for one that was out of the way in the corner.

Both men ordered a pint, and then Neville settled back into his seat, cradling his mug in his hand. “Right, so what can I help you with?”

“You work for Ancient Artifacts, right?”

Neville nodded.

“And I seem to recall you being pretty good at runes in school,” Zabini continued, his long fingers playing with the edge of his glass. Neville tore his gaze away from those oddly fascinating fingers.

“Most people remember me as just being good at Herbology,” he said.

Zabini smiled. “Slytherins notice all sorts of things,” he said. “Like when you said to the Weasleys that not all of us are evil.” He hesitated, dropping his eyes. “Did you really mean that?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” Neville replied, sipping his ale.

Zabini’s eyes flew back to his and he nodded slowly. “I tried hard to be as neutral as possible during the war,” he said quietly, voice low and intense. “High profile people like Malfoy had no choice, but I managed to stay out of the limelight for the most part, and it pretty much worked, or so I thought.”

“Did something happen to you?” Neville asked.

“You could say that.” Zabini’s mouth twisted into a bitter line. “I could tell things were coming to a head a few days before the battle at Hogwarts, so I contacted my mother to ask her if I could go to her.” Zabini looked away. “I suppose it sounds cowardly to a brave Gryffindor like you, but all I wanted was to be safe.”

Neville shook his head. “That sounds like some pretty sane reasoning to me, actually,” he said.

Zabini sighed. “As it turns out I would have been safer at school,” he muttered. “Mother sent for me, but when I arrived it was to find that Death Eaters had her trapped in our house. They...” Zabini swallowed hard. “They forced her to take the Dark Mark, and when I arrived they tried to make me take it, too.”

Inadvertently, Neville’s eyes flicked towards Zabini’s left arm.

Zabini smiled. “The Dark Lord was too busy to come and administer the Mark himself, though, so he sent Bellatrix Lestrange. She gave me an amulet, a relic of Slytherin himself, or so she said, to bind me to the Dark Lord’s service until he could arrive.”

Interested despite himself, Neville leaned forward. “Oh? Can I see it?”

“Of course. That’s what I need your help with. Even though I didn’t end up taking the Mark, I am still bound to this...thing. The bond Bellatrix established didn’t dissolve when she died, nor when Potter defeated the Dark Lord.” Opening his robes, Zabini drew out a pendant and showed it to Neville.

It was silver and it had several unfamiliar runes on it. In addition, the shape of a plant of some kind embossed on it. Neville didn’t recognize the leaves or the flower depicted. He reached out to touch it but Zabini drew back. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” he warned. “It’s burned other people.”

Neville nodded. “How do you know you’re still bound to it?” he asked.

“Ever since the end of the war I’ve not felt well. I thought it was aftereffects of all that I’d been through, but when I steadily got worse my mother sent me to Healers all over Europe, but none of them could do anything. I’d resigned myself to being weak but lately things have been getting worse. I’m losing weight, I can’t sleep, and my magic is...unreliable.” Zabini’s hand was shaking and Neville suppressed an unexpected urge to touch him.

“You look all right,” Neville said.

Zabini smiled bitterly. “I’ve always been adept at Glamours. It was useful in Slytherin. It’s getting harder to hold this one, though. All magic’s hard these days.”

Neville sat back, narrowing his eyes. “Show me what you really look like,” he said.

With a shrug, Zabini muttered something and it was as if he’d aged ten years. His eyes appeared to have sunken into his head, his skin had an ashen cast to it. Even his hair seemed lifeless. He lifted a shaky hand to conceal his face from the rest of the room as Neville stared at him.

“I’m sorry,” Neville whispered.

“Why? It’s not your fault.” Zabini looked around nervously. “Have you seen enough? Do you mind if I--?”

Neville nodded and Zabini tried to recast his Glamour. It took him several attempts until, finally, it held, and he straightening up in his chair.

Taking a sip of his ale. Neville considered him carefully. “So how can I help?” he finally asked.

“First, you’re a runes expert,” Zabini said. “I hoped you could tell me more about this thing.” He smiled wryly. “And second, you’re also an Herbology expert, so, even if you can’t crack this curse, I thought you could possibly identify the plant on the amulet, set me on the right path to breaking it.”

“I can certainly try.” Neville held Zabini’s gaze. “But we won’t get too far unless I can take a closer look at it.”

Zabini blinked, clearly surprised. “You people have warded rooms to examine artefacts in the Ministry, right?”

“Yes. My office should work.”

“Then maybe we could go there?”

“All right.” Tipping back his drink, Neville inclined his head towards the door. “Let’s go.”

“You’re actually going to help me?” Zabini exhaled.

“Of course.” Neville frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Zabini shrugged. “It’s like your Weasley friends said. I’m a Slytherin. Some people hold grudges.” His lips twisted. “Why do you think I went to Europe to look for a cure? I couldn’t trust anyone here not to hold my House against me.”

Neville shook his head and stood up. “Not me. Now let’s go.’

“Won’t there be questions?” Zabini asked as they exited the pub.

Neville shrugged. “This is as good time to go since no one’s likely to be around.”

~

“Why did you feel the need to flirt with me in the shop earlier?” Longbottom asked as he leaned over to examine the amulet more closely. They were in his office, which was deep in the bowels of the Ministry, and, as he’d predicted, no one was around. He’d locked and warded the room before putting up his strongest shields and he’d even slipped on gloves. Only then, impressed by his precautions, had Blaise turned over the amulet.

Blaise winced. Fuck, I was hoping he’d forgotten that. “I thought it would help you to see me in a new light.”

Longbottom glanced up at him for moment. “Do you usually flirt with men when you need favours?”

Blaise almost laughed. “Well I am Slytherin.”

Chuckling, Longbottom returned his attention the the amulet. He turned it over in his fingers. “That you are. Well, I think I can tell why you’re feeling so ill.”

“Oh?” Blaise leaned forward. “What is it?”

“It’s leeching away your magic.” Longbottom traced a couple of the runes. “I thought this one looked familiar. It’s formed a bond with your magical core and it’s slowly stealing it. I imagine Voldemort would have somehow made it drain your magic into himself, if he’d had the chance. It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long.”

Blaise shivered. “Damn.”

Longbottom nodded. “Exactly. This is really diabolical.” He sighed, putting it down. “I’m not sure the bond can be broken.”

Blaise closed his eyes. He’d known it was a long shot, but he’d had nowhere else to go. “I understand,” he whispered. “Thanks anyway--”

“I didn’t say there wasn’t anything to try,” Longbottom interrupted. “I don’t know if it will work, but I have heard of cases where the bonds formed by cursed amulets can be subverted, redirected.”

Blaise blinked at him. “You have?”

“Yes.” Longbottom bit his lip. “There’s no guarantee, though.”

“I understand,” Blaise said. “Whatever it takes I’ll do it.”

Longbottom looked uncomfortable. “You should hear what it’ll take before you say that.”

“All right. But there’s nothing I won’t try. Nothing. I can’t keep living like this. I feel like I have a half life.”

Longbottom nodded, eyes sympathetic. “All right.” He licked his lips, clearly not wanting to tell Blaise what the issue was. “But this ritual...it involves...sex.”

Blaise blinked, surprised. “Sex?”

Longbottom nodded, his gaze focussed on a spot just to the left of Blaise’s shoulder. “Sometimes this sort of bond can be disrupted by sex.” He coughed. “It makes sense really, since what the amulet has done is establish itself as a drain on your magic, there’s not much that’s powerful enough to interrupt that. But sex can be, if done right.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “Done right?” Despite himself he smiled. “As in it has to be really good sex?”

Longbottom was blushing. “Er, no. As in it has to be performed according to a certain ritual. And I...I mean someone will have to undo the bond as they, er--”

“Fuck me?” Blaise murmured, just to see Longbottom’s reaction.

He didn’t disappoint, his eyes widening as he choked. “I--”

Blaise took pity on him. “You’re saying the person doing the...ritual will need to be an expert in runes?”

“Yes.” Longbottom had gone back to concentrating on the spot to Blaise’s left. “If you prefer I’m sure I can talk one of my colleagues into--”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Blaise’s fingers began unbuttoning his robes. “You’re not telling anyone else about this. Are we doing it now?”

Longbottom’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you want to--”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “I was just flirting with you a few hours ago,” he reminded Longbottom gently. “Or had you forgotten?”

“I hadn’t.” Longbottom regarded him warily. “I wasn’t sure how genuine that was, though. You needed my help--”

Blaise shrugged. “I did,” he admitted, his robes sliding off his shoulders. “Still do, obviously. But I also have no objections to sleeping with you. You’re rather fit, truth be told.” He gaze was admiring. “And you definitely came into your own seventh year.”

Longbottom pursed his lips. “Who says I’m gay?”

Blaise smirked. “Straight men usually react a bit more...forcefully to another bloke flirting with them.”

“Oh.” Longbottom exhaled. “Right. Well, if you’d like we could do it now. We pobably should, actually. The rate that amulet’s draining you--” He shivered. “This room is heavily warded and it a good spot to undo runes.” Carefully, he handed the amulet back. “And you’ll need to wear this. Sorry.”

“Right.” After slipping off his shirt and trousers, Blaise placed the amulet back on and stood naked but for his pants in front of Longbottom. He smiled, pleased by the admiring looks Longbottom was shooting his way. “Shall we?”

~

Neville couldn’t believe it. When he’d got up that morning that very last thing he’d thought he’d be doing was shagging anyone, much less Blaise Zabini. Although there are worse things, he decided, eyeing Zabini’s fit body as he undressed.

“Aren’t you undressing, too?” Zabini asked. “Or do you like to keep your clothes on?” He slowly smiled. “That’s a bit more kinky than I thought you’d be, Longbottom.”

Blushing, Neville started to unfasten his robes. “We’ll just have to make sure I don’t touch the amulet with my bare skin until the right time,” he said.

“Understood.”

As he got himself ready, Neville kept stealing looks at Zabini. Something about him was keeping Neville unbalanced. I’m looking forward to this far too much, he realised a moment later. Zabini bent over to move his boots out of the way and Neville’s mouth went dry.

“How about we do it over here?” Zabini asked straightening up and gesturing towards Neville’s sofa that was covered with parchments and books.

“Yes, sure.” Drawing his wand, Neville levitated the entire pile of stuff on it over onto his desk before Transfiguring it into a larger sofa.

“Nice,” murmured Zabini, slipping off his pants before siting down on the makeshift bed. He gave Neille a slow once over, eyes lingering on his cock. “Very nice.” His mouth curved upwards as he reclined. “Now what?”

Neville licked his lips. “Now we begin.”

Zabini’s cock was already erect, so Neville straddled him, clasping both their pricks with one hand. “Okay?” he asked as he stroked.

“Fine,” Zabini panted, looking up at him. An unreadable look crossed his face. “So this ritual doesn’t require...penetration?”

“Not necessarily.” Neville chewed his lower lip.

“Hmm,” Zabini hummed. “Pity.”

“You mean you want--” Neville narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”

“To get rid of this curse,” Zabini said. “Although I wouldn’t mind shagging you properly in the process.”

Neville smiled. “Far be it from me to argue,” he murmured, leaning down. Being careful not to touch the amulet, he snogged Zabini, exulting as Zabini responded passionately.

Arching upwards, Zabini clutched Neville’s shoulders, pressing close. His amulet touched Neville, who winced at the burning sensation it left behind. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” Zabini muttered, looking contrite as he pulled away.

“It’s fine,” Neville said, sliding his hands down over Zabini’s arms. “We just need to be careful.”

It was awkward manoeuvring around the amulet. As soon as things started to get heated, the bloody thing would be right there, sliding between them, and Neville got tired of having to watch where he put his hands. “How about hands and knees?” Zabini finally suggested after they’d flailed about a bit.

Neville pondered that. “It should work, just as long as you hold the amulet up so I can see it,” he said. He’d wanted to see Zabini’s face but having him facing away was probably for the best. “Can you do that?”

Zabini smiled tightly. “I’ll have to, won’t I?”

Neville shifted, allowing Zabini to turn over. “If we do break the curse, we can fuck face to face next time, right?” Zabini murmured as he tilted his arse in the air.

Next time? Neville smiled. “Works for me.”

Things went smoother without having to deal with the amulet between them. Zabini leaned on one elbow, and with his other hand he held up the amulet so Neville could clearly see it.

“Are you all right?” Neville asked.

Zabini nodded. “For now, but this position’s going to get really old if I have to hold it for any length of time. Get on with it.”

“Right.” With his thumbs, Neville bared Zabini’s hole, mouth watering. No time, he decided regretfully. A hastily cast Cleaning, Stretching, and Lubricating Charm left Zabini’s arse glistening and looser, and, after positioning himself, Neville thrust inside.

Zabini groaned, the arm that was holding up the amulet dropping. “Fuck, Longbottom,” he panted. “You feel fabulous.”

Neville tried to move as steadily as he could as he pumped in and out. “Hold up the amulet,” he said. “I need to see it.”

“Right, right,” Zabini gasped, his arm trembling with strain as he raised it again.

It took everything Neville had to keep up the rhythm of his fucking, while he reached around and grasped Zabini’s erection. “We need to come together,” he moaned.

“As in...at the...same time?” Zabini laughed breathily, his laugh morphing into a moan as Neville circled the tip of his cock with his thumb. “Fuck. Keep that up...and I’ll come...now.”

Neville’s hair was plastered to his face, he knew he was sweating, as was Zabini. Blinking sweat out of his eyes, he focussed on the amulet’s runes. “Disolvere copula!” he cried, his thrusts speeding up even as his pulls on Zabini’s prick did, too.

The amulet flared bright and Zabini hissed, dropping it.

Arching his back, Neville spilled into Zabini, his body thrumming with pleasure as he shuddered through his release. His hand sliding over Zabini’s cock had paused as his body had spasmed, but that didn’t seem to matter. Within seconds, he felt Zabini’s prick swell and then warm fluid was dribbling over his hand and arm.

They collapsed, a pile of sweaty, panting flesh.

After about a minute had passed, Neville raised his head. “How do you feel?”

Zabini groaned. “My one arm’s asleep,” he complained. “And my other feels like it’s on fire.”

“But your magic?” Neville persisted. “How does that feel?”

Zabini was silent for several seconds. “I feel...better,” he finally whispered.

“Try to do something,” Neville urged, sitting up.

Struggling to turn over, Zabini looked around the room, his eyes landing on a piece of parchment. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

The parchment floated into the air.

Zabini’s mouth dropped open. “I haven’t been able to do wandless magic since seventh year,” he said.

“Just one more test,” Neville said. Tentatively, he reached out and touched the amulet that was hanging about Zabini’s neck. It was cool to the touch, and, smiling, Neville stared into Zabini’s eyes. “It’s gone.”

“You’re sure?” Zabini asked, his expression full of hope.

At Neville’s nod, he grinned and, with a sharp movement, tugged the chain off his neck. “I need to destroy it,” he said, his voice thick as he looked down at the thing nestled in his palm.

“May I have it?” Neville asked. “I think the Unspeakables would like to take a look at that.”

Zabini nodded, handing it over. “Will you tell them where you got it?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.” Concentrating on the amulet, Neville smiled as it rose into the air, disappearing with a pop. “It’s in the Department of Mysteries now. Trust me, they won’t care who it came from.”

“Thank you.” Zabini was already looking better. Even his glamour hadn’t been able to hide the pain in his eyes, which Neville noted was now gone. “How can I ever repay you?”

Several inappropriate answers popped into Neville’s mind. “I’m just pleased I could help.”

Zabini smiled, shaking his head. “Gryffindors,” he said. “So noble.” Leaning forward, he clasped both Neville’s arms. “I’m serious. I’m willing to do anything you like.”

Neville mouth went dry at the promise in Zabini’s eyes. “How about we start with a date and take it from there?”

Zabini nodded. “Sounds good to me.” He glanced down at the naked bodies. “Then maybe we can pick up where we left off. Something tells me sex with you will be a lot more fun when we’re not trying to manoeuvre around a killer amulet.”

Neville laughed and, leaning in kissed him. He was gratified when Zabini responded. “I suppose only time and experimentation will tell.”

~