"Mr. Potter, the meeting has started-"
"Could you please hold it for me? This is rather important," Harry told the secretary. She narrowed her eyes at Malcolm as if he had personally offended her.
She grumbled something about "Never on time" and Harry shrugged it off, directing Malcolm to the lift.
"Sunny disposition, that one," Malcolm commented sarcastically. Harry sighed in confirmation and pressed the button for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts level.
A few memos fluttered around the compartment and one started tapping Malcolm in the head. He swatted at it.
"I don't work here. Get off it," he muttered, frowning as the crumpled memo dejectedly joined its brethren again. Harry felt a smile tug at his lips.
"I remember when I didn't know magic existed," Harry said conversationally, looking at Malcolm swatting at memos out of the corner of his eye. "My parents are dead too. Died when I was a baby."
Malcolm looked over his shoulder with surprise.
"Really?"
"Yeah. I lived with my Aunt and Uncle. They are Muggles," he told him.
"So you know what a television is, then. Thank god. Could you by chance persuade Draco to put one in his living room? I'm missing my soaps," Malcolm said forlornly. Harry grimaced and laughed at the same time.
"Malfoy and I aren't on the best of terms. I think he'd take light that suggestion on fire and try to curse me," Harry raised his eyebrow.
"He's funny that way," Malcolm smiled. Harry nodded, amused and somewhat confused.
"He, erm, is okay with you being a Squib?"
"Not in the slightest. It doesn't help that he nearly jumped out of the window when we found out I am related to the Weasleys. I'm pretty awesome though, so he lets me borrow his clothes and eat his food. He's probably making up for all of that Death Muncher business by letting me annoy him all day long. You know- community service," Malcolm told him.
The lift rattled to a stop. Harry was suddenly very quiet as they walked down the hall. Something made a rattling noise in an office to their left and several wizards rushed past with their robes on fire shouting about combustible ink pens.
"You know, the only reason I'm taking you to meet Mr. Weasley is because you do sort of resemble his family. You even look a little bit like Bill in the face. I know about Fabian Prewett, too. He was in the Order of the Phoenix back in the day when Voldemort was first rising to power. Thing is though, I'm not confident enough to tell you anything for sure about Fabian. Arthur will be the man to talk to. After all, Fabian was Mrs. Weasley's brother," Harry told in a subdued manner. "He's probably going to ask you a lot of questions just to be sure you aren't messing around. I might have to send you to Hermione to see if she can help you out with the research."
"Well I'm glad I bumped into you," Malcolm sighed thankfully.
Harry nodded and knocked on an office door labeled A. Weasley.
"Come in!" they both heard Arthur shout.
Harry opened the door and Arthur looked up from the piles of paperwork on his desk. He saw Harry and gave him a welcome smile. Then he caught sight of Malcolm hovering over Harry's shoulder and he shot upward, knocking papers to the floor. The chair hit the opposite wall with a crash, sending a cascade of broken watches and nails tumbling to the floor from the shelf above his lamp.
"Good Lord! Fabian!" he choked out and tripped on a skateboard, sending it flying across the room.
Harry and Malcolm looked at each other.
"I don't think we will have much of an issue with research," Harry said. Malcolm shook his head in agreement.