Act 0, Ch. III: The Queen of Swords

Queen of Swords: She embodies the instinct of self determination and the aspiration for freedom, with cold determination and ruthless efficiency. At her best, she is subtle, observant, witty, and graceful. Ill dignified, she is a woman of artifice, gossip, deceit, and malice; the intentional heartlessness that creates a distance that cannot be overcome.

After a delightfully lazy Saturday spent lounging in the sun room, Blaise was getting ready for bed. He was lost in thought as he absentmindedly brushed his teeth. He made good progress on the Augur's Guide that he found in Hesper Black's old room last week.

Turns out, he was already quite familiar with augury, despite never hearing that term before. Nonna often spent afternoons looking out the window with a cup of tea, commenting on the movements of the birds under her breath. She was never quite so ritualistic about it as the book though, which went into great detail about meanings of the hour of the day and the cardinal directions and the movement of the stars.

Maybe one day he would go through the full Roman ritual of taking the auspices, complete with the tent and the incense and the chanting. It seemed a bit excessive to him though. It was easy enough to tell the difference between an omen and spilled takeout drawing a flock, if you knew how to listen to your intuition at least. The rhyme Nonna taught him served him perfectly well.

One for sorrow, two for mirth. He spit his toothpaste out and rinsed his mouth.

Three for a funeral, and four for birth. Blaise splashed water on his face, looked in the mirror and rubbed his eyes tiredly. They were bloodshot from the hours spent reading, especially the past few after sundown in flickering candlelight.

Five for silver, six for gold. He dried his face and turned his attention to his hair. He didn't have the energy to do anything but give it a quick conditioning with argan oil.

Seven, for a secret not yet told. Blaise tied his silk durag on, being exceedingly careful to make sure his hair laid just right to be perfectly shaped when he woke up in the morning. Bedhead was harder to recover from with his hair texture. Theo was so lucky he could just shake his shag out and go. He didn't even comb it half the time and it still looked perfect, somehow pin straight and voluminous at the same time. That bastard.

Eight's for heaven, nine's for hell. He gave himself one last glance before nodding to himself and stepping out of the bathroom. Steam billowed out behind him, flooding the hallway with the scent of his sandalwood soap.

And ten is for the devil, his own damn-

Blaise was torn from his musings halfway across the hall to his bedroom by the floo roaring to life in Ma's tea parlor. It's already 10pm. This can't be a simple social call. He moved on instinct, flattened himself against the wall and crept towards the stairwell. He strained his ears to make out her voice through the crackle of the fire.

"-form you, Mrs. Gamp, but your husband was admitted to St Mungos earlier this evening after suffering a stroke. I'm terribly sorry to say that he did not make it."

Ma gasped, loud and sharp, forcefully emptying the room of all oxygen. He certainly couldn't get enough in his lungs as they seized up painfully.

"Why didn't anyone inform me he was hospitalized earlier?" She snapped back at the nurse.

"I'm sorry ma'am, we were occupied trying to stabilize his condition, and, well... it never did. He was only here for about half an hour before he passed." the nurse replied. There was an uncomfortably long pause after this. Blaise covered his mouth, desperately trying to regulate his breathing so she wouldn't hear him.

Ma took a deep, shaky breath before finally replying. "I see." Another long pause. Then... a sniffle? His brows furrowed at this. He never heard her sniffle before. She hated sniffling. She would conjure a tissue in front of his face every time he sniffled, without fail. She would say it made him sound like a pig snuffling about, and her house was not a barn so if he had any respect for her he should not treat it as such.

"Please excuse me," her voice cut through his sudden realization, "I need a moment to collect myself."

"Of course, ma'am, take your time. Please ask for healer Lawrence should you have any questions. My deepest condolences," she replied, before the floo connection sputtered and failed.

Blaise heard her footsteps thud softly across the plush rug. Then, the telltale clink of her tea set. He hazarded a quick peek, confident that she would be too distracted pouring to notice him.

She was seated at the head of the table, reaching across her plate to pick up the teapot. Her hands were perfectly steady as she poured herself a steaming mug. She turned her head slightly and he noticed that her cheeks were flushed. His eyes widened.

Blaise darted back behind the wall; leaning his head back, closing his eyes, and trying to collect his thoughts. Something was off here. He had seen her grieve before. He could never forget the way the blood drained from her face as her eyes scanned the parchment informing her of Pa's death. He could vividly see how the parchment shook in her trembling hands. Even through her closed door, despite the countless times he heard her blow her nose, he never once heard her sniffle.

She might be able to fool everyone else, but not him. He knew the only time her cheeks get rosy like that is when she is excited, or drunk. She might not be laughing, but he recognized the gleam in her eye was not from unshed tears. It was an exceptional performance, he noted in a detached haze, but it was just that. A performance.

His stomach lurched. The weight of what he just heard sunk in his gut like a brick. He carefully crept back to his room, determined to lay down and successfully feign sleep. He knew he wasn't nearly as good of an actor as his Ma, not yet at least. He couldn't look her in the eye and convincingly pretend like he didn't know what she was about to tell him.

To his vast relief, and great confusion, she never stopped by his room that night. Didn't even try to break the news to him until the next morning at breakfast. This small detail niggled in the back of his mind for weeks. Much like the cup of tea she took to Gamp's study. He couldn't explain how, but he was certain they were connected. Nonna always told him to listen to his gut, and he could hardly ignore how it was screaming at him.

The next day, Blaise returned to Hesper Black's old room, empty bag in tow. The last time he was here, he didn't look over everything thoroughly, expecting to have plenty of time to come back at his leisure. Now, he didn't have a clue how long they would stay here, and he was determined not to let these treasures waste away.

He was in the process of emptying the contents of her jewelry box into his bag when he heard the floorboard creak behind him. He whirled around to see Ma leaning against the doorway nonchalantly, arms crossed, smiling indulgently.

She strolled up to him and plucked a ruby necklace from his hands. "You've got fine taste, carino," she said as she held it under a ray of sunlight, inspecting the depth and clarity of the large stones.

Blaise shuffled his feet nervously, waiting for her to chastise him for his sticky fingers. To his surprise, she quietly joined him in pawing through the jewelry box. She looked up at him knowingly.

"Don't be shy on my account," she said with one scathingly raised eyebrow. He shuffled his feet nervously, trying to decipher the gleam in her eye.

"Did you know that this vent leads directly to the late lord's study?" She asked him, carefully noting how his eyes widened. "Yes, I found that out one day when I was strolling around, poking my head into these old rooms. You're not the only one who explores in their unsupervised free time, you know."

He gulped audibly. The corner of her mouth quirked upward, but she continued like she didn't notice. "The other day, I returned here and saw that the bookshelf was thoroughly picked over. You wouldn't have any idea how that happened, would you carino?"

Blaise froze. There was no lying to her, not convincingly, not when she was prompting him so specifically. He scratched the back of his hand absentmindedly while wondering how he could talk himself out of this one. He looked up at her sheepishly, emotionally preparing himself, only to be stunned back into silence. Her proud smile caught him off guard.

"You know, you scratch your hand when you're trying to hide something. You should learn to control that impulse if you plan to continue this little hobby of yours," she continued as if nothing was amiss. His brow furrowed. Was she...giving him advice?

"You're quite lucky, figlio. You've got spoils beyond my wildest dreams at your age, just sitting around, unclaimed, never to be missed," she said wistfully. "It took me decades to quietly collect the value of one of these little trinkets." She held a matching ruby ring up to the light, nodded satisfactorily and slipped it on her middle finger. It settled between her fading callouses. They were barely visible anymore, thanks to a year spent barely lifting a finger. And yet, the fact that they were still marginally there spoke to how deeply they were embedded in her hands.

"It's odd, adjusting to this opulence. I know, quite shocking considering how well it suits me," she said with a sly smirk, "but after our humble life, it still astounds me every day."

"The contents of this box alone could have kept us all fed for a lifetime," she said, a cold anger bubbling under her words. "And yet it sits here, forgotten, gathering dust in one of dozens of rooms in an empty palace." Her fingers twitched as they reached for the earrings. Blaise saw her jaw clench briefly before she consciously relaxed it.

"When I was your age, I used to wash Signora Maria's linens by hand, until my knuckles cracked and bled, just to save up enough for my first wand. After that, at least I didn't have to work my fingers to the bone, but I still had to hide my real abilities from those ungrateful swine that offered me a pittance for my services," she spat resentfully, eyes cold and distant.

"This little earring is worth more than a year of my efforts," she said as she put it on. "It could have bought a new cauldron, ingredients I didn't have to spend hours foraging or months cultivating, pretty little glass jars to package them professionally, maybe even a nice sign to hang on our door," she continued, lost in her musings.

"The whole set could have sent me to an apprenticeship in Rome. I could have been licensed. I could have worked for fellow wizards who could appreciate my talents. I wouldn't have had to lie through my teeth, to downplay my abilities so the muggles didn't get suspicious." She fastened the clasp and reached for the other.

"I could have told little Diana's mother that she would have died of blood loss without my clotting potions. I could have charged her accordingly, if she knew how dire her daughter's situation was. But no. I bandaged it, pretended like it was a run of the mill scrape and a simple cup of tea to calm her down, and accepted her pocket change that barely covered the potion. I didn't charge for my time, either the hours spent healing or years spent learning." Her hands shook as she finished putting the earrings on.

"Of course, I'd never let an innocent child die for money," she mused. She picked up the matching hair pins and began twisting her dark hair back into a simple french twist.

"But I began to wonder about the inverse. Would I suffer a guilty man to live?"

A heavy silence fell between them as she bent over to look at herself in the mirror inside the lid of the jewelry box, adjusting the short curls that fell out to frame her face. She nodded to herself, satisfied, before bringing herself up to her full height and squaring her shoulders.

She looked at him, her gaze equally sharp and fond. "My sacrifices were worth it, though, knowing that it's positioned you perfectly. You have opportunities I would kill for," she said, as if she hadn't already. Blaise gulped. She noticed, of course.

Ma gently grabbed his chin and tilted his face up to look at her. "Everything I have done is for us, tesoro, for you. You will never have to live in the shadows, scrounging for scraps like myself and all of our ancestors." Her deep brown eyes shone with unshed tears. Blaise wasn't sure who she was crying for.

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead tenderly. When she pulled away, her eyes held her usual steely resolve once again, glinting in the sunlight like the tip of a dagger.

"We come from a strong line, tesoro. You would do well to remember that here. The purebloods here have grown complacent, weak from generations of wealth handed down unearned. They waste what they don't hoard." His hands balled into fists. He shuddered at the vivid memory of the lean months after Pa died, counting change for flour and salt, of the undisguised pity and disgust in the cashier's eyes. Ma caught his eye and held it.

"We, however, remember hunger." Somehow, she knew. She always knew. He must get it from her, then.

"Our bones hold our history, our magic is stronger from years of surviving on our wiles. They don't know what's coming for them," She smiled, but it held no mirth. Only a predatory anticipation. He couldn't help but return her smile, too sharp for his young face.

She removed her hand from his chin, sliding it up his face to pat his cheek fondly. Her eyes and her smile softened. After one last lingering look, she withdrew her hand and stepped away.

She looked down and grabbed the silver and ruby necklace he had been holding before she came in.

"Help yourself to anything else you see in here, it's not to my liking," she said as she fastened it around her neck.

"You never know when you'll need to liquidate some funds away from the prying eyes of the authorities, after all." She grinned at him knowingly and winked.

He couldn't help but return her grin, eyes sparkling mischievously. She scanned his face, evidently pleased at what she saw. Something between them shifted. There was a certain camaraderie, an understanding hanging heavily between them.

"Thank you, Ma. For everything."

"Think nothing of it, tesoro," she replied. But he did. He thought about her calloused hands and Nonna's swollen joints and Pa's chapped lips from the salty sea winds. He felt their sacrifice on his shoulders and the plush carpet under his bare feet and the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes

"I'm going to make you proud, I promise," he replied, voice crackling around the lump in his throat.

Blaise found himself lingering behind his mother, wearing uncomfortably pinched shoes and pulling at his itchy new dress robes yet again. They were both in black this year, the traditional formal attire for those in mourning. This time, the invitation to the Malfoy's annual Yule Gala was addressed directly to her. She didn't need Gamp's name anymore to get her a ticket, he realized with a vindictive glee.

Lady Malfoy greeted them warmly in the foyer. She gave Ma a hug, pressing their cheeks together with a kiss, just like they did in Italy. Ma's eyes crinkled when she smiled.

"I'll find you once I'm finished greeting the guests, Adrianna," Lady Malfoy said. "I'd like to introduce you to someone." Blaise noted this interaction with a vague sense of trepidation he couldn't place. She patted his cheek affectionately before welcoming them into her manor.

Blaise looked around and tried to keep his mouth closed. She had really outdone herself this year. He appreciated the tasteful color scheme she favored, creamy chiffon, shining silver ornaments, floating fairy lights, and blue accents throughout. Much better than that garish red and green of Christmas.

He gratefully accepted a custard tart from a passing elf and scanned the room for his friends. He found Theo first, standing behind his grandfather with a blank, bored expression, fiddling with his cufflinks. Cantankerous Nott, that wanker, caught him fidgeting and pulled his ear sharply before turning back to his conversation like it was nothing. Theo deflated.

Blaise's lip curled in disgust involuntarily. He couldn't stand that man. Maybe Ma could give him the Zabini special while she's at it. He looked up at her from the corner of his eye. He was nearly at her shoulder now, but he still had to tilt his head slightly to see her face. She was scanning the room shrewdly, but he wasn't sure what she was looking for.

The soft glow of the fairy lights made her dark hair shine, perfectly accented by the silver and ruby pins holding it in a tight chignon. The matching set with the ruby earrings, necklace, and ring were quite striking, especially contrasting her black gown and hair.

Blaise finally spotted Draco clear across the ballroom, talking to some pug nosed girl in a pretty blue dress. He guessed she was about 12 like them, but her slight frame coupled with the puffed sleeves and empire waist made her look much younger. She had slanted eyes and a warm complexion, but she was pale to the point of being sallow, the usually warm undertones turned sickly green from lack of sun.

He shuddered. Blaise thanked his lucky stars that he got Pa's genes, so he was naturally dark enough that he'd never look quite so bleached out like her, no matter how many years he spent under this weak sun.

Draco lit up when he caught Blaise's eye, and waved frantically like Blaise wasn't already looking directly at him. He looked rather dashing in that elegant grey robe that matched his eyes, but the effect was offset by his goofy grin and over enthusiastic waving. Blaise held back an eye roll and smiled fondly at his friend. He was clearly bored out of his mind.

"Hey Draco," he said, "fancy seeing you here."

Draco scoffed. "Blaise, a delight as always."

The girl next to him turned and cleared her throat, looking at Draco expectantly.

"Ah, right." Draco rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Maybe one day he'd pick up his mother's hosting skills. Today was not that day. "Blaise, this is Pansy Parkinson. Pansy, this is Blaise Zabini."

"It is a pleasure meeting you, Pansy," he said with a bland smile.

She tucked her black hair behind her ear and sent him a sly smile. "Charmed, I'm sure."

He raised his eyebrows, his smile morphing into actual amusement. So she's got some bite to her, huh? Pansy had already stopped paying attention to them, scanning the room for someone too. Clearly, they weren't her first choice of company either. He caught Draco's eye and shared a sardonic little grin.

Blaise jerked his head towards Theo and asked "Wonder when the warden will release him?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Soon, I hope. I mean look at the poor sod, he can't stand still for this long without going mental. Do you suppose we need to plan a jailbreak?" he replied conspiratorially.

Blaise grimaced in solidarity at his friend's clear discomfort. Theo had many strengths, but standing still and being quiet were not among them. He also did not handle pressure well, and the weight of his grandfather's disapproving gaze was enough to make him wilt. He finally caught Theo's eye and saw some life returning to his face. There's the smile he loved so much.

Theo started sidling away from Cantankerous, banking on him being too distracted to notice and too obsessed with propriety to chase him down afterwards. He startled and froze, like a deer. Blaise followed his gaze to see his grandfather give him a withering glare before waving his hand dismissively. Theo's shoulders abruptly relaxed before he rushed to get away from him. Blaise let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding until it rushed out of him.

Theo bounded over to them with a bright smile. They didn't need to say a word to agree to run out to the grounds and get away from the stuffy adults and their silly little mind games. Why couldn't they just throw crab apples at each other? It's definitely a more sensible way to resolve conflicts than talking around the issue for hours and leaving confused. Well, maybe they didn't leave confused, but Blaise certainly did. For once, he just wanted to have fun with his friends and burn off some of this pent up energy that was buzzing through him

They returned a few hours later, windswept and rosy cheeked. The laughter died on his lips as his eyes were drawn to Ma, standing near the banquet table and speaking to Lady Malfoy and some old man: balding, pudgy, and ruddy. His stomach dropped. This must be the person Lady Malfoy mentioned when they came in. Someone she wanted to introduce. Someone she wanted to set up, more like it.

He glanced back and forth between them warily. Ma looked inordinately pleased. She lifted her champagne flute to take a delicate sip and Blaise could not help but notice she was not wearing a wedding ring tonight. Neither the one from Pa or from Gamp. She laughed at something the man said, a delicate little giggle nothing like her hearty chuckle when she was actually amused. He puffed up proudly. He was trying to impress her, Blaise noted with disdain.

Blaise sighed heavily. He could already see where this was going, and he was not looking forward to it. Draco followed Blaise's line of sight and pursed his lips, eyeing their mothers shrewdly. Theo turned towards him and narrowed his eyes at this, examining his face with an uncharacteristically sharp gaze. Blaise felt a wave of vertigo wash over him under his friend's scrutinizing green eyes, the same vertigo he felt standing at the edge of an old forest looking up at endlessly tall trees. He looked away before he wandered in too far and got lost. Even after all this time, Theo still surprised him.

"I don't know about you lads, but I'm parched!" Draco loudly announced before he grabbed Blaise's elbow and dragged him to the banquet table, Theo following right on their heels. Blaise rolled his eyes with no real irritation behind it. Draco may lack subtlety but he definitely got the job done. At least he knew exactly what the job entailed without a word. His methods may be a little rough around the edges, but hey, they're only 12. Plenty of time to refine that.

They casually sidled up to the punch bowl, Draco taking his sweet time ladling a glass for each of them. They strained their ears to pick out their voices over the din of the crowd.

"-extend my condolences once again, Adrianna, I do hate to see you so morose," that fat fuck said with a smarmy grin. Blaise's nose scrunched without his permission. He did not miss the brief glance Ma shared with Lady Malfoy at this. Theo nibbled on a cookie with painstaking care, shaving off one crumb at a time.

"Thank you, Hector, it has been quite a trying time but I believe he would want me to be happy," Ma demurred, really laying the charm on thick there. So they were already on a first name basis? Blaise tried not to gag, no one would ever believe it was caused by their elves' impeccable baking

"Yes, Lord Gamp loved nothing more than to see you smile. I am certain he would not begrudge you the simple joys of life for his sake," Lady Malfoy added. Yeah, right, he was well known for being selfless and thoughtful. Draco rolled his eyes and sipped his punch.

A mousy little man approached and tapped this wannabe corpse's shoulder. Hector shared a quick whisper and turned back to their mothers. "My apologies, ladies, but I must take my leave," he turned to Draco's mum. "Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Malfoy, you've truly outdone yourself this year."

Then, he turned his appraising gaze on Ma. Blaise ached to slap that leering smile off his face. "I do hope I could have the honor of bringing you that joy one day, Adrianna," he said, before taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. Right above the ruby ring she acquired from her second late husband. Ma smiled shyly and gave a non committal hum of agreement.

They pretended to be thoroughly engrossed in deciding between the cucumber and watercress or caprese sandwiches as he ambled off with his assistant. Obviously there was no actual competition in Blaise's humble Italian opinion, but nobody had to know that. In the kerfuffle he briefly lost the plot of their conversation.

"-course we will be celebrating the solstice privately this evening, as well." he caught the end of Ma's sentence and furrowed his brow. He hadn't heard anything about this. What was she planning?

Theo looked at him and tilted his head, questions dancing in his eyes. Draco raised his eyebrows. Blaise shrugged helplessly.

Lady Malfoy did not outwardly react, sipping her champagne nonchalantly while giving Ma an appraising once over. She seemed to understand more than she let on, if her only question was a single word.

"We?"

"Yes, I believe Blaise is ready to join me this year."

Lady Malfoy's eyes widened. Her brow furrowed. Even her jaw went slack. The silence stretched on. Blaise felt the weight of his friends' gaze but he could not make himself look away. Ready? Ready for what, exactly?

Ma cast a tempus. It was 11 something, but the second half was blocked by the back of someone's head.

"Hm. We should be going soon, I want to be prepared when the witching hour starts."

A small, but sharp, intake of breath was Lady Malfoy's only response. Blaise looked at Theo and Draco, but by the looks on their faces they didn't know what that meant any more than he did.

Ma smiled, slow and sharp. "Don't worry about me, Narcissa, I assure you I've got this under complete control."

"I've never doubted that, my dear." She glanced around furtively for any onlookers, but never thought to drop her gaze below shoulder level. Satisfied that no adults were looking in her direction, she turned back to Ma and dropped her voice down to the softest murmur possible without whispering. "Surely, Blaise is a bit young, though. I'd be happy to look after him here, if you wish. Draco would be happy to keep him entertained and of course the guest room is always open to him."

Ma's smile softened, but her eyes did not. "Thank you, Narcissa, that is very generous and thoughtful. I must decline though. I have full faith in my son. He is uncommonly familiar with them, despite his age."

Lady Malfoy looked hesitant, unsure. Blaise had never seen that look on her face. It did not suit her. She opened her mouth to say something else, then closed it with an audible clack.

Draco looked alarmed, to say the least. He looked between his mum and Blaise, eyes wide and jaw slack. Theo, oddly enough, was looking at Ma; eyes narrowed, head tilted, and biting the inside of his cheek.

"Thank you again, for having us, Narcissa. We always look forward-" Blaise stopped paying attention to their partings. It was clear nothing of note would be said when she returned to her normal volume.

He caught his friend's eyes and they backed away from the table without a word. They melted into the crowd, well out of sight, before quickly striding to a quiet alcove. Draco whirled around to face him, hands balled into fists unconsciously.

"What the fuck was that about, Blaise?" Draco asked incredulously. Blaise was startled by his vehemence. He took an involuntary step back, shrinking under Draco's ire. He never used profanity. Knowing Lord Malfoy, there's no wondering why.

"I've never seen my mother like that. Never, Blaise, do you hear me?" Draco advanced on him until they were nose to nose. "What kind of person are you celebrating with that could scare my mother?" His voice was steadily rising, a shaky edge of panic threatening to bubble over. "Who exactly are you familiar with, huh?" His stormy grey eyes searched Blaise's face frantically.

He was staring back at Draco rather blankly. Stunned. Blaise raised his hands, trying to placate his friend despite his anxiety crawling into his throat and strangling his attempts to speak

"I, uh,-"

"Back off, Draco," Theo grabbed Draco's shoulder and pushed him back, stepping between them. There was an unyielding firmness to Theo's voice that he'd never heard before. His friend was always so cheerful and goofy, unless he was around adults, and even then he was just quiet and polite. This was giving him whiplash. First Lady Malfoy, speechless and uncertain? Draco, swearing and fuming? And now Theo, Theo, harsh and forceful?

"Look at him!" Theo flung his arm out, gesturing back towards Blaise, pale despite his dark skin and breathless despite his inactivity.

"He clearly doesn't know either! And he's the one who's gotta find out first hand, so try to be supportive and stop freaking him out even more." Theo punctuated with one accusatory finger jabbing Draco's chest. "Whoever his mother is involved with, its clearly news to him."

Draco reeled back, sputtering. Theo advanced on him, looking down at Draco with a curled lip. Had he always been that tall?

"I don't know what rock you've been living under Malfoy, but all of our parents have questionable associates. You of all people should understand that it doesn't reflect on us, so watch your fucking tone," Theo continued, his green eyes sparking dangerously.

Draco at least had the good sense to be cowed. Hard not to be, when your usually easy going friend suddenly snapped. He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He looked back and forth at his friends, unsure whether Theo's anger or Blaise's panic was more uncomfortable to confront. So he looked down at his impeccable leather shoes instead. Theo nodded with a huff, confident that he got his point across.

"Sorry, Blaise..." he muttered, a blush taking over his cheeks. Draco stepped towards him, Theo graciously stepping out of his way. He put his hand on Blaise's shoulder in a clumsy but well meaning attempt at comfort. "Whoever it is, I'm sure they'll be on their best behavior around you. And if they're not.." he trailed off, uncomfortable with the implication and unwilling to finish that thought. He cleared his throat before speaking up again

"Well, you can always sneak back here, okay? My parents usually close the floo after a party like this, don't want anyone barging in because they forgot a scarf you see, but I'll reconnect it in the drawing room so you can come through, alright?" His words tumbled out, tripping over his growing concern.

Blaise nodded mutely. His anxiety still curled around his voice box in a vice.

"We'll be here for you if you need us, mate," Theo spoke gently, like he was approaching a startled animal. "I'll see you tomorrow for sure, even if I have to sneak over," he said with complete determination and disregard for the consequences.

"Yeah, me too!" Draco added enthusiastically. "You can tell us what happened tomorrow, right?"

Blaise hesitated. Ma fiercely guarded her personal business, even from him.

"Promise you'll tell us?" Draco whined.

Before he could answer, he felt an all too familiar hand land on his shoulder with heavy finality. He looked over his shoulder and was entirely unsurprised to see Ma, but completely confused about the sly smile playing on her face

"Come along, figlio, we will be taking our leave early. I am sure you will see your friends tomorrow," her eyes flickered away from his to his friends' shocked faces. His back stiffened. She definitely heard them. Guess that's where he got it from

He turned back to his friends and waved weakly. Theo managed to lock his emotions away with a surprising speed, but he couldn't completely hide the worried furrow of his brow with that pleasant, bland smile. "I'll see you tomorrow then, mate. Good night and Happy Yule, Mrs. Zabini."

"My name is still Mrs. Gamp, Theo." She replied with a bland, polite smile.

"You are Blaise's mother before you're anyone's wife, Mrs. Zabini," he said curtly.

Her smile fell as she gave him a sharp, assessing look. Her smile returned, her real smile, sharp and cold.

He gave her a small nod before dragging Draco away. Blaise watched them walk away with mounting trepidation, almost wishing he could join them. His curiosity always won out, though.

"Alright, Ma. Let's go."

Notes:

Pet Peeve: I hate when people make Blaise call his mom 'Madre'. Italians don't fucking say that. Most of em say Mamma (yes, all of them, regardless of age) but that simply isn't my style. As much as I would love to use her name, I'm committed to my unreliable narrator and he is very particular about showing respect via titles (Hence 'Lady Malfoy' vs 'that bald fuck Cantankerous'), so Ma is the perfect mix of love and distance.