3am came too soon for Harry; he had woken up groggy and tired, accidentally buttoning his shirt up wrong (which Malfoy had been quick to point out). They stood now with Weedy and another elf around the fireplace. Even Weedy yawned.
"They're late," said Malfoy, staring intently at the mantelpiece clock.
"It's a two minutes past," said Harry, "relax. Anyway, you still haven't told me who-"
As Harry spoke, the fireplace light up and the room flashed green. Harry jumped back as a tall shadow of a man stepped out, appearing to naturally deflect the ash and the flames. He brushed an invisible speck from his shoulder.
Harry's jaw slacked. "Blaise?"
Blaise Zabini's eyes snapped to Harry's and his hand made to move inside his suit jacket, but instead he tugged it slightly and stood up straighter.
"Draco," said Blaise, not looking away from Harry, "what is this?"
"Harry Potter," said Malfoy with a sigh.
"Yes, but what is he doing in your drawing room?"
"We'll explain when your mother's here – where is she?"
"She's on her way – I had a feeling she wasn't telling me something. And yours?"
"It's a long story."
"The Curse, I heard."
The fireplace lit up again, and this time a beautiful, willowy woman stepped out, lifting a tapered dress over the coal. "Oh, I hate floo," she said with a light laugh, "it gets everywhere." Mrs Zabini had Blaise's warm skin and almond eyes – they looked so alike Harry could have mistaken her for his sister.
She adjusted the shawl on her shoulders and beamed at the sight of Harry.
"Ah, Harry Potter, what a pleasure!" she exclaimed. In a few elegant strides, she stepped past Blaise and took Harry's hand in both of hers, sending a flush of warmth to his neck. "You know, I didn't believe the little elf – I had to see you with my own eyes! I'm a huge fan, Mr Potter."
"Ah." Harry swallowed loudly. Blaise, catching his eye, snorted.
"It's good to meet you, Mrs Zabini," Harry muttered.
"Please, call me Renée," said Mrs Zabini, shaking his hand enthusiastically. "Oh, I have so many questions! But we'll have plenty of time for that," she turned back to Malfoy and clapped her hands. "Now where's your dear mother?"
"She's in bed, I'm afraid. But she's hoping to speak to you before we leave."
"I'd hope so!" Mrs Zabini laughed again. "This is an awfully big favour, after all."
Malfoy nodded, and motioned to the fireplace. "Can I show you up?"
"That would be lovely!"
Harry shot Malfoy what he knew was a half panicked look.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Harry, if you could fill Blaise in while we're gone?"
"Sorry for not telling you, sweets," said Mrs Zabini, touching Blaise's face as she approached the fireplace again. "Only, I promised Narcissa I wouldn't tell a soul. But Harry Potter and the Malfoys! Isn't that a lovely surprise!"
Blaise nodded stiffly, and Mrs Zabini was gone – Malfoy right behind her – as quickly and gracefully as she had arrived.
As the silence settled, Blaise turned to look at Harry with a raised eyebrow.
"It definitely is a surprise," he said. "It's also awfully suspicious."
Harry only shrugged.
"If you're up to something, I don't care," said Blaise. "But I don't want my family dragged into it."
"I'm not here to spy on the Malfoys," said Harry, crossing his arms. "I owe Narcissa a debt, that's all."
"It must be a pretty big debt to associate yourself with Death Eaters."
"They're not Death Eaters anymore."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yes."
"Good." Blaise pulled up a wooden chair, sat down and crossed his legs. With a flick of his wand and wordless magic, he lit the fire, warming the room up instantly. "But that doesn't make them any less guilty. I think we're making a mistake."
Harry frowned. "I thought Malfoy was your friend?"
"Our mothers are friends. Or they were; we don't talk to Death Eaters."
"I told you -"
"Mother loves Narcissa," Blaise interrupted. "They were like sisters. If she's really cursed, she'll want to help.
"I lost my grandmother to it," he added.
"Oh. Sorry."
"You'll probably want to know, we're taking Malfoy – and you too, I suppose – to Portland. We know of another likely case there, a kid who's losing his magic. He's an excellent research subject; it's early stages so you'll have plenty of time."
Harry was taken aback. "I thought it would take a lot longer to find someone," he said.
"There are a couple of other cases too, we picked this one because we know the family. My mother knows everyone," Blaise ended bitterly.
"So, we're going right there?"
"No, we came tonight because we were told the Ministry would be routine inspection of the building tomorrow. I didn't get why that was an issue until I saw you. I'm guessing you don't exactly want to be seen here."
"Not really," Harry admitted. "So –"
"You're coming back with us, I believe, until we can arrange your trip to Portland. We've had a carriage sent, in case the Ministry are watching the floo network. It's all a ridiculous amount of effort just to get you out of a house. Everything makes much more sense now."
"We want them to believe-"
"You've been working on a research paper on the Curse, I know. I thought it was just Draco, though – a way to prove he's moving on from Dark Magic and Malfoy traditions, and maybe get him out of a trip to Azkaban. Why do you want in on it?"
Before Harry could answer, Weedy appeared between them with a loud pop.
"Sir and Sir, we have to hurry! It's the Ministry, Sirs. They're coming now."
"It's not even bloody 4am!" Blaise exclaimed. "Elf, get Potters things. We'll meet you upstairs."
"Yes sir!" said Weedy before vanishing again. Blaise sighed loudly as he stood up and snatched a handful of floo.
"You're a bloody hassle, Harry Potter."