The Malfoy Manor gleamed beneath a wintry moon, its iron gates opening to receive a procession of carriages and floo arrivals. Inside, the ballroom glittered like a jewel box—crystal chandeliers casting their light over marble floors that reflected the slow, deliberate movements of the old families. The music was quiet, the conversations lower still. It was the kind of gathering where every glance was a statement and every word a negotiation.