The red carpet outside the Odeon Luxe Leicester Square was a river of light and sequins. Paparazzi lined the steel barriers, lenses like a thousand unblinking eyes all aimed at one point.

You stood at the epicenter.

Across the square, tucked in the shadow of a marble column near a side entrance, a man stood perfectly still. The chaotic light didn't touch him. He wore expensive, understated black wool, not a sequin in sight. His blond hair was perfectly combed, his expression unreadable.

Draco Malfoy watched you ascend the steps, a queen holding court without ever looking back.