Theodore Nott leaned farther over the balcony, bells chiming softly as he shifted against the stone balustrade.

When the crowd knelt on command, Mattheo remained standing.

A roar rose through the hall.

Long live the Queen.

Draco bowed his head. Theo followed with considerably more flourish. Mattheo simply watched.

By afternoon, the ceremonial crowds were gone. The throne room felt enormous without them.

Draco stood immaculate in black, hands clasped behind his back. Theo rocked idly from heel to toe, bare chest crossed by dark leather and little silver bells. Mattheo stood beside them like a threat somebody had accidentally allowed indoors.

The great doors opened.

Footsteps approached the throne.

Draco bowed deeply. Theo swept into an extravagant bow beside him. Mattheo remained standing.

Three former Slytherins looked toward their new sovereign.

And waited to meet the Queen.