On the other side, Lucius had already turned his attention to Emma, his voice dropping to a quiet, deliberate tone as he leaned slightly closer. "I've heard… rumors," he said smoothly, "that Fleur Delacour and Lady White are… involved. I hope it's merely gossip. It would be… quite shameful for the matriarch of the White family to be entangled with a woman, wouldn't it?"
Emma's eyes flicked to him, sharp and unamused. "Rumors, Mr. Malfoy. We don't take every whisper seriously."
He waved a hand, a faint smile on his lips. "Of course. But still, it might be wise to… look around for a proper partner for Lady White. Especially among pure-blood families—there are so many fascinating, talented young men. Elegance, influence… all the qualities that a lady of her standing should consider. Since she is young, adults such as ourselves must… guide her choices, yes?"
Emma's tone cooled, but her words were precise. "Are you suggesting your own son, Mr. Malfoy?"
Lucius's smile widened slightly. "Why not? A union between our two families would be most… beneficial. My son is exceptional—talented, handsome, well-mannered. He would make a fitting consort for Lady White, I am sure."
Emma's expression remained unreadable. "I am merely an assistant to Lady White. I have no right to dictate her personal life or her… relationships. I serve. That is all."
"No, no," Lucius insisted, leaning back as if clarifying something obvious. "You have great influence, Mrs.Bloom. Lady White has entrusted you with the power of the family. You speak with authority, whether you realize it or not."
Emma shook her head firmly. "Authority or not, I am not the one to decide her choices. That is not mine to command."
From the side, Isabella, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke, her voice icy. "I don't believe we need your opinion in this matter, Lucius. And who are you to speak of what she wants—or likes?"
Lucius glanced at her, his smile tightening. "And… who, may I ask, are you to object?" His tone carried a faint attempt at condescension, though he knew exactly who she was.
Emma's voice cut in, calm but firm. "She is Lady White's biological aunt. If anyone has the right to speak as her guardian or adviser, it is Isabella."
Lucius's expression didn't falter, though he tried to smooth the moment. "I only seek what is… beneficial to the White family. A strong, advantageous union between our houses—surely that is in everyone's interest."
Emma's gaze was unyielding. "Beneficial for the family is not the same as controlling Lady White's choices. That is not your decision to make."
He inclined his head, still maintaining his polished composure, though the air between them was taut with tension. "Of course… of course. I only mean to guide, to ensure harmony between noble houses. Nothing more."
The air grew tense again when movement at the far side of the box drew eyes—Arthur Weasley had arrived with his wife Molly, their children crowding behind them in various states of awe and excitement. With them came Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Sirius Black himself, striding in with unbending pride.
Lucius's lip curled instantly, his voice slicing across the box like ice. "Well. And who allowed this rabble into a Ministerial box?"
Arthur stiffened but held his ground, voice calm yet firm. "Our tickets are as valid as yours, Lucius."
"Valid?" Lucius sneered, pale eyes narrowing to slits. "Tell me, Weasley—who did you have to beg this time to secure such favors? Or was it charity extended to the… needy?"
Ron bristled behind him, Ginny's fists clenched, and even Fred and George looked poised to launch themselves forward. Hermione pressed a hand against Harry's arm, eyes flashing indignantly.
Arthur's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, his temper flared. "I ought to—" he began, but stopped himself, breathing deeply. "I would beat the—"
Lucius laughed, a cold, disdainful sound. "Beat me? Do you threaten the great Lucius Malfoy in front of everyone? How… quaint."
Arthur's hands curled into fists, trembling with restrained fury. "I'm not afraid of you, Malfoy. Not here, not ever."
Lucius's lips curled into a cruel sneer as he shifted his gaze toward Hermione, then to Ginny. "And you—sitting there with your Muggle-born intellect—how far one can fall. Associating with muggles… truly a disgrace to the Weasley name."
The words landed like a slap. Ron's face flushed crimson; Ginny bit her lip to hold back a retort. Sirius stepped forward, voice dangerously low, eyes alight with fire. "Lucius, don't strut around like some pompous peacock. Everyone remembers how you grovelled at the feet of your master, the Dark Lord—doing his bidding without question, hiding behind his power like a coward. And now you walk among us as if you have any honor at all."
Lucius's pale face twitched, his composure cracking just slightly. "Careful, Black," he hissed silkily. "Your history with dark lords is hardly spotless either."
"Better a clean conscience than a coward who hides behind Ministry bribes and pretends his Mark never burned!" Sirius spat back, stepping closer, teeth bared.
Behind them, Harry chuckled quietly, unable to resist the irony, while Hermione's eyes never left Lucius, icy and unyielding.
Lucius's sneer deepened, venom lacing his tone as he turned to Mr.Weasley. "Ah, Arthur Weasley—forever the Ministry's charity case. How noble it must feel, seated among those who actually matter. Do you polish the Minister's boots as part of your salary, or is that done free of charge?"
Arthur's hands flexed into fists, but his voice remained steady. "Your arrogance will be your undoing, Malfoy. No amount of money or title changes that."
Sirius, sensing the crowd's gaze, added with a low growl: "Step carefully, Malfoy. You're not in the Ministry court now—you're in a place where people remember. People who won't forget your cowardice or your cruelty."
Lucius's pale blue eyes narrowed to ice, but he said nothing more, his usual haughty composure wavering under the combined fury of the Weasleys and Black. The air in the box was taut, every word a spark over a powder keg, as the rest of the spectators shifted uncomfortably, sensing the danger simmering just above civility.
Eira, Fleur, Isabella, and Emma sat quietly from their own side of the box, observing the volley of barbed words like a duel without wands. Fleur's grip on Eira's hand tightened again, her blue eyes flashing with annoyance as Narcissa gave a small, amused smile, as though finding the spectacle beneath her notice.
Sirius's voice rose once more, sharp with venom. "Better an honest man with little gold than a serpent who poisons all he touches. Remember that, Malfoy. We haven't forgotten what side you crawled on."