Through the back and the scent lingering in the air, Moriarty recognized the woman's identity — his widow, Narcissa.
Now, Mrs. Malfoy had succeeded Lucius as the school's trustee.
She turned around gracefully; her skin was dazzlingly fair, and it was clear she knew her greatest advantage. She had deliberately chosen a white wizard's robe, which made her whole body seem to glow.
"Moriarty," Narcissa raised her noble, elegant neck slightly, her red lips parting lightly, "I invite you to be my dance partner. Will you agree?"
As she spoke, she tiptoed lightly and showed a rare smile. "The combination of the school administrator and the students will definitely shock everyone."
Moriarty didn't see her smiling face, only the subtle rise and fall of her chest. He laughed quietly to himself. There was one thing mature women could never compare to little witches: they were straightforward, without pretense or artifice.
Narcissa's straightforwardness made Moriarty less repulsed. He admired her beautiful, almost holy face, but smiled apologetically: "I'm glad to hear your invitation, Mrs. Malfoy. But I already have a dance partner."
Narcissa wasn't disheartened by the rejection.
No one knew how much courage it took for her to ask Moriarty out, to summon the determination to extend that invitation.
She had invited him on a whim, planning to borrow his reputation to bolster her own standing.
If she could parade Moriarty's arm on hers during the dance, all wizards would know the Malfoy family had powerful foreign support.
Even if rejected, at least she wouldn't feel guilty for taking advantage of Moriarty.
Relieved, Narcissa's unease shifted to deep curiosity. "May I ask, who is the lucky girl?"
"You know," Moriarty said, eyes drifting toward the black lake, now cold and still, its magical creatures hiding beneath the surface.
I know?
Narcissa's mood suddenly soured.
It reminded her of many years ago when she and her two sisters all desired the same evening gown.
But there was only one dress, and her eldest sister, Bellatrix Lestrange — then still Bellatrix Black — had snatched it away with determination.
Narcissa could only watch enviously as Bellatrix wore the most beautiful gown to the pure-blood party. Though Narcissa was also beautiful, she never captured Lucius's heart. But she would never forget how that felt.
To hide her irritation, Narcissa raised her right hand and lightly brushed her hair, feigning nonchalance. "It's a girl from the Piliwick family… um, you two will make a stunning pair."
"It's not Lilith," Moriarty said, glancing playfully at Narcissa, as if teasing her. "It's someone inextricably linked to you."
Not Lilith?
Narcissa's mood brightened, but the next words struck a nerve.
Defeated by someone linked to me?
She remembered how, years ago, she had coveted a box of French white chocolates but her second sister, Andromeda Black, got it first.
These things were common in Narcissa's youth. Though the noble little princess of the Black family, she often felt wronged.
This hadn't changed even after marrying into the Malfoy family, where she was mistress and could buy anything.
Now standing beside Moriarty, the sweet, sour feeling of childhood returned to her heart, carried on Hogwarts magic.
"I can't guess. Tell me~" Narcissa said angrily.
Moriarty looked at her, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Mrs. Malfoy, maybe you need a softener?"
Calm Mrs. Malfoy clenched her fists, raised and lowered them, her gaze intriguing, as if a thought struck her.
"You wouldn't… make up a girl just to reject me?"
She immediately regretted the sour tone. With her status and age, she shouldn't have spoken like that.
What would Moriarty think?
Sure enough, Moriarty circled Narcissa three times. When she grew tired and asked what he was doing, he stopped and said calmly, "I'm checking if you're being manipulated or if some wizard drank a potion and turned into you."
"What's the conclusion?" Narcissa asked, half-smiling. "Maybe you didn't see it. Why don't I prove it with my wand?"
"Your wand is still in my hand." Moriarty flipped his wrist, showing the silver and black-gold wand.
He poked the soft flesh around Narcissa's waist with the wand's tip. "Doesn't seem fake. What do you say, Mrs. Malfoy?"
Narcissa bit her lip and made no protest. "It's true, you…"
But Moriarty lost interest in talking, retracting his wand as he walked toward the castle without looking back. "See you at dinner, Mrs. Malfoy. By the way, you know my dance partner well. You're very familiar with her."
Her name is Tonks. Is she inextricably linked to you?
Narcissa stood motionless.
"Tonks…?"
"Nymphadora Tonks? The daughter of your second sister Andromeda…"
Narcissa realized Moriarty's dance partner was her niece. Her face paled; she tugged at her hair, smiling wryly.
The story from years ago was playing out again.
Moriarty knew nothing about this and wasn't interested in the old secret struggle between the three eldest Black sisters decades ago.
His life philosophy was wanton living.
He found Tonks in the Hufflepuff cafeteria.
"This aroma… almond?" Moriarty asked as he passed by.
Tonks was cooking, placing a small plate of green vegetables into a pot to boil.
Hearing him, Tonks looked up and smiled.
"You're here, little brother~ But you didn't come at a good time. Come back in two hours, then you can taste what I've cooked to celebrate our great victory."
Tonks smiled sweetly but looked exhausted; a drop of sweat slid down her temple.
Moriarty leaned in and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Tonks laughed happily.
"Gentle and considerate little brother — how many girls have fallen for this trick?
I heard the news, and all the girls ran to the Slytherin common room."
"Then why are you here?"
Moriarty pulled her to a nearby chair and rubbed her fingers. "This isn't the hand that cooks; it's the hand that holds a wand. Remember your dream, Nymph?"
Moriarty held her small hand and blushed quickly.
Tonks's expression turned solemn when talking about dreams.
"Of course I remember. Becoming an Auror is my holy dream — something I'd give my life for!"
Moriarty stared into her dark eyes, but Tonks quickly looked away, bowing shyly.
"But before I become an Auror, I want to cook for you. A delicious meal."
"Those things are for the house-elves. You should go back and prepare for our dance," Moriarty said softly, taking her hand.
"House-elves? No, no, no!" Tonks lifted her head.
"They can't make Chinese food. I made Chinese food for you.
They've never heard of almond bergamot. I know you like Chinese food, so I learned some recipes. If you—eh?"
She was about to say, "If you want Chinese food, come to the Hufflepuff cafeteria. Maybe the senior will cook a few dishes when in a good mood."
But Moriarty said, "Our dance?"
What did that mean? Could it be that…
Tonks's heart-shaped face suddenly resembled the hearts on poker cards. Moriarty couldn't resist wanting to touch her face.
She said incredulously, "What did you say, Moriarty? Our… dance? But I haven't invited you yet…"
"It's up to boys to say these things," Moriarty said, taking her hand and standing.
He lifted her chin gently. "Sister Nymph, may I invite you to be my dance partner?"