In the restaurant, Moriarty and his party sat in their usual positions, gathered around the table, eating in complete silence.
Even Tonks, who usually reveled in every bite of her meals, was unusually quiet, merely dragging her fork through the Montreal-style bacon on her plate with a distracted expression.
Moriarty, despite being the center of attention, felt a rare tension. He had faced duels, dark wizards, and even political conspiracies, but nothing compared to this quiet, high-pressure meal with seven formidable witches seated around him.
The table was cloaked in an invisible cloud of rivalry. Only the clinking of cutlery against china disturbed the silence.
Any other noise—barely there—came from Tonks and Gemma shifting now and then.
Lilith remained expressionless.
Diana wore her signature half-smile, veiling her amusement behind centuries of experience.
Mrs. Malfoy fixated on her plate, cutting each piece with practiced grace, eating slowly.
Fleur had a coldness about her, her face set in frost, eyes narrowed in thought.
Penelope glanced at each of the older women nervously. She shrank in her seat, poking at her meat pie with a sense of resignation.
Five girls and two powerful women, each exuding their own brand of charm and poise, were drawing the attention of nearly every man in the restaurant.
Even Moriarty himself felt the weight of scrutiny. Several of the wizards dining nearby looked his way with envy, admiration, or outright hostility.
The tense calm shattered when Fleur suddenly declared coldly, "I believe it's time we talked."
"You want to talk?" Moriarty raised an eyebrow, thinking Fleur was speaking to him. "About what?"
To his surprise, Diana set her knife and fork down, eyes flicking toward Narcissa. "I agree."
Narcissa finished the last piece of her BC salmon, dabbed at her lips with her napkin, and nodded. "Alright."
Tonks, still chewing on her crème tower, wiped the cream from the corner of her lips and said mildly, "It's overdue."
Penelope and Gemma shared a glance and nodded too.
Moriarty blinked, confused. But then, in one synchronized movement, the six women stood, as if part of a silent agreement, casting meaningful glances at one another.
"To Moriarty's room then," Narcissa suggested coolly. "No sense talking in public."
They all glanced accusingly at Moriarty—who hadn't said a word—and turned to leave the table.
Only Lilith remained seated, stabbing a fork into her poutine with surgical precision.
"I'm not joining you," she said flatly, chewing methodically.
A queen does not debate her claim to a throne.
The other girls didn't bother arguing. If Lilith wanted to stay behind, fine. One less rival.
Tonks was the first to reach Moriarty. She wrapped her arm around his right, leaning in slightly so that her chest pressed against him. Moriarty stiffened.
"Come along," she said with a pout. "You're not escaping this one."
Not to be outdone, Fleur took his left arm, claiming her territory with a cool smirk. Tonks's face twitched, and her eyes narrowed at the Veela.
Lilith let out a short, amused exhale.
The two girls, however, remembered they had bigger fish to fry and yanked Moriarty up together, dragging him out of the restaurant.
Diana and Narcissa exchanged glances. The air around them seemed to tremble with quiet power as they walked with practiced elegance.
Their heels clicked on the floor rhythmically, echoing like spells cast in sync.
The entire restaurant fell quiet, patrons captivated by the beauty and authority the two witches radiated.
Of the seven women, only Diana and Narcissa had the unmistakable aura of maturity.
Diana, dressed in a white robe, moved with the serenity of a guardian spirit—elegant and unreachable. She exuded the sacred power of her elven heritage, even if most around her didn't understand it.
Narcissa, in a tailored black coat, carried herself with aristocratic dignity, her sorrow-wreathed strength exuding the resilience of a woman who had loved, lost, and emerged more dangerous than before.
Between the two, there was no easy comparison.
The gazes of the male diners followed them obsessively.
Penelope and Gemma, watching their departure, felt something tighten in their chests.
Fleur had her Veela charm and poise, Tonks her passion and unpredictability, Diana her sacred ethereal grace, and Narcissa her formidable elegance.
What could two Hogwarts girls offer that would hold Moriarty's interest?
Lilith snapped them out of their thoughts with a scoff.
"Why are you staring like that?"
Penelope and Gemma looked up at her.
Lilith stood, brushing off her robes and turning in the opposite direction.
"If you don't hold onto your confidence," she said lightly, "you've already lost the war."
The two girls hesitated, but then exchanged a glance of newfound resolve and took off after Moriarty.
Meanwhile, Lilith wandered out of the restaurant, planning to explore Hyprosae.
She didn't notice the short figure who shadowed her every step.
Lilith's thoughts were consumed by Moriarty. She couldn't share him—she wouldn't.
A sea breeze tousled her golden hair. She ran her fingers through it, revealing a brief, genuine smile.
That smile—soft, rare, radiant—lit up her pale features.
The small man watching her grinned with intent.
He approached and bowed with exaggerated elegance.
"Enchanting lady," he said in broken English. "I am Tsukamura Kogoro, from Shimotsuka Village. After the final, there shall be a grand ball. May I invite you to be my partner?"
"Tsukamura… Kogoro?"
Lilith's tone turned skeptical. A native from the East.
Wasn't he Moriarty's upcoming opponent?
Her gaze turned cold.
This man was nothing to her.
But Kogoro, mistaking her pause for interest, beamed creepily.
Lilith studied him like a rat under a microscope.
His eyes flickered with twisted desire.
For a moment, she considered hexing him on the spot.
But instead, she delivered a single word: "Boring."
With a final sneer, Lilith turned away and walked toward the commercial district, her figure elegant and unbothered.
Kogoro glared after her.
"Arrogant brat…" he muttered darkly. "You'll regret humiliating me…"
"Tsukamura!" a voice barked behind him.
Kogoro turned sharply to see the Japanese team's appointed mage. "Sir!"
"You've eaten. Return. Don't forget—the final is tomorrow. And the Boss expects results."
Hearing the word "Boss", Kogoro snapped to attention and bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the ground.
"Yes, sir! I'm at your command!"
The mage nodded in approval and turned.
Kogoro followed obediently, though inside, he fumed with frustration.
"I'll make that British witch regret rejecting me. The dance will be her downfall."
Meanwhile, in Moriarty's hotel suite…
The six girls had taken over his bed—soft, massive, and perfectly circular.
Diana flushed as she sat. This was the bed—that bed.
She prayed Narcissa couldn't detect anything incriminating.
Unfortunately for her, Narcissa's nose twitched.
She smelled it.
Tonks did too.
Both of them, inwardly, came to the same question: Who was here with Moriarty last night?
Diana feigned ignorance and looked away.
Penelope and Gemma, still newcomers, were overlooked.
The suspicion turned to Fleur.
"What are you looking at me for?" Fleur rolled her eyes. "Jealous? I know my allure is hard to resist."
"Right," Tonks said sarcastically, arms crossed. "You called for this 'talk.' So talk."
"Fine!" Fleur tossed her hair. "Let's."
"Oh, please," Narcissa interjected with a smirk. "You called us here and don't even know what to discuss?"
"I made a suggestion," Fleur shot back. "You all agreed to come, didn't you? So I assumed you had something intelligent to say."
Gemma sighed. Moriarty sat there, frozen like a statue.
Penelope jumped in, sensing a potential disaster. "Why don't we play poker?"
"Poker?" Tonks blinked. "You mean Muggle cards?"
Narcissa's nose wrinkled. "Why would I sully my dignity with a Muggle pub game? I play wizard chess."
"I think it's a good idea," Fleur said, shooting a sideways look at Narcissa. "Let's play and talk."
"Alright," Penelope agreed brightly. "It'll be fun!"
Gemma nodded too. "We can teach you, Lady Malfoy."
"If you're not playing," Fleur said sweetly, "you're welcome to leave."
Narcissa's eyes narrowed dangerously. Fleur smiled triumphantly.
Tonks, ever the diplomat, offered a truce. "Stay, Aunt Cissy. I'll help you learn."
Narcissa relented, though she sent Moriarty a death glare. This was his fault!
Then Fleur looked at Diana. "Professor, will you be joining us? Or is poker too lowly for an elf queen?"
Diana ignored the jab and turned her eyes on Penelope. A shadow of respect crossed her expression.
Perhaps she's the real threat.
With a seductive smile, Diana said, "If we're playing poker, let's make it interesting."
She paused.
"Strip poker, anyone?"
A heavy silence fell across the room.
Then a gleam passed between the girls.
"Agreed," they all said.
Moriarty blinked.
Wait what?
Did they just say?
Oh. Oh no.