The last golden rays of sunset spilled through the towering spires and intricate carved windows of Malfoy Manor, painting the grand hall in shifting patterns of light and shadow.
At the centre of the room stood a long rectangular table covered in crisp white linen, its edges gleaming with silver cutlery and sparkling crystal. Soft music floated through the air as the final guest—Cornelius Fudge, the soon-to-be Minister for Magic—swept in with a flourish. The birthday banquet had officially begun.
Estelle wore a deep-green tulle dress scattered with tiny black roses. Narcissa had spent nearly an hour coaxing her long silver curls into elegant waves that cascaded down her back. A breathtaking emerald necklace rested against her pale throat, catching every flicker of candlelight.
Thanks to the Warming Charms Lucius had cast throughout the castle, the little girl felt perfectly warm despite the single layer of delicate fabric. Still, the curious, appraising glances from the guests made her shift uncomfortably.
"Don't be afraid," Draco murmured, stepping a little closer. Though he was only a small boy himself, he angled his body to shield her from at least half the stares. He gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "I'm right here."
His usual messy platinum fringe had been slicked back with pomade for the occasion, making him look unusually polished. Estelle blinked up at him, dazed. *Brother looks like a glowing lightbulb today.*
"Is that the Belling heir?" a woman nearby whispered. "She can't be more than five or six—absolutely beautiful."
"The Malfoys threw this whole banquet for her. Her identity is obvious."
"Her father was Brian Belling, wasn't he?"
"Yes, but the Bellings have always gone to Durmstrang. Most of us from Hogwarts barely know the family. I only met Brian once."
"What was he like?"
"Sharp as a blade—an incredible investor, just like his father. Still… strange that he'd hand his little girl over to the Malfoys and name Lucius her godfather."
"Business trouble, maybe?"
"If that were true, he wouldn't be parading her in public. The Bellings have always stayed hidden. Not even You-Know-Who could touch them. Something must have happened inside that manor."
"Bankruptcy?"
A low chuckle. "Please. The Parkinsons could go broke tomorrow and the Bellings would still be richer than half of wizarding Britain. And if they really were ruined, why would Lucius Malfoy suddenly turn charitable?"
"Exactly. Lucius never does anything without a reason."
"Look at young Malfoy and that pretty little thing standing together. They'd make quite the pair, wouldn't they?"
"Marriage alliance?"
"Wouldn't surprise me…"
The murmurs rippled through the crowd.
When someone mentioned "Parkinson" and "bankruptcy" in the same breath, the short, stout man beside the speaker scowled. His daughter—Pansy Parkinson, with her short dark hair and sharp little face—wore the exact same expression. She hadn't caught the insult to her family; her eyes were locked on Draco.
He had always been polite to her before. Today he hadn't spared her a single glance. Instead he was fussing over that silver-haired stranger who had appeared out of nowhere. Fury simmered in Pansy's chest as she stared unblinkingly at Estelle.
Estelle felt the glare like a physical shove. She took a tiny step back and tugged the hem of Draco's jacket. "Brother…"
Draco followed her gaze and frowned. *What's got into Pansy?* When she waved excitedly the moment he looked over, he simply turned back to Estelle and leaned close. "That's Pansy. She used to visit with Blaise, Daphne, and the others."
"Blaise? Daphne?" Estelle's curiosity instantly overrode her nerves. She tilted her head.
Draco smiled. "I'll introduce you later."
"Okay." Her eyes curved into happy little crescents.
Seeing that sweet expression, Draco automatically lifted his hand to ruffle her hair—then froze when Narcissa shot him a warning glare across the room. *Not today, young man. I spent an hour on those curls.*
He dropped his hand with a silent sigh, already planning how thoroughly he would mess up her hair the second the banquet ended.
A round of applause rang out. The music stopped.
Every head turned toward the centre of the hall where Lucius Malfoy stood, silver snake-headed cane in one hand, the other gently holding Estelle's small fingers. His long platinum hair flowed down his back like liquid moonlight.
"Everyone," Lucius began. His voice wasn't loud, yet it carried the natural authority of old pure-blood aristocracy. Even Estelle, who had felt strangely off-balance all day, looked up at his sharp profile.
"I suspect many of you have already guessed that tonight's guest of honour is not a Malfoy." Lucius glanced down at the tiny girl beside him, the corner of his mouth softening in a rare, unconscious smile. "This young lady is Estelle Belling."
"At the request of her late father, Brian Belling, Estelle will live at Malfoy Manor as my god-daughter."
A ripple of surprise and speculation swept the room. The whispers grew louder.
"So it's true…"
"God-daughter? That practically screams marriage alliance…"
"What are the Malfoys and Bellings really planning? This feels bigger than a simple betrothal."
"Will the little Belling attend Hogwarts with young Malfoy?"
"Where is Brian anyway—entrusting his only heir to outsiders?"
"The Bellings have always been ghosts. Give it a few years and we'll probably hear they've swallowed another wizarding fortune. Best to stay on their good side."
"I thought Lucius favoured the Parkinson girl…"
"Clearly the Bellings are a far better match than the Parkinsons or Greengrasses."
Estelle stood stiffly beside Lucius, feeling every curious, calculating stare like invisible threads pulling at her dress. Among them burned Pansy Parkinson's furious glare.
The little girl who had never faced so many strangers in her life could only steady herself by looking at her favourite person—her shiny platinum brother.
But when her eyes landed on him, she blinked in confusion.
Draco's ears had gone bright red.
*Marriage alliance… marriage alliance…* the words kept looping through his mind.