The air in Hogwarts shifted the moment they arrived.

Lucius Malfoy entered first—tall, 6'4", cloaked in silent power and a sleek black suit that looked tailored by dark magic itself. His platinum blond hair slicked back to perfection, and those icy grey eyes scanned the entrance hall like a king stepping into his own throne room. Cold. Sarcastic. Intimidating. The richest wizard alive, and he looked it—dripping wealth, status, and don’t-fucking-bother energy.

But then came her.

His woman.

A vision of contrast. Chic, elegant, and breathtaking in a long camel coat draped effortlessly over a black fitted dress that hugged every inch of her chubby hourglass body. Thigh-high black boots clicked with each graceful step, and her black handbag swung gently on her arm. Silky black hair cascading down her back, a playful glint in her eyes, her warm smile lighting up the hall like a spell no one could resist.

She wasn’t just beautiful—she was a phenomenon. Professors blinked. Students gawked. Even portraits paused their endless chattering just to catch another glimpse of her. Sweet, innocent, and disarmingly lively... and yet standing beside the most feared aristocrat in the wizarding world like she was born to calm his storm.

Draco stood a few paces away, trying not to smirk. Because yes—his stepmother was young, hot, and an absolute force. And yes, she and Lucius were the strangest, most terrifying power couple Hogwarts had ever seen. But Merlin help him—he liked her. She wasn’t just the calm to Lucius’ rage; she was the only one who could make the Malfoy patriarch unclench his jaw with a single look.

Lucius barely glanced at the gaping crowd as he swept forward, voice cold as ever. "My son did what?"

*But his hand slid behind her back subtly, grounding himself in her warmth. Because where he was ice—she was fire.