Harley stared impassively at the place where Voldemort had been buried. Black flames silently unfurled behind her.
Voldemort was still buried beneath dirt and rubble, without a hint of movement.
As for the Death Eaters, not one of those standing here could be called truly loyal.
The Death Eaters who had been closest to Voldemort were either still lying in Azkaban or had already gone to meet Merlin.
Though they hadn't said a word to each other, they had all reached the same unspoken understanding:
Whoever won, they'd immediately kneel to them! As long as they groveled before the victor, they wouldn't lose face!
Old Lucius Malfoy was even busy calculating:
"Draco and Harley Potter are in the same year, and Draco's a little older than her."
"In other words... Harley Potter is only fourteen, and she can already fight the Dark Lord?"
"Yikes..."
Lucius suddenly felt as if he'd discovered a whole new leg to cling to. Why grovel before the Dark Lord? Wouldn't it be better to grovel before Harley Potter?
Even if Harley Potter ended up on the back foot in this duel and couldn't beat the Dark Lord, judging by the strength she'd shown so far, she should at least have no trouble escaping.
And she was still so young. It was practically a foregone conclusion that she'd surpass the Dark Lord in the future.
Besides, Harley was the sole heir to the ancient Pure-blood House of Potter. Her godfather, Sirius Black, had no children, so the House of Black would certainly pass to Harley as well.
She was beautiful, powerful, and wealthy—and, more importantly, she had no parents or family to answer to... In Lucius's eyes, Harley Potter was an absolute catch.
A bold idea suddenly occurred to Lucius: why not have Draco woo Harley?