There is an empty throne in the middle of the ballroom, illuminated only by a circle of flickering candles. Raised on a circular platform, the ornate wooden chair is carved to look as is it made of snakes intertangled on each other and the candlelight makes it look as if they are in continuous motion.  The Death Eaters enter, all of them masked and silent, wands light in front of them. It’s unspoken to give to the throne a wide berth. 