Chapter 34
Draco had thought himself skilled at tailoring, until he visited the castle and saw what the elites wore. He had examined his own professionally made suit and admired the precise cut and stitch work and understood he could not compete. Courtiers like Colton who could hire the best tailors and seamstresses would always outshine any attempt Draco made to match their style. So he didn’t bother to compete. He sought his inspiration elsewhere.
The Grimmauld Place library was eclectic and extensive. Draco had discovered tomes on fashion over the past centuries. That was how he found it - a style two centuries old that would be ridiculous on any other night or on any person with a shred of self doubt. Draco didn’t trifle with things like self doubt.
He chose black to be the backdrop of his canvas. Instead of the modern form-fitted breeches that would go to the knee, these were short, going only to Draco’s mid thigh. They puffed up, revealing the slashed folds that opened to pleats of silver, creating a visual effect most striking when Draco was in motion. The shorter breeches elongated Draco’s legs, now tightly constrained with black hose that was secured by lace to Draco’s undershirt and a specially fitted corset. A silver embroidered doublet fit firmly across his chest, or at least across the padding he added to slightly shift his shape, but the sleeves were fuller than any modern design and puffed out for effect. He’d added slashes to it again for peeks of silver. The traditional approach would be to add a ruff collar, but Draco did that before so today he went with lace, which added a delicate touch to the ensemble. It was a classic silhouette that would be recognized from any history book, even as the details would obstruct recognition of Draco’s own body shape. It was also the details that set it apart.
There was nothing traditional about the embroidered design. A month ago Draco realized he simply lacked the skill to do it himself, and did the unthinkable of asking his mother to help. She understood without him saying that this was secret and she worked on it only in her own bed chamber until it was complete. It turned out magnificent. Draco had created the design from a diagram of the book, which modeled precisely how to use a sextant for celestial navigation. He added small details, like a silver chain with a large silver star broach at the end, and a silver cord wrapped around his waist.
The detail that mattered most was far from small. Draco had found a short, decorative cape designed to be worn with just such a suit indoors, and reconfigured it for his purposes. Weeks ago he’d finished sewing the outfit, and since then he’d dedicated himself fully to adding the fine details across this cape. It had been made from two pieces of cloth sewn together, which meant Draco could deconstruct it and embroider both sides before reassembling it. This doubled his work, but allowed him to tackle the underside first, which would be less visible to the masses and be more forgiving of his mistakes as he continued to refine his skill. His fingers had ached for weeks but he hadn’t given up. The results were worth it. He stood in front of everyone draped in star charts so accurate that Draco could lay down his cape and match it to the night sky above.
The entire design was topped by the final celestial mask. The frame of the mask was unembellished silver and spread across the top half of Draco’s face, covering his most distinctive features. It was framed with intricate details and at the top stars were artfully arranged along the brow. Wire strands arching up from the mask to hang stars up and beyond the wearer’s head to create a haloing effect. Draco had artfully colored parts of his hair with black ink, so the strands shifted from black to a diluted version of his natural platinum blonde. Draco thought the entire outfit created an optical illusion, making his lighter hair look silver. He’d fluffed up his hair and held it in place with pomade so it would keep a defined, wavy shape.
Such commitment to not only the theme, but also to creating something completely new from it, gained Draco social authority to the point that even here, among the social elite, no one dared contradict his command. He could see some wanted to, since the information on the invitation held such great value, but Draco held their skeptical stares and did not falter under the weight of their appraisal. He lifted his chin defiantly at the room until everyone gave in.
“That’s the most fair approach,” the astrolabe said, breaking a tension in the room.
Draco smirked, recognizing then there were truly two factions. Each was led by a navigator of their own. It thrilled him to understand his competition. Hermoine was the most brilliant courtier of their generation and there was no one he’d rather face off against.
The group broke apart into pieces. One left to pick up people from the gallery. A line followed Mars to the stamp. Draco unwittingly started a clique near the alcohol table as he went back for yet another drink. His head was fuzzy but his body was warm and he giggled frequently at Aergia’s dark humor, even when he didn’t actually think it funny.
Mars brought the Place of Arms invitation to Draco, who had to pretend his vision wasn’t blurry while he read it. He found he suddenly had a crowd around him as he pondered the words aloud, wondering which was the key clue. It was unnerving, and Draco worried counter productive, but when he looked up at the broader room he saw a rival clique scheming and realized the people around him had picked their side.
It was madness. They would never follow Draco Malfoy. Tonight, though, he need not be Draco. He was the navigator and he had yet to lead anyone astray.
Draco made a point of saying that it was Mars who was the cleverest, since she is the one who found the painting and was so thoughtful as to hunt down a quill and ink and make two copies of the invitation in case anyone forgot the words. Mars smirked at him, aware of what he was doing, but she also accepted the attention of the crowd around them as if it were her due. The final group arrived then, to see Mars basking in the limelight as if she were the leader of their team.
Draco was able to back away from the huddle, Aergia following. The older man glanced over to the new arrivals, considering them for only a beat. Then he turned to Draco with that charming grin he had perfected. Aergia wrapped an arm around Draco’s shoulder and leaned close to whisper, “You’re actually the cleverest one, aren’t you?”
Draco was thankful his mask hid most of his blush, but he was certain it could be seen running up the sides of his neck. He bit his lip bashfully, glancing over at Aergia, who did not pull away to give him room. Their noses were nearly brushing against each other. Draco gasped at the unexpected proximity and immediately turned away. Aergia’s actions were too forward for his comfort and he strained to balance embracing the moment with putting space between himself and the other man. He caught sight of the newcomers, hovering between everyone. If it was possible, Draco’s heart beat even faster.
Two people were staring. Not at Draco, but at the man holding him. Draco recognized one instantly. He dressed as a helmeted horseman, with the barest of visors obscuring his face. He dressed as a modest soldier with the only heavy armor being a breastplate with a dokana etched into it. A symbol representing twinhood. One half of the gemini constellation, just as George promised. The other man could have been anyone buff and scrappy enough to pull off such basic attire. He was dressed as a sailor, with striped shirt covered by a seaman’s top coat, with bell-bottomed trousers down to his calves. He wore a blue neckerchief wrapped around his throat, and a second, lighter one around his eyes and forehead to create a mask, tied back behind his head. The twin’s eyes sparkled at the older Weasley, whereas the other man wore a deep frown. Draco turned his back on them both before he could catch their attention. In doing so he stepped away from Aergia without acknowledging his words.
Draco hid from everyone in a corner of the room, trying to sober enough to make sense of the clue Mars had transcribed for him. Most of it was the same poorly written drabble, but a few lines stood out. Phrases like, “Outsiders were not admitted, but tonight we claim the castle as our own“ and “assembled together we will make this an equinox to remember.” Peculiar words not seen in other invitations.
Draco was still pondering when Mars grabbed hold of his arm and tugged him towards the door. The time had come. Twenty-one courtiers were assembled to present themselves to the guard and gain access to the place of arms.
Of course, Draco knew this place. He knew all the places. This one was particularly repugnant in his memories. In the war, right before the first battle they’d decisively lost, Lucius had taken Draco to examine all the soldiers who would defend their kingdom. The place of arms was meant to hold the soldiers assembled to defend the castle or march out to the lands beyond. The castle was meant to be impenetrable, but that hadn’t gone well. By the end of the war Narcissa and Draco had fled the castle before it could be overrun.
The transformation the place of arms underwent tonight taunted those memories. What Draco remembered as a place housing men that would soon become corpses had been transformed to resemble a ballroom in and of itself. This was the first spot outside the main ballroom that presented a feast. Long rows of tables had been laid out, piled with food, where rows of soldiers had once stood preparing to die.
Draco closed his eyes and breathed. It was harder to let go of the past when the equinox ball shoved it in his face, but perhaps this was his chance to move beyond it. Draco didn’t give himself time to reminisce about what was. He charged straight for a table and tore into the food. After all, he hadn’t had a chance to eat before jumping into the puzzle and he’d had plenty of alcohol. The food was savory and delicious, made to be devoured. Draco feverishly ate it, trying to consume better memories.
Not everyone followed, some immediately started to explore the large chamber for clues, but most joined Draco in his respite. The twenty-one they brought didn’t begin to fill the space, but it did make it feel more like a party than just Draco and Aergia in the library. He smiled to think it had been deliberate on the part of the king, to break up the rivalry in this manner.
Still, it was Mars and Aergia who sat on either side of Draco. He smiled again, this time from the comfort of having formed so tight a team.
“What are you thinking?” Mars leaned over and asked.
Draco laid out the transcription on the table between them. “I think there’s only two rooms left, Chapel or Observatory. That doesn’t get us the clue, though.”
Aergia made a thoughtful noise. “If it’s chapel, we don’t have a way in,” he pointed out.
“We don’t even know how many people can get in,” Mars added.
Draco bit into a chicken leg to buy time. He glanced around at the partiers, some watching the trio scheme. Draco chewed thoughtfully before he spoke. “Aergia, if you really want to win this, we need you to go make us friends.”
Aergia laughed heartily. “Really?” he asked.
“You’re a flirt and it works,” Mars agreed. “Use your powers for good. Or,at least, use your powers for our mutual benefit.”
Aergia scoffed, looking like he might argue, but Draco leaned into it. “You’re absolutely a flirt,” Draco said solemnly. Aergia scoffed again but leaned back in his seat without complaint. Draco licked his lips nervously from nerves, contemplating how to convince the man. There was a way he was sure would work, if he was bold enough to try. Tonight was a night for boldness. He leaned over towards Aergia and whispered so Mars wouldn’t be able to hear. “If you truly mean to flirt with me, you should know I find competence extremely sexy. Go get us transport to the chapel.”
This time it was Aergia who blushed, before turning smoldering eyes to Draco. Draco felt the heat all the way down to his toes. He wasn’t sure he liked the man, but it was unquestionable that Aergia had an effect. Aergia gruffly said, “best get us that stamp” before getting to his feet and setting off on his mission.
“What did you say?” Mars demanded to know what had compelled her brother to action.
Draco’s smile was for himself alone. “Encouragement,” he answered vaguely. Then he tapped on the transcript again. “Time to see which of us is truly the cleverest. Are you ready to solve a puzzle?”