Celestial Being

Draco didn’t actually tell George everything. Mostly, he told him just enough. Like, yes, alright, Draco had intentionally disguised himself at the spring equinox ball. And the fall equinox ball. And the other fall equinox ball. And, by the way George, it wasn’t very nice when you called Draco a drunk just because Draco had gotten himself too drunk to use machinery and also cheated at King Harry’s puzzle game just a little. Which led to a brief rabbit hole where George demanded to know how Draco got two invitations anyway. Followed by George thinking Draco had told Percy his secret first, which for some reason George was offended by, but not as offended as Draco’s instance Percy wouldn’t remotely care if he had known.

Draco didn’t actually tell George everything about the king. He hardly said anything. Somehow he summed the whole experience up with a glib statement. “I wasn’t actually going to sleep with him, but then he was rather keen on me.” Draco wanted it to come out haughty and aloof, but probably it just sounded dejected.

George gave that some thought. “He is rather keen on you,” he agreed.

Draco barked out a laugh. “No. He’s not.”

George spared Draco a raised brow. “Harry was still nagging me about the guest list at the garden party, because he was obsessed with his mystery man.”

Draco sighed and shook his head. Draco felt squishy inside when he thought of the king searching for - well, not Draco. As George said, the king’s mystery man. That fantasy creature who’d ensnared him. That made-up celestial being. “He used the balls to play make believe just as much as I did. That person he met is a construct. He is obsessed with someone who isn’t real.”

“The guy I met in the maze seemed pretty real to me,” George drawled. “You ever think you’re not giving folks a chance?”

That flared up all the angst and heartache Draco had wrestled with the previous evening. Suddenly it was too hard to try to put any feeling into words. It felt so exceptionally trite to say no, absolutely not, since Draco was hiding and lying just as George said. But also, maybe Draco didn’t want to have to come out and say the truth. It felt like begging everyone to see him, finally, exactly as he was meant to be. Someone worthy of affection and desire and a million other amazing things. Begging opened up the door for them saying no, denying Draco. How could Draco give them a chance to do that?

Hadn’t Draco given King Harry that chance? Not in words as clear as George would say them. But in actions. The same sort of actions the king had liked when Draco was a beautiful stranger. They hadn’t been the same, when it was only Draco doing it.

What Draco managed to say was, “The king’s marrying someone else.” He sounded raw and pitiful, and despite all his intentions Draco had opened himself up in front of George. A man he hadn’t dared to trust when he should have.

George frowned, but it wasn’t at Draco. “It’s a monumental mistake, even for Harry. He doesn’t even like Colton!”

Draco opened his mouth. He felt out the words once before actually saying them. Practicing making the shapes. He knew it was breaking his friends’ confidence to say the words at all. But secrets were lonely, and it was George who was here with Draco now, making sure he wasn’t alone. So Draco said, “King Harry’s not marrying Colton.”

George’s expression remained resentful. “Sure he is. The whole Slughorn family is spending the day with us so they can announce it at dinner.”

Draco smiled then, small and meaningful. He did actually tell George everything about that.

Talking had not magically solved all of Draco’s problems. He just felt more exhausted than ever, with the added bonus of being frayed around the edges so he’d be extra prickly if anyone approached him.

George made him shower. George made him eat. Then, because George was a heartless maniac who agreed to do Draco a huge favor, George made Draco stomp down all by himself to one of the big fancy reception rooms the castle had. Apparently that was where the family get together was happening. George assured Draco he’d be able to gather enough dignity to greet a dozen Weasleys and, perhaps, a king.

There were definitely a lot of Weasleys.

There were the standard Weasleys, like Ron and his offspring and his far too eager looking wife. Draco dared not get too close to Hermione, in case she followed through on Ron’s threat of an apology and Draco would be called upon to not be a right bastard about it. Of course Percy and Audrey were there, with Molly and Lucy sitting properly on a settee instead of playing with the other children. Normally it would be a relief to greet them, and maybe hide behind them, but Draco was coming in high strung and worried he’d emote so heavily at them they’d just be even less comfortable.

Then there were the distant Weasleys. Bill and Fleur, with three darling children far too graceful to be accused of causing mischief, even if they were. Ginny Weasley, who alternated between staring guiltily at Draco and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Charlie Weasley, who didn’t recognize Draco one bit and couldn’t be cared to.

Finally, the terrifying Weasley. The matriarch herself. Molly Weasley. A short, slightly plump, tremendously kind looking woman who was situated on a sofa in the middle of the room. All the better to look upon her horde of children and grandchildren, and lull unsuspecting adversaries into thinking her a gentle woman. Draco knew underestimating her was a grave mistake.

Also, there were those who were there technically as guests of the king. Only, with the king nowhere to be found, and Molly clearly reigned. This was no matter to Andromeda, who displayed the same grandmotherly affection as she watched Teddy frolic with the other littles. That big fellow was there as well. What was his name, Hagrid? He was a perpetually jolly man who welcomed the lively company. Perhaps it put strain on Narcissa, who was pale as a sheet and embracing proprietary to a degree that would make Percy proud.

The only people in the room truly out of place were the two who showed up to a family afternoon dressed in finery more fit for a ball. They should have recognized it and felt awkward, but no. The senior Slughorn couldn’t hide his smugness, and the junior Slughorn couldn’t hide his pomposity. Two men who thought they were better than everyone in front of them, who did not see these people as family. It was off putting to, well, everyone.

That, Draco supposed, was reason to enter the fray.

Draco started with his mother. Perhaps he should have deferred to one of the more powerful women in the room, but for Draco his mother would always come first. Draco greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. Her smile was restrained, but her eyes were still shining. Perhaps it wasn’t so strange for her to be here in the castle, surrounded by potential enemies. Still, she reprimanded Draco with a gentle, “You weren’t at dinner last night.”

Draco tried not to look too sheepish. “Found a project. You know how I get distracted.”

“Mmhmm,” was what his mother said, while her sharp gaze and thin smile promised he’d provide her a proper answer later.

He kissed his aunt in greeting next. She patted him affectionately on the cheek and let him go.

Then there was nothing to do but greet Molly. They’d met before, but so long ago in what felt like such a different world that Draco wasn’t sure it counted. Draco couldn’t remember what sort of snobbery he displayed when forced to dine with people he once thought so beneath him. There wasn’t exactly protocol to fall back on that told Draco how to show enough respect to make up for his past transgressions. Molly was Lady Weasley, technically a dowager viscountess. Draco was technically next to nothing. Technicalities didn’t mean much, anymore. Draco looked at Molly and didn’t consider titles. He considered the brave, dedicated, occasionally wild children she raised. Many of which Draco was thankful to call friends. When he bowed to her he bowed too deeply. Only, it didn’t feel that way. It felt like giving her the proper respect.

Molly got squinty in suspicion, but Draco wasn’t given time to see if the suspicion would grow to tension. Percy had walked over to say hello.

Probably being in front of Percy’s family made him uncomfortable, so he did one of those manly backslap greetings instead of a hug. “Draco! You weren’t at dinner yesterday.” Naricssa had been scolding, but Percy was all concern.

Draco did his best impression of a reassuring smile. “How’d the girls do? Did they know all the proper spoons?” He realized when Molly glared at him for saying it that it might sound like mockery.

Only, Percy didn’t take it that way at all. He was beaming. “They did perfect. Audrey’s quite proud.”

Draco carried on, keeping focus on Percy. “I never doubted it. Say, you should have them tutor Hermione!”

“I heard that,” said Ron, who suddenly was at Draco’s side. His tone was rough, but he smiled wryly. Draco mistakenly relaxed. It was like Ron had been waiting for Draco to let his guard down before saying with a toothy grin, “You weren’t at drills this morning.”

Draco tensed up again and scowled. “You know I don’t ever have to go to drills.”

Ron’s grin never waivered. He gave Draco a back slap not too dissimilar from Percy’s greeting. “But you’ll be there tomorrow to make up for your absenteeism.” That was more than vaguely threatening, but also sort of okay? At least, Molly’s squint had changed its flavor to something more confused than suspicious. She didn’t know what to make of Draco having her sons’ approval.

Unthinkingly, Draco chose that moment to glance up at everything else, and in that moment he matched eyes with Colton. All of Colton’s aloof snobbery had dissolved into something harsh. His eyes narrowed and his chin jutted up and out, trying to rise up further in superiority. Even though Draco was clearly on higher footing in this family that had literally welcomed him with open arms.

Which was when the best arms of all wrapped around Draco’s knees.

“Draco!” squealed Teddy. The boy had pulled himself away from the littles for his favorite Cousin. Draco squatted down to pick up the child, feeling light for the first time in days as he cuddled him.

How had it been days since they’d played? Draco never went a day without time with Teddy, unless he was visiting Percy in the city. Being at the castle felt like a trip, in a way. This new space offered new diversions. New conflicts. Draco had thought he’d only been invited to tend to his cousin, but clearly his cousin was happy and well tended to. Draco’s presence was only needed because, well, they loved each other. And that was what family was for. Like, maybe, he hadn’t been invited as a babysitter afterall. Draco squeezed Teddy tighter, aching a bit inside at the sense of belonging and the even greater sense of not belonging at all. He couldn’t wait to get home and have family time be something safe and happy, and not at all associated with a king who was about to be engaged to someone else.

Teddy wrinkled out of Draco’s arms. “We’re playing knights and dragons!” he announced gleefully, tugging on Draco’s arm to join in. Draco’s heart soared.

Then Colton cleared his throat. Draco could hear the sneer in Colton’s words even without looking. “Children’s games, Draco?”

Draco tried to smile through a tense jaw and thin lips. How had the king ever considered Colton seriously? Thankfully, that was off the table. Only, while Draco thought Prince Viktor a lovely man, Draco couldn’t imagine the prince rolling around in the grass with the children. Would the prince indulge King Harry’s own passion for childish games with Teddy? Would he roll his eyes at the king’s lack of decorum? Did King Harry even know? It wasn’t for Draco to care, either way.

What Draco did care about was Teddy, and that made the here and now very simple. Draco was able to lock eyes with Colton once more and offer up what probably passed for a polite smile. “I make a very good dragon.”

And Draco did, on hands and knees, crawling after Teddy and all the Weasley cousins, until the army of knights tickled him into submission.