Fight Like a Lady
**Portions of Épiphanie's dialogue with Lucius are excerpted from The Art of War by Sun Tzu
"Wow! This room is like a dormitory!" Ginny exclaimed when she and Hermione arrived at the Shacklebolt Residence on New Year's Eve. Épiphanie was sending her owl Hatshepsut out of the window. Her cloak and gown hung upon a dressmaker's mannequin in a corner of the room.
"I love the color!" Hermione remarked. "I can't believe you live in The Boltons! When I was small, I used to dream of having an apartment here. I'd pretend that I would take tea at Kensington Palace!"
"My dear, I have taken tea at Kensington Palace. I assure you, that it is quite the same whether the residence is called a palace or a cottage," said the elegant lady in the painting above the fireplace."
"Grandmother, these are my friends, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley."
"You've attended tea at Kensington Palace?" Hermione was awestruck.
"Don't be so surprised, my child. The Malfoys aren't the only wizards in the peerage."
"Wait—what?" Épiphanie looked up at the painting. Her grandmother gave an exasperated sigh, picking up her dog and stroking its head.
"That son of mine! Ever the modest one! My dear, you are The Lady Épiphanie Glapion-Shacklebolt of Worthing! Since the Statute of Secrecy, few wizards give as much deference to rank as they do blood status. Of course, the Shacklebolts have been of the same position on blood status as we were on race relations in muggle society and have succeeded in carefully managing both to the greater good."
"I'm a—but, Grandmother, my parents were never married. Shouldn't that disqualify me?"
"My dear! We are wizards! The Attorney-General and House of Lords will be none the wiser."
"That explains how Kingsley was able to so easily attach himself to the Prime Minister during the war," said Hermione.
Ginny giggled. "And to think Kingsley's Potterwatch codename was Royal!"
"Is that why George keeps calling me 'My Lady'?" Épiphanie asked.
"George is pretty smart, and he may very well have discovered that fact, but I'm sure that was more him flirting with you." Ginny laughed.
"George? Flirting with me? But he's like twenty!"
"Well, I certainly didn't miss the look on Draco's face when he entered the Burrow on Christmas day and saw him sitting so close to you!" Hermione pointed out.
"And his tone of voice was definitely the old Malfoy," said Ginny. "Who would ever have dreamed that a Malfoy would visit the Burrow?"
"Was he really that bad?" asked Épiphanie.
"Well, consider that he used to count Theodore Nott among his closest friends." Hermione went to the bookshelf and examined the titles there. "He was a right prat!"
The girls spent the remainder of the day gossiping about schoolmates and helping Épiphanie select a hairstyle that she liked. After a light luncheon with Kingsley, during which, the girls teased him about his royal connections, they retired to Épiphanie's suite to help her prepare for the evening.
Draco tucked the package that Harry had given him into a desk drawer and cast a spell to secure it. He was curious that his nerves were on edge, as he had attended a number of balls in his lifetime, including the Twenty-Eight. Although he had received an invitation, he wondered how the other guests might react to his appearance there. He also wondered if Lucius and his mother would be in attendance. The Twenty-Eight Ball had always been a particular favorite of Narcissa's. Kingsley had indicated that he had not been in attendance for quite some time and Draco couldn't remember ever seeing him, though he had attended the ball since he was twelve. How would they respond to the sight of The Minister's daughter on his arm?
Draco considered mixing up a Draught of Peace to calm his anxiety, but worried that in his current state of nervousness, he might overdo it. He certainly did not want to embarrass Épiphanie by failing to show up because he was in a deep sleep. He smiled and found himself relaxing a bit when he saw her owl, Hatshepsut, waiting patiently at the window, and opened it to let her in. Draco took the letter and offered the owl a treat as he ripped open the note.
I'm so excited! As promised, here is our floo address: 3 The Boltons, or you may simply say House of Shacklebolt. My father has assured me that either is appropriate. Gotta run! Hermione and Ginny will be here soon. Can't wait to see you again!
The note fluttered to the floor as Draco stood, astonished. It couldn't be, could it? He quickly cast a disillusionment charm and apparated to the sidewalk across from the address she had given. As he stared up at the grand house, Hatshepsut flew overhead and descended beyond the rooftop. There was movement near one of the windows and he saw a flash of familiar red hair. Could that be Ginny Weasley? They had been living in the same street all this time! He wondered if the house had wards around it and received confirmation when he noticed a slight ripple in the air around the property as a muggle postman approached. He shook off a subtle shiver, and rang the bell at the gate. Kingsley himself emerged and received a small parcel. Draco silently swore when he saw that the former Auror had paused, scanning the area across the street for a moment before returning to the house, and wondered if he had been discovered. When The Minister disappeared inside, Draco apparated home.
He dressed carefully for the evening. His dress robes were charcoal grey velvet, heavily embellished with silver floss silk flower heads and foliage that trimmed the entire lapel and hem of the robe and also decorated the back of the robes from the waist to the hem; the turned cuffs and fabric covered buttons also displayed the same fine needlework. His waistcoat was ivory satin embroidered with rose pink leaf sprigs and trimmed in vines that rose up to the high choker collar. An ivory silk blouse, breeches in matching grey velvet and patent leather boots completed the ensemble. He carefully brushed his hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck and tied it with an ivory satin bow. After wanding away any lint or stray hair, he gave himself a once-over, collected his gloves, cloak and belongings and went to the fireplace.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! I don't think I could have been able to dress without you guys!" Épiphanie exclaimed as Hermione fastened the buttons at the back of her gown. "This is like getting ready for a wedding!"
The gown was ice-gray Mikado fabric featuring a figure-flattering bodice with Austrian crystal beads that carried through to a two-inch beaded grosgrain ribbon sash. The bodice was completed with fitted gossamer sleeves that met the scalloped trim of the romantic sweetheart neckline and a dramatic keyhole lace back. The low back flowed into thick pleating, a full skirt with a sweep train, and matching crystal buttons that held it all together. Épiphanie wore crystal-tipped hairpins in the elaborately twisted updo that allowed her to show off her bare back. She slipped the dragonfly bracelet onto her wrist and pinned on a pair of diamond and emerald drop earrings that her father said had belonged to her grandmother.
"So how come we didn't know about this tattoo?" Ginny demanded.
"Very few people do," Épiphanie replied. They referred to the tattoo of her great-grandmother's vévé that covered the expanse of her back. The serpents appeared to undulate over her finely-toned muscles when she moved. "Maman doesn't even know about it."
"Well, you look amazing," Ginny gushed. "Madame Malkin certainly outdid herself.
"You look like the Snow Queen!" Hermione smiled, taking her cloak from the mannequin just as Topsy appeared to inform them that Draco had arrived. Her cloak was silvery dark grey velvet that shimmered when it caught the light. The hood, hems and dolman sleeves were trimmed in silver fox and the ensemble fastened with an ornate filigree silver clasp.
Draco and Kingsley stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, gazing up in awe as Épiphanie descended.
"My darling child! You look divine!" Kingsley breathed, taking her hand as she stepped into the foyer.
Draco stared speechlessly at her for several seconds until he heard Hermione clear her throat.
"You are absolutely stunning, mademoiselle!" He found his voice at last and stepped forward. "For you." He gave a bow as he opened a flat leather box and presented it to her.
Ginny and Hermione gasped behind her. Lying upon a bed of black velvet was an exquisite serpent necklace of goblin-made silver, encrusted with 100 carats of diamonds and two marquise emerald eyes. The choker-style necklace was designed to look as if the snake was curled about the wearer's neck, its tail coiling just behind the head. Épiphanie's eyes were wide and she let out a sigh as Draco draped it about her neck, the cool metal warming instantly against her skin.
"That is a rather extravagant piece," Kingsley commented.
"I understand, sir. Harry actually gave it to me. When he learned that I would be accompanying Épiphanie to the ball, he told me that he had discovered the necklace in the Black family vault and offered it."
"Did he now?" Kingsley pursed his lips.
"Mum wants pictures!" Ginny declared, holding up a camera. Draco and Épiphanie posed for several pictures before stating that they really should be going. He offered her his hand, but instead of turning to the fireplace, he stepped towards the door. Épiphanie gave him a bemused look. He winked and opened the door. At the curb stood a horse-drawn carriage with a liveried coachman.
"Milady." He escorted her to the coach and carefully helped her aboard. Once they were seated, he drew a fur throw over their legs and Épiphanie snuggled close to him with a giggle. The coach began to move forward and they waved to the group standing on the doorstep.
Presently, the coach came to a stop in front of a domed Italianate building with a mosaic frieze in a ribbon around the top of the wall.
"Isn't this the Royal Albert Hall?" Épiphanie asked.
"It is." Draco stepped out of the carriage and offered his and as she descended. He led her down a walkway above the south steps to a large monument with marble statues atop the base and looked around before touching his wand to a tablet on the base of the monument. The writing glowed gold and the tablet transformed itself into an archway. They stepped through the arch and down a grand marble staircase until they reached a set of silver doors. Two wizard footmen in golden robes bowed and pulled open the grand doors. Draco escorted her to a room to the side, where several women were gathered. An elf took her name and her cloak. She checked her hair and makeup and returned to Draco. From there, they approached a heavily draped grand arch. Draco presented his invitation to another footman and the drapes parted. The major-domo banged a tall staff and called out.
"The Right Honorable, The Viscount Salisbury and Lady Épiphanie Duminy de Glapion-Shacklebolt!"
Épiphanie placed her hand on Draco's and he conveyed her into the hall. Every eye was upon them as they crossed the floor and took up a position just as the orchestra struck up the opening notes of a waltz. He gave her a deep bow. She curtsied and stepped into his open frame. He held her gaze as they whirled about the candlelit room, oblivious to the open stares. Draco was in heaven. Never before had he felt as exhilarated as he did in this moment as they spun around the room, robes and skirts swirling about them. Épiphanie was as radiant as a princess and he longed to be her knight in shining armor. She smiled happily and he was lost in the emotion as the dance came to an end and he escorted her in the direction of the reception room.
"I should not be surprised that you waltz as well as you appear to do nearly everything else," he said.
"Well, in the United States, particularly in the south, any young lady of station will be presented at cotillion. As far back as the 18th century in New Orleans, some Creole girls were presented to society at quadroon balls. Since emancipation, African Americans have been presenting cotillions, usually for fund raising or scholarships—and we begin preparing as early as ninth grade—some even earlier."
"Ninth grade?"
"Let's see, I think that's the equivalent of…fourth year," she said. "Cotillions are presented by schools, private society organizations, cotillion clubs, fraternities and sororities. If a group has enough money to put behind it, they will host a cotillion. This was supposed to be my debut year. I'm certain that David will never speak to me again."
"And just who is this David?" Draco asked, there was an edge of jealousy in his voice.
"He was the boy who was supposed to escort me to the Bleu Revue, presented by the Zeta Phi Beta Sorority. Don't worry, Mon Furet, he was only an acquaintance."
The major-domo banged his staff again and the drape at the arch parted.
"Shit!" Draco murmured. Épiphanie looked to the arch and knew before they were announced who the couple was. The white-blond ponytail was nearly identical to Draco's.
"The Earl of Salisbury and The Countess of Salisbury!"
The master of ceremonies called a quadrille. Draco squared his shoulders and steered Épiphanie back towards the floor in the hopes that the dance would begin before his parents had an opportunity to accost them. Such would not be the case. Draco was certain that Lucius had apparated across the room, so quickly were they upon them, preventing any opportunity to move on. Draco gave Narcissa a bow and introduced Épiphanie. Lucius gave a flourishing bow.
"The Minister's daughter! I daresay this is the first time a Shacklebolt has attended the ball since I was a boy. Well done, Draco." Lucius' simpering tone did not escape her notice. "Je dois dire que je suis surpris de vous voir, Draco. Ce demi-sang illégitime est le seul responsable de vous tourner contre les siècles de tradition magique? (I must say that I am surprised to see you in attendance, Draco. This illegitimate half-blood quadroon is the one responsible for turning you against centuries of wizarding tradition?)" he said.
Épiphanie fought the urge to purse her lips and adjusted her lace gloves as she spoke. "Seigneur Salisbury, vous constaterez que je suis descendu des gens libres de couleur, connu sous le nom de Louisiane Créole. Cette généalogie comprend certainement les sorcières de sang pur. Bien que je puisse avoir encouragé l'intérêt de Draco dans le monde non magique, toute décision qu'il a prise dans la poursuite de cet intérêt est purement la sienne. Ovide nous rappelle que ces choses qui ont été faites soit par nos pères, soit par nos ancêtres, et dans lesquelles nous n'avons pas eu de part, nous ne pouvons guère appeler les nôtres. (Lord Salisbury, you will find that I am descended from the free people of color known as Louisiana Creole. That genealogy most certainly includes pureblood witches. While I may have encouraged Draco's interest in the non-magical world, any decision that he has made in pursuing that interest is purely his own. Ovid reminds us that those things which were done either by our fathers, or ancestors, and in which we ourselves had no share, we can scarcely call our own.)" She met his eyes with a complacent smile.
"If you will excuse us, Lucius—" Draco began, turning Épiphanie away.
"Narcissa, my dear. Is that…your mother's necklace?" Lucius' eyes were focused upon Épiphanie's throat.
"Draco?" Narcissa's voice was soft and weary.
"Harry Potter discovered it in his vault and offered it to me. I do believe that it becomes The Lady Épiphanie."
The master of ceremonies called another waltz.
"Draco, I believe your mother wishes to dance." He raised an eyebrow.
"As you are aware, I am Lady Épiphanie's escort. To abandon her would be most discourteous."
"Perhaps The Lady Épiphanie would honour me with a dance." The two were locked in a silent battle of wills, and Épiphanie was perhaps the only one aware of Narcissa's discomfort.
"I should be delighted. Draco, do escort The Lady Salisbury to the floor." She gave him a measured look. Don't worry. I will TRY to refrain from hexing your father, my love.
Draco suppressed an amused grin and turned to offer Narcissa his hand. Épiphanie took Lucius' hand and allowed him to lead her out to the dance floor as the music began.
"I must say, that you have certainly made your presence known in the wizarding world, My Lady." Lucius said as they made their way around the floor. He spun her and his eyes fell upon her tattoo.
"I find that it is a necessary burden, as the child of a public figure, to tolerate the glare of the paparazzi," Épiphanie replied.
"Indeed, and a burden it must be as a Slytherin when one's own father is a Gryffindor."
"Not in the least—except during quidditch." She smiled. Lucius chuckled.
"Ah yes, nearly a millennia of tradition devastated by one witch."
"Devastated? I think not, sir, considering the outcome of the last Slytherin versus Gryffindor match. Mr. Potter may have taken the snitch, but we took the victory."
"That is a rather extraordinary mark upon your back, My Lady." Lucius baited the hook.
"It is. And a powerful mark of protection." She gave him a pointed look.
"I seem to recall its connection to a particularly formidable witch. One who was known to have held an entire city in her hands."
"As she is canonized by its citizens today."
"Legend tells of an ebony wand made especially for her…"
"Does it?"
"It was created in the spirit of the caduceus. The one who wields such a wand would be most powerful indeed, and yet she refused it."
"My Lord, I was taught that the most difficult things in the world must be done while they are still easy, the greatest things in the world must be done while they are still small. For this reason the most powerful wizards never do what is great, and this is why they can achieve that greatness."
"Draco, my love. I have missed you so." Narcissa searched her son's face as if she would never see it again.
"I have missed you as well, Mother. You are welcome at Antares Hall whenever you wish to visit. You may stay if you like." He gave her a measured look with his last words.
"Draco—" she began.
"I don't trust him, Mother. He's still scheming as ever."
"I know him, Draco."
"Very well. My offer shall remain open." He glanced briefly at Épiphanie and Lucius, moving in counterpoint to their own circuit of the floor.
"I have never seen you look upon any young lady as you do this girl," Narcissa remarked.
"She's unlike any other girl I have ever known. She is amazing, Mother, intelligent, compassionate, perceptive, and beautiful. Her magic is…She has held me in thrall from the moment I first laid eyes upon her. It is as if she has imprinted herself upon my soul." Draco sighed.
"My son!" Narcissa looked into Draco's eyes. "You're in love."
"I am, Mother. I am."
They danced another waltz and a quadrille before the master of ceremonies informed the gathering that the hour was nearly upon them. Draco gratefully escorted his mother to where Épiphanie stood with Lucius.
"Draco, I must say that Lady Épiphanie Glapion-Shacklebolt's repartee is most certainly worthy of a Slytherin. She is as beautiful as she is well-spoken."
"Really, Lucius. I have spent my entire life with the very model of a worthy Slytherin lady." He smiled at his mother. "How could you think I would deign to consort with anyone less."
"Ladies and Gentlemen! The hour is upon us! Please join me in raising our wands."
They joined in raising their wands as the master of ceremonies counted the final seconds to midnight and the room darkened. A shower of colorful sparks sprang forth from wands around the room and the wizards gazed up at the spectacle. There were two however, whose eyes rested on something else. Narcissa warily gazed upon a frighteningly familiar expression in her husband's eyes. Lucius stared in covetous wonder at the entwined serpents of Épiphanie's wand.