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Draco's Cloak

Summary:

Draco has a fabulous new cloak, and he is looking forward to showing it off at the next Death Eater meeting.

Written for the Harry Potter Make it Musical! Fest.

Notes:

Written for the Harry Potter Make It Musical Fest.

Loosely inspired by Sunflower_Swan's amazing fic Clandestine.

Prompt:
Musical: Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dream Coat
Song: Joseph's Coat

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

When Draco had first joined the Death Eaters he had been distraught.  Not because of the expectation that he would take part in torturing and murdering people - he was perfectly aware of that, thanks.  Nor was he concerned by the insanity of the other Death Eaters - he had grown up on stories of dear Auntie Bella, so the fact that Dolohov, Lestrange etc. were also as mad as a box of frogs was not a shock.  No, what had been the most distressing had been...the uniform.

All that black.  It was such a cliche. 

Black may be slimming, and it may be considered elegant. Pansy raved about her little black dress made by some muggle called Coco something, but god was it dull.

When you were as gifted in the looks department as all Malfoy’s were, then wearing all black was just so limiting.  And the silver mask didn’t help matters, hiding his best features from the world.  Everyone knew that Malfoy’s had faces like angels and the physique of gods.  Draco privately felt that the Dark Lord was jealous.  

He had been planning this outfit for weeks.  

He was going to show the other Death Eaters what they had been missing.  He was going to show them there was more to life than black.

 

As he strutted into the Death Eater meeting, eyes turned towards him, and whispers started. 

“What the fuck is he wearing?” hissed Pansy.

Theo blinked and rubbed his eyes.  “That can’t be right? What colour is that?” 

“Is that azure?” Blaise asked. 

“Which colour are you talking about?” Theo spluttered.

“It’s one of the blue colours.” Pansy snarked.

“I think I’ve got a migraine from all the colours in that cloak.”  Blaise moaned.

Well, I can definitely see red, and yellow,” Daphne piped up, “Oh and scarlet, black, ochre and peach.  This is a fun game” she giggled.

“Ruby and olive and violet and fawn.”  Pansy noted, joining in with Daphne.

“It's ridiculous,”  Blaise drawled. “We should call it Draco’s cloak of many colours”

"Draco's Technicolour Dream Coat," Theo laughed.

“I look handsome and I look smart.  I’m a fucking walking work of art, Zabini”.  Draco sniffed.   

“I think Draco’s in love with that cloak of many colours.” Pansy muttered snidely to Daphne, who giggled again.

“You’re just jealous of my dazzling cloak.”  Draco stated imperiously.  “You’ll see, all the other Death Eaters will think it’s fabulous.”

 

Voldermort pouted, young Malfoy’s cloak was elegant, the cut was fine.  The tasteful style was the ultimate in good design.  You could tell that it would catch the eye.  It certainly made the Dark Lord stop and stare.  He would need to know where he got that cloak.  It certainly was a step up from the drab black design he had insisted his death eaters wear.

It was a cloak for a King. Voldermort sighed, it was a shame to kill young Malfoy, but he had to have that cloak.  He would need to bide his time though.  As much as he would love to smite him down now in front of all the other Death Eaters as a warning not to dress better than the Dark Lord; Lucius was bound to throw a fit if his heir was so obviously killed.  He would need to use all of his cunning and trickery in order to get the cloak from young Malfoy, as well as ensuring the blame was not pinned on him.   

He casually looked around the room noting that his inner circle did not look pleased with Draco’s new attire.  Perhaps one of them would do the job for him, with a bit of subtle persuasion.

 

Voldemort was spot on in his assessment.  The inner circle were not pleased by the development.  When the Dark Lord did not immediately smite down Draco where he stood, they took it to mean that he had approval to wear the brightly coloured cloak.  Mutterings started amongst them about favouritism.  

“Malfoys always get away with everything,” Rodolphus muttered to Dolohov, through gritted teeth.

“I’ve never liked him all that much,” Dolohov commented.  “Too much self importance and strutting around, just like his father.”

“The bloody clock even goes well with his vest underneath.” Snape snidely commented.  “He looks like one a peacock.”

“He will never go back to wearing black now.” Crabbe Senior moaned.

Further comments were heard muttered back and forth in reaction to Draco’s cloak.

“You know this cloak has really got my goat.”

“Life in the service of the Dark Lord really is unfair.”  

 

As Draco got closer to the inner circle, his brothers in arms looked at him with various expressions of jealousy.

Giving them a winning smile, Draco gave a twirl.  “Well what do you think?  Much more stylish than those boring black robes you all wear.  Snape looks like something out of the Victorian era.” 

“I’ve always found a certain elegance to black, Draco.” Snape snarked.  “I certainly suit it better than the lilac and gold and chocolate and mauve you have going on.”

Draco waved Snape’s comment away with a laugh.  “The cream and crimson and silver and rose combination on my left sleeve is a particular favourite.  I think the whole thing offsets my eyes perfectly.”

“What other colours are there?” Goyle Senior asked.  “It just looks like purple and white and pink and orange and blue to me.”

“That’s because you are a simpleton, Goyle.” Draco sneered, “who wouldn’t recognise azure and lemon and russet and grey if they came round a corner and smacked you over the head.”

Dolohov looked Draco up and down.  “Perhaps that cloak should be reserved for someone who has more seniority, someone with more skill than you, little boy.”

 

Voldemort overheard the conversation between his inner circle and Draco with amusement.  Yes, it looked like they would be able to do away with young Malfoy for him, and with only the subtlest of persuasions.

“My faithful servants,” Voldemort began.  “It sounds as though a mission with young Malfoy here will certainly show us whether he is ready to join the inner circle.  I want you to go to Knockturn Alley and see what intelligence you can acquire.”  

As the inner circle slowly made their way towards the exit of the Manor, Voldemort called Dolohov over to him.

“I want that cloak, Dolohov.  And, I don’t want Draco to return, understand?”

Antonin nodded, bowed to his Lord and slowly walked away.

 

Arriving in Knockturn Alley after everyone, Dolohov took the opportunity to quickly disarm Draco and cast an incarcerous.  

The other Death Eaters turned around looking askance.

“Unfortunately, Malfoy, the Dark Lord wants that cloak.” Dolohov announced.  “Crabbe, Goyle, strip him.”

The two Death Eater’s quickly obeyed, stripping the cloak from Draco leaving him on the ground still tied up, in just his pants and vest.

Dolohov raised his wand, and approached Draco menacingly.  “He has also asked me to get rid of you, permanently.  Any last words?”

“You utter bastard.” Draco spluttered.  “The Dark Lord can get his own cloak.”

Snape quickly cut in.  “Dolohov, you wouldn’t want Draco’s father to discover you did this.  Any spell you cast will show up on your wand, and well, some of your spells are pretty unique.”

“Let us leave him here, all alone and he’s bound to die.” Crabbe suggested.  Snape sneered at the idea, but some of the others seemed to be considering it.  Idiots thought Snape, Lucius would easily come and rescue Draco once he realised he hadn’t returned with the rest of them.  Snape would be happy to tell him who had suggested killing his son and heir too.

Suddenly a mysterious man appeared out of nowhere from a side alley, a hood covering his head and face.  

Lestrange looked over at Dolohov and murmured, “you know no one ever comes to this part of the alley, unless they are looking for something unsavory to buy.  We could always do with some money and perhaps this stranger wants a new servant.”

Dolohov pondered this a moment, “we can tell the Dark Lord that Draco has been eliminated without the need to kill him.”

“Sir,” Rodolphus began. “Would you perhaps be interested in this excellent servant we have.  Prepared to do virtually anything you ask.  Only 50 galleons.”

The stranger looked down at Draco on the floor, at Crabbe and Goyle clutching a brightly coloured clock, and at Snape, Lestrange and Dolohov stood to the side.  

He nodded once, dropped a bag of coins on to the floor, grabbed Draco and apparated away, all without saying a word.

“Well that was painless,” commented Dolohov.  “Lets go and tell the Dark Lord the good news.”

 

Meanwhile in a secret location…

“But my cloak, the bastards have taken my fabulous cloak”

“I’ll get you a new one, Malfoy.” Harry chuckled. “You’ll find in the Order we wear all sorts of colours.”

 

Notes:

Producers Note
This work is part of the Harry Potter: Make It Musical Fest, an anonymous fanfic fest with prompts inspired by musicals and/or songs from musicals.

If you enjoyed reading this, then please shower the creator with kudos and comments love!

 

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