By The Light Of A Dying Flame ~ Drarry Fanfic

Chapter 1: Draco

Draco Malfoy stood on a windowsill contemplating the distance to the ground below.

His bedroom was on the third floor of Malfoy Manor in a wing that overlooked a grassy hill. The height of the window did not exactly inspire confidence for the safety of his limbs—of which he was quite fond—but the gentle slope beneath him became much more appealing with each passing tick of his grandfather's watch sitting abandoned on the armoire. He stuck one foot out into the evening air and waved it around. The sight of his unsupported appendage dangling beyond the window made him squirm, but at the end of his freefall meant either escape or death—and at the current juncture, either would be acceptable.

"Just do it, you coward."

Draco glared, twisting around carefully on the lip of the windowsill to regard the translucent figure behind him. "Easy for you to say, Augustine," he huffed, "You're already dead."

The ghost scoffed, the ridiculous cravat he wore over his even more ridiculous collar trembling with the exaggerated movement. "It's entirely rude to point out the state of someone's existence, young man," he admonished, floating closer to the window. "And you should never refer to your elders by their given name." He regarded Draco coldly, smoothing his hand over his shimmering waistcoat. As he tilted his head, the slant of his nose and cut of his brow spoke distantly of Lucius Malfoy. "Your father has been entirely too lax with the discipline in my house."

"For the record, sir, " Draco said, turning back to the open window, "this hasn't been your house in nearly three hundred years."

Augustine grumbled unhappily, a sudden flood of warm air crashing against Draco's back signaling that he'd vanished from the room. Draco sagged against the windowsill, his gray eyes tracing the nearly imperceptible line of dark ground meeting darker sky in the distance. His long fingers wrapped around the stone, and he braced himself, a dull spark beneath his skin urging him to just do it, you coward.

A knock, followed by his mother's soft voice, "Draco?" He closed his eyes, steadying his breath, as she said slightly louder, "Draco, our presence is required downstairs."

"Coming, Mother," he called to her, dropping backward off the ledge and swinging the window closed with a disappointed snick of wood against stone. His pointed face stared at him in the glass, all sallow cheeks and semi-permanent scowl. He needed a haircut, his silvery locks beginning to curl behind his ears and around the nape of his neck. His mouth twisted in distaste, and he hastily turned away.

Narcissa Malfoy stood on the other side of the door, her own pale blonde hair pulled severely from her face and falling down her back in a thin curtain. Deep grooves were cut into the skin around her eyes and mouth, but she smiled lightly at her son, and they blurred with the movement.

He did not smile back. "Is he here?" Draco asked calmly, his tone one of affected boredom, but his heartbeat had picked up, rattling like an irritating insect buzzing in his ears.

"Not yet, but he may be summoned soon." She began to lead him down the hallway, before adding over her shoulder, "Fenrir thinks he's caught someone important."

Draco followed her down the grand staircase and into the drawing room, attempting not to drag his feet like a child. His father sat by the fireplace, his gray eyes narrowed towards the group of people by the entryway, at whom Draco barely glanced before he and Narcissa came to stand behind Lucius' chair, like some sort of funhouse mirror version of the portrait hanging above the mantle.

Fenrir Greyback paced in front of the group like an animal that had been trapped indoors for too long. His hair was tied back in a long, scraggly ponytail, his dirty fingernails sharpened to deadly points and glowing eyes flicking around the room. Behind him, several Snatchers held a fresh batch of prey, and Draco's stomach roiled; it had taken several days to clean all the blood from the carpet last time Fenrir had turned up.