Chapter 1: The bringer of bad news
It was shortly after eight on a Tuesday morning in July when Narcissa Malfoy decided to break the news to her son. She found him in his usual seat at the table eating his toast ad marmalade as he always did. As she took a seat across from him, Narcissa couldn't help but wonder how Draco would take it.
He had been seventeen and of age by wizarding standards for a little over a month now and would be expecting to find out about his arranged marriage. It was, of course, a tradition in the Malfoy family to arrange a respectable pure blood marriage for their children. But she had heard Draco complain about this particular girl on more than one occasion.
Finally, unable to bear the building tension anymore, Narcissa found the courage to talk. "Draco," she said causing him to look up from his Daily Prophet, "Do you remember Molly and Author Weasley's daughter, Ginny?"
She hoped she sounded casual about it. She either must have or else her son just wasn't paying much attention because his only reply was a half nod. He didn't seem to care much when he replied. "Why? What does she have to do with anything?"
The mother decided to get it over with. "Well," she answered her son, "she's kid of your fiancé." She followed this announcement with a nervous giggle and then had to stifle a laugh at her sons reaction.
There sat Draco, his Prophet lying on the floor forgotten, marmalade running down the corner of his lip, and a shocked expression on his face. It quickly turned to a look of disgust and despair that only a Malfoy could have pulled off. He opened his mouth to talk twice but failed. His third try was interrupted by a eerie green glow coming from his dark mark.
One look at his mother told her he could not continue this conversation now. Draco muttered something incoherent that sounded like "Gota' go" then, with a flash, he dissolved into the air and was gone from site.