To Bellatrix candle light was pain.
Ever since she was a little girl she was captivated by the dancing flames and shimmering wax. She would play with candles that lit her bedroom when Narcissa and Andromeda had drifted off to sleep. She would pick up the stump of the candle and tip it so the wax would drip on the back of her hand. It would burn her pale skin, the wax hardened on her hand. Bellatrix would get hours of pleasure out of picking the wax of her hand.
Her initiation into the Death Eaters had been bathed in candle light. The Dark Lord had taken her trembling arm in his hand. He thought she was shaking because she was afraid of pain but it was excitement. The Dark Lord pressed his wand on her left forearm. Black lines danced under her skin like ink on parchment until they formed a dark mark. It stung and seared, it was red all around it. She had been branded with his mark.
To Andromeda candle light was hope.
Andromeda wrote her letters to Ted by candle light, her ink glistening in dancing light. She had to write her letters in secret so her family wouldn't find out about her relationship with a Mudblood. She would send Ted's owl back while holding an enamelled candle holder. She would watch the familiar owl soar across the blue inky sky studded with sparking stars. She would sit by the window until her candle burned down leaving her with only the light from the moon. She would gaze at the sky wishing to be free.
Every night Andromeda would place three candles in the window, their light illuminating the darkness. She hoped that one day the lights would lead her lost family home. She imagined Nymphadora stumbling around in the dark until she saw the light shining through the darkness, leading her home. She thought of Remus walking in the beam of light home to his son. And she desperately hoped for Ted to come out of the night and embrace her. But the candles stood in the window as Andromeda put Teddy to bed.
To Narcissa candle light was love.
Narcissa kissed Lucius for the first time in a room full of twinkling candles that stood in silver chandeliers and candlesticks. Lucius' blond hair bounced the golden light off it; his pale face was illuminated by the candles as shadows swan across his face. Her necklace glinted in the light from the flames. She felt like there was a candle in her heart that shined out of her, the light showing her the true love that stood in front of her. He held her hand in his, his skin pressing on hers like hot wax.
Draco was born during the early hours of the morning; the room had candle light bouncing off the walls and mirrors. Draco was bathed in golden light like an angel when Narcissa first saw him. A little halo of golden light crowned him. The whole world seemed still for those moments Draco was in her arms. His little arms waving wrapped in a blanket cradled by his mother.