For a long time I have wanted to write a Dramione fic, but nothing concrete came to mind. But now at literally long last, after many failed first chapters... I present this. A very short first chapter to see if people are interested in reading more. Chapters will be a lot longer if enough people want me to write more. It's my first Harry Potter fanfic so... please be nice. I'm wading into Inferi infested waters writing this.

Enjoy !

Flares

Hermione remembered that night well. The Burrow had been sombre with the death of Mad-Eye hanging over them like a dark storm cloud. Bill and Lupin had been gone for hours searching for his body, but it wasn't Mad-Eye's body they returned with. This body wasn't dead for one thing. Another, it was drenched in scarlet blood and they all recognized him instantly even with his eyes closed and pale cheeks peppered with spots of blood.

"Ze wedding with zat... filth 'ere-!" Fleur was still raging even two days later as she stalked through the house, making sure to avoid the cellar at all costs. "A Death Eater at moi wedding-!"

Bill had tried to explain to her numerous times that the Death Eater in question wouldn't be anywhere near the ceremony itself, but his words had fallen on deaf ears. The fact remained that no one knew what to do with the uninvited guest Lupin had spied sprawled atop a clump of hydrangeas in a Muggle back garden, his pale hair spattered with red distinctive even at such a height.

-O-O-O-

"It's been two days" Harry muttered as he, Ron and Hermione folded napkins. "He should have woken up by now."

"Personally I hope he never does" Ron retorted bitterly, folding a cream napkin particularly viciously. "What a shame he didn't break his bloody neck when he fell."

Hermione set her perfectly folded napkins aside, disapproving of Ron's statement. "What do they plan to do with him if he does wake up? Did Kingsley say? Did he play a part in the...?" No one had recalled seeing the fallen boy in the air, let alone stunning or blasting him out of the sky. But then, it had been pandemonium up there during the aerial battle. A stray curse or stunner could easily have caught him.

"Kingsley dropped off some Veritaserum last night" Ron admitted. "Fred and George left a pair of Extendables in my room. I heard him telling dad the moment he woke up, they were going to shove it down his throat, find out everything we can about... You-Know-Who."

The trio fell silent at that; what truths would come spilling from out of Draco Malfoy's mouth when that happened? Nothing good, they were sure of that.

"Git deserves everything that is coming to him" Ron breathed out as he picked up his pile of roughly folded napkins and vacated the room.

-O-O-O-

When Draco woke up later that same day, he flung himself over the side of the bed, retching violently at the pain in his back; but there was nothing in his stomach to throw up. With a wracking cough he lay back down as gently as possible and gazed up into the inky darkness with tired eyes. Hesitantly he raised a hand above him, but felt nothing. After a moment of exploration with his hands, he found he was on something hard with a cold stone wall on his left. He was in some prison, he was sure. It smelt like damp, rot and decay down here. The cold of the room seemed to permeate his very soul, unable to stop the violent shivers from escaping.

Very carefully he pulled himself up into a sitting position, swearing under his breath as a sharp stabbing pain ripped through his chest.

"Fuck-!" he winced, pressing a hand to his stomach, the urge to throw up once more enveloping him. Draco felt his pockets for his wand, but found them empty.

Hostile territory, he thought grimly. Did they find me after...?

After what he'd tried to do. After he'd managed to escape.

Through the darkness, the outline of a door appeared as a lamp was lit behind it. Draco scrambled to his feet and backed up but didn't get far as he tripped backwards over something, landing with a crunch on his back upon stone cold flooring.

Pain beyond pain ripped through him. All he could do to stop himself screaming at the agony was by rolling onto his side and stuffing his fist into his mouth while tears of pain filled his eyes. Once more he retched, rolling onto his stomach and resting his forehead against the freezing floor. Just let me die, he thought distantly. Please.

The room was thrown into sharp relief as a ball of light illuminated it, but Draco's eyes were closed and his face pressed against the dusty and dirty floor.

"Malfoy?" a voice called – a neutral voice that he didn't recognize –hands attempting to pull him to his feet. The moment they pulled particularly hard, tugging him to his knees, the pain in his chest and back became too much and the darkness enveloped him once more.

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