Behind Closed Doors.
Prologue.
Draco stared at the foreboding presence of his house from atop a hill a short distance away and marvelled at how beautiful it seemed. He supposed that, to a stranger, it might suggest a perfect, well-to-do family, with good manners and social graces bred into them. There would be a firm, respectable husband; a pretty, doting wife; a privately educated and promising son and heir.
How well hidden they all were. Behind closed doors, the people presented to the public in such a golden light could show their true colours, or else remain masked before one another, indulging in their secrets in some dusty, long forgotten corner of the ancient house.
The sun setting behind the house, creating a fading light around the edges of the black silhouette, almost like a halo around a head composed solely of darkness, alerted him as to the time and he sighed, heaving himself from the ground. He walked reluctantly across the lawns, until he was once again in the shadow of Malfoy Manor.
