"Avada Kedavra!" 

Lucius Malfoy's silky accent penetrated the placid valleys as a spark of green energy shot out at an equally deft African-American. He merely scowled and parried the curse as easily as swatting houseflies.

"Not as strong as once, Malfoy. I must say that." Shacklebolt shrugged his shoulders.

"Had the Dark Lord been feeding off of you too?" 

Lucius Malfoy poised himself before two other equally pale creatures in dark robes billowing behind them as parky gales rampaged past.

Shacklebolt breathed the air calmly.

"Seems as though the Dementors are on their way. You wouldn't want to face them, would you? He carelessly stiffened his neck and tossed it to the other sides. When it regained the mean position, Lucius and Narcissa had their wands pointing at his chest.

"You may be the Minister of Magic, Shacklebolt," Lucius spat. "But we are two Death Eaters, and we care a darn for the Ministry."

Shacklebolt glared at them with his onyx eyes, and before either sides could mutter a single curse, red lights toppled the wands off the two Death Eaters.

"On time," Shacklebolt shared a swift nod with the flaming redhead leading a swarm of brown trench coats on expensive broomsticks.

"On your orders, Minister." Arthur Weasley grinned at Shacklebolt. "Sorry for the delay, though. Bit far off from the Auror's Office, isn't it? And wanted to come in..style."

His expression, however, stiffened dramatically as he glared distastefully at the three Malfoys.

"That, Lucius, was for Fred."

Lucius gritted his teeth and could have retaliated, had a sudden drop in the temperature not set them chattering. Petunias alongside the bridge wilted, cold drafts skimmed past the Wizards and half a dozen clouds of darkness waltzed out of the horizon, straight towards the trio of Death Eaters.

A meek smile tugged at the corners of Shacklebolt's lips. None of them could have ever been so happy to spot the Dementors as Kingsley Shacklebolt was then. Lucius tried to grab the 10-inched masterpiece of walnut that lay scattered on the floor, but Arthur Weasely scooped down and retrieved the wands even before Lucius's frail body could duck.

"How may days since you fled,Lucius?" He asked. "Three days without roasted beef  and you find yourself fainting? Seriously, what immunity do you pure-bloods have? Another moment I am proud of being a Blood-traitor."

Dementors swooshed down and surrounded the trio.

"Take your distance, Aurors!"Arthur Weasley commanded. "It's not your fight."

Before the Dementors could begin the seduction of souls, Narcissa Malfoy erupted before them, engulfing her arms round a tall and  handsome  figure who looked too stunned to react.

"You will not touch my son!"

The Dementors didn't. They swam before Narcissa, who was brave enough to look at them in the so-called eyes, and kissed her. Together.

The shrieks of the Death Eater haunted the valleys beneath. Pools of memories plucked out of her, her pale face turned paler and the coldness in her stare was replaced with utter emptiness.

"NARCISSA!" Lucius yelled. The Dementors averted their attention to the ageing platinum-blonde and invaded him.

As they sucked the spirit of the man inside him away, a very astonished Draco Malfoy felt a limp hand slip into his. He stared into the eyes of his mother, empty yet proud. He sunk to his feet, as he grabbed her hand. Grief and fear struggled on his face for mastery. She managed a grimace, although was trying for a smile.

"Be...be strong, Draco." Her grip on him loosened. Her flesh turned icy. Her eyes gradually slipped into oblivion.

"Be strong."

Lucius Malfoy bellowed as a fifth Dementor excruciated the remnants of his soul out of him. He collapsed onto the hard and cold cobblestones of the bridge, his cheekbones slightly prominent. An eerie glow liberated off his pale body, as his shivering limbs ceased trembling.

Just as the last Dementor spun through the air towards him, a pair of icy blue eyes glared into it. Draco had his 10 inches hawthorn wand fixed at its configuration. Pure anger dominated his expression.

"D...Drac.co?" Lucius asked. 

"I'll be strong." Draco whispered to himself.

"Did you just say something, Mr. Malfoy?" Shacklebolt glanced at him with his interested eyes.

 As the Dementor bore into Draco to connect with his feelings and rip them away, Draco amplified his tone. 

"I'll be strong!"

And a mighty silver serpent  escaped the tip of his wand, its skin glistening in the scintilla of sunlight and dug it's fangs into the smoky body of the Dementor, which howled in distraught as it vaporized.

"Expecto Patronum!" He yelled again, as the Serpent throttled out of the remains of the Dementor and hauled itself at the others.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Arthur Weasley and all the Aurors drew their wands.

"You cannot escape, Mr. Malfoy." Shacklebolt warned. "The bridge and the valleys are sealed against Apparition. A protective measure to forbid the Death-Eaters from fleeing. Surrender and we shall show you some mercy."

"Mercy is not an attribute of the strong, Minister." Draco rotated his head and glanced about to observe the Aurors. Not less than 40.

He then returned to Shacklebolt who sighed. "It shall be such a pity to destroy such wonderful potential."

"Believe me, Minister." Draco smirked. "I won't give you the chance." And with these words, Draco cascaded off the bridge.

 Air rushed into his lungs. Pressure rampaged through his veins as his graceful body plummeted towards the ground and hammered into  a pond of water as dark and dismal as the Dementors themselves. 

As his structure shrunk underneath the water, his blood throbbed against his cheeks. He snatched his wand from his pocket, and without any scope for dilemma, dissolved into the bubbles he left in his wake.

Author's Note:
Hey there! Thanks a bunch for reading the Prologue of  Brandy- A Dramione fanfiction. I really hope you loved it. Also, I would really appreciate it if you could encourage your fellow WatPadders to  read it, and if loved, vote for it.

XoXo
Clevator