-Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all characters are the creation and sole possession of JK Rowling.

- I do however thank her for allowing her brilliance to be dabbled with in the twisted little place that is my

- imagination.


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-I am Lucius


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I am Lucius, Lucius Malfoy. Wizard. Pure blood. Wealthy. Handsome. I know all the right people, have all the right connections. I can make things happen with a snap of my fingers or a twist of my wand. Lesser wizards quake in my presence, jump to do my bidding at my slightest whim. I hold a spot in the innermost circle of the greatest, most fearsome wizard to ever live.

Most would presume to believe that I and my family want for nothing.

They would be wrong. Dead wrong.

My family is marked you see, my wife and I surely will be dead within the hour, likely our son shortly after, for she has committed the most dangerous betrayal, to the deadliest wizard imaginable.

The Dark Lord.

Voldemort.

You see, my wife, Narcissa, has just told Lord Voldemort that his arch enemy Harry Potter is dead when the truth is, he is quite alive and quite well. I saw for myself when I thrust his glasses back on his very still and deathlike face, the calm pulse throbbing in the hollow of his throat. If I was going to walk out of this alive that would have been the time to speak, to perhaps even save my wife by pretending his heart had just begun to beat again, and yet I remained silent for when I stood again and looked into Narcissa's eyes I understood immediately why she had lied to Lord Voldemort.

It is all because of a teenage boy, our teenage boy, our Draco, who, despite his cocky bravado over the past months, is waiting in the nearby castle for his mother and father to come and save him from the nightmarish horror that has become his life. The innocent child that didn't ask for this life of ugliness and darkness, but had it forced upon him due to foolish decisions his father made nearly thirty years ago.

Lucius Malfoy, his father, the man who has marked us all for death, the fool who is now part of a procession of bandy revelers celebrating the death of the boy who lived. The boy who is even now likely working out in his mind how to bring down the Dark Lord once and for all. I don't care if he lives or dies, Harry Potters life means nothing to me, my only hope is that Narcissa and I might be able to escape the wrath of Voldemort before he realizes we have betrayed him.

Obviously Narcissa and I don't join in the celebration, choosing instead to somberly follow the sobbing half giant Hagrid. I feel an odd sense of curiosity welling up inside me over the pain that pours from the man at the "death" of Harry Potter, and I can't help but wonder how he can even move when his sobbing and blubbering is so profound.

Next to me Narcissa jumps into my arms with a small scream when the giant unleashes his grief and rage on the centaurs who had refused to help defend Hogwarts. It crosses my mind to wonder, if they had known the boy would fall, would they have done anything different? Would they have joined Harry Potter in his attempt to bring Lord Voldemort to his knees?

Probably not. These centaurs have historically been known to be an island unto themselves, claiming the forbidden forest as their very own.

Then my thoughts shift to me and I can't help but wonder... Had I known thirty years ago that the price I would pay for my decision to live the life of darkness would be my own life and the lives of those I loved, would I have done things different or made different choices?

I'd like to think I would do everything different. That I would resist the temptation of the Dark Lord and the sweet seduction the the dark arts. Ah but it is a heady temptation and nearly irresistable, that forbidden sweet darkness that enticed me to walk down the path of sugar coated barbed-wire that I tread this day. I was only a lad when I took my first steps, encouraged by my father who had taken his first steps when he was but a lad. But to say one would resist and to actually resist are two very different things, two very different actions, one much more difficult than the other.

Knowing this temptation as I do, it is enough to give me a grudging respect for the Potter boy, knowing that his power is as great as that of the Dark Lord, yet his resistance to the darkness is even more powerful. To have never once stumbled even once into the darkness is an admirable feat indeed.

Harry Potters position is anything but admirable now however as his friends pour out of Hogwarts now and their eyes immediately lock on his limp body laying in Hagrid's arms. It is fortunate for Potter that no one is looking at him as he flinched slightly the moment the Weasley girl screams out her grief, I imagine her pain must be considerable, Draco told me they had been "together" last spring. I don't have time to ponder it though, just seconds later Hagrid is ordered to lower him to the ground at Voldemorts feet "Where he belonged"

If I had not known before it would have been clear to me now how much the Potter boy had meant to Hogwarts, how much he was loved. The grief on the faces of the boys and girls facing down Voldemort is palpable, a living breathing monster that threatens to sweep down and consume all of us who had taken the smallest role in his "death". I resist the urge to run by searching the crowd for the faint hope of my sons face.

But Draco's face is nowhere among the faces of Hogwarts students, I knew he wasn't likely to be, but I had hoped. My eyes move back to the Potter boy laying "dead" on the ground. But now all I see is confused...in my fear for my own son, Potters face has become Draco's face, Potters body has become Draco's body. I can't bear to look another second, I close my eyes and a shudder races up my spine as my throat is filled with bile. I sense Narcissa has seen the same because suddenly she is in my arms, begging me for some kind of comfort. I give her the little that my quaking body can spare, but I am so afraid myself.

Yes I, Lucius Malfoy, the pure blood, the wealthy one, the handsome one, the one with all the connections and has all he could ever want, is afraid.

In fact at this moment I am scared to death. But it is not for me that I fear, or even Narcissa, but for our Draco, our son, our only child.

I am afraid that my wife and I will never see him alive again. It feels like it has been days since we last saw him, even longer since we last saw him genuinely happy, and that is my fault. I find myself holding back tears as I beg GOD to give me another chance to do things right, for Draco, for Narcissa, for myself.

I hear the excitement in front of me, the shouts of the battlers from Hogwarts standing up and shouting in defiance of the Dark Lord. It isn't until I hear the thud of Nagini's head at my feet followed by the voice of Hagrid booming out that I am able to open my eyes again.

" Harry?! Where's Harry?!"

I hold Narcissa, knowing this must be it, the end. We close our eyes, waiting for Voldemort to spin around, the scream of Avada Kedavra, and the jet of green light.

But it never comes.

Instead, Narcissa and I buffeted inside by the rush of crowding bodies, both student and death eater alike. Voldemort and Bellatrix are both far away on the other side of the great hall and somehow, through some kind of extreme grace, Narcissa and I have been forgotten. I look at Narcissa in disbelief and she gives me a small smile, the kind that carries a trace of the innocent eleven year old girl I first met on the Hogwarts Express so many years ago.

I reach out and take her hand and together we run from the great hall to search for the one thing that we cherish above anything else. The thing that we have so badly neglected for too many years. The thing that we haven't valued or known how precious it was until we have recently been faced with its loss.

We went to find the one that we had signed our lives away for less than an hour ago, the one we would sign our lives away for again without a second thought.

Our Draco.

Our Son.

Hand in hand we run up the high stair cases and up and down the stone hallways. All around us are the signs of the battle, torn up mortar, broken walls, broken suits of armor lay here and there along with a dead spider or two. Now and then there is a pool of blood with a trail dragging away from it. These stop us and sent a bolt of fear directly through us, it is too obvious that someone died in this very spot.

For the first time since this all began I begin to see slightly beyond Draco, I realize that there must have been children his age who died at Hogwarts tonight. I realize then that I hate Voldemort like I have never hated anything ever before in my life.

Wev'e barely started to move on to the next floor when we hear a womans voice yelling loudly.

"Not my daughter you bitch!"

Followed by Bellatrix in her demented high pitched laugh.

Narcissa smiles nervously "That sounds like Molly Weasley"

I take her hand and we move away from the most recent pool of blood, and just as we turn the corner at the end of the hallway we hear Molly Weasley again

"You will never hurt our Children Again!"

This time Bellatrix's high pitched laugh is cut off abruptly and seconds later we hear Voldemort himself scream, unearthly, inhuman.

"Come, we need to find Draco, I've a notion this will be decided soon."

Narcissa takes my hand and we follow two more twisting hallways, up and down two more flights of stairs and then the mothers eye catches something that my eye would have run right past. A small black shape hunched low in a small alcove where a suit of armour would normally stand.

Narcissa stops me with a hand on my arm and hunches down to sit on her knees. She reaches out with her hand gently and I notice in a distracted way that all of her blood red painted fingernails have broken off on both hands at the tips of her fingers. I can't help the tiny smile, remembering how one time Narcissa had refused to go to a luncheon with me because one of her nails had chipped at the last minute.

I guess we both needed to look at our priorities.

Draco jumps t his mothers touch, instantly falling into her arms to hug her, hen he seems to freeze over as if a dementor had just flown over him. He looks at me and gives me a nod.

"Father, glad to see you are well."

His hair and face were black with soot, as if he were in some kind of fire, and deep wide clean tracks had been made down his cheeks, the boy had obviously been crying considerably.

"You as well" I nodded back, falling into old habits "Where are Vincent and Gregory?" Both Crabbe and Goyle had fallen to the Hogwarts defenders and I felt it was my duty to tell their sons that their fathers had perished.

"Cra... " he stumbled over the words, as if they were choking him. "Crabbe went crazy ...he...he tried to kill Potter. He betrayed me."

"Where is he now?"

"He's dead, He set a fire in the room of requirement. Goyle...I don't know what happened to him..."

I'm a loss for what to say, I just do what feels right and step forward and put my arms around him.

"If it hadn't been for Potter's playing hero ...I'd be dead now..."

"It's okay Draco" I say softly when I hear him trying to stifle his tears "It's okay to be upset right now."

From down below we hear the final screams of battle.

Expelliarmus!

Avada Kedavra!

Draco straightens up and wipes his face

"So...who do you think..." I say with a deep sigh

Draco sighs "It has to be Potter. Isn't it always Potter who comes out on top?"

I smile a little as we begin to walk to the great hall, Draco walking

between his mother and I, just like when he was a little boy and held our hands. Were all obviously nervous about the reception we will receive of course, but anxious to be around people who are NOT death eaters none the less. It's a small step, but its a first step out of the darkness and into the light.


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-Thanks To A True Marauders Heart for the idea for this extended version!!


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-Please please pretty please review me or else I am going to cry even worse than Moaning Myrtle and I don't even have my own private U-bend!!!!!


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