This story will always be updated on ao3 (i_amtheoutlaw) first and here second. I will update weekly.

betas are both amazing and can be caught here: mirandasprinkle and moonshoespotterr. I seriously couldn't have finished this without them!

disclaimer - I literally own very little of these ideas. Most of this is straight J.K. Rowling. Almost all of the characters - hers. Some of the words - hers. Most of the ideas - hers. I literally just have an obsession with Draco Malfoy - not Tom Felton - and I had to. Some of this also belongs to the BBC Merlin though I can't say which parts without spoiling things.

Draco Malfoy has played a sport while flying on a broomstick. He's dreamed of wearing a cloak of invisibility, always sneered at giants, and seen many different kinds of dragons. All Draco knows is a wonderful life with his parents, who are the best, most magical parents anyone could have. Draco lives in a ginormous manor with lots of room to fly and play in, and he has the most spectacular party on his birthday every year.

But all that is about to change when Draco starts school at Hogwarts: a horrible place out of his worst nightmare. There he learns not only jealousy, loneliness, and what it means to be rejected, but that he has the worst destiny ever waiting on him . . . unless Draco can find a way to beat the inevitable.

Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, of Malfoy Manor, the only residents on Old Wizarding Road, were proud to say that they were perfectly abnormal, thank you very much. They were the first people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they were the heart of such absurdities.

Mr. Malfoy worked at the Ministry of Magic, which ministered all things magical, of course. It was a place many of his ancestors had worked before him. Mr. Malfoy was a tall, thin wizard with a pointy chin and long blond hair. Mrs. Malfoy was just as tall a witch, but thinner and had blonde hair that fell even further down her back than her husband, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time brushing it and pinning it in complicated patterns on top of her head. The Malfoys had a son named Draco and, in their opinion, there wasn't a finer boy anywhere.

The Malfoys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that someone would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mr. Potter was Mrs. Malfoy's best friend when they were very little, but they hadn't been able to say that in years; in fact, Mrs. Malfoy pretended that she didn't have a best friend, because her best friend and his good-for-nothing wife were about as un-Malfoyish as it was possible to be. The Malfoys shuddered to think what anyone would say if the Potters arrived on Old Wizarding Road. The Malfoys knew that the Potters had a small son, too. This boy was the only reason the Malfoys were in contact with the Potters again.

When Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy woke up on the dull, grey Monday our story starts, there was everything about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Malfoy scowled as he picked out his blackest robe for work, and Mrs. Malfoy cursed away silently as she wrestled a screaming Draco into his floating high chair.

All of them noticed a large eagle owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Mr. Malfoy shrank his briefcase and tucked it inside his robes, pecked Mrs. Malfoy on the cheek, and tried to kiss Draco goodbye but missed, because Draco was now having a tantrum and throwing his breakfast back at a cowering house elf's head.

"Little Black," chuckled Mr. Malfoy as he disappeared from Malfoy Manor with a well-mannered crack.

It was on the street corner that he next saw something habitual to him - a crow perched on a sign. For a long moment Mr. Malfoy eyed the creature, but then his face gave way to a devilish smirk. The crow glared back at him. Mr. Malfoy's smirk only grew wider. As Mr. Malfoy began to walk up the road he glanced back one time only to find the crow gone. He had no worries, he knew the bird wouldn't fly too far away today, of all days. As he headed into the thick of the square, Mr. Malfoy thought only of a signature he needed to acquire by later this evening.

On the edge of town, the signature was driven out of his mind by something else. As he set about nabbing a Prophet and every other wizarding newspaper, journal, or magazine from each stand he passed, Mr. Malfoy saw a sight that made him cringe. A young wizard dressed in some sort of muggle pants. He was sure that the boy's father was a pureblood, too. Mr. Malfoy couldn't believe the nerve of some wizards these days. It was sights like this that made Mr. Malfoy want to do things that would land him with a life sentence in Azkaban. He was at the nearest floo point then, and in the next second was strolling into the Ministry with his papers tucked under his arm.

Mr. Malfoy always sat with his back to the window, but never failed to hear the swoop of an owl. He had letters and documents coming in and out all day, but his mind was fixed on his task of getting that one signature. Still, he went about his normal day. He yelled at a few people. He made all six of his floo appointments and shouted some more. He was in a very bad mood until lunchtime, when he heard a familiar rap-tap-tapping on his window. Mr. Malfoy smirked softly as he packed up his papers, shrank his case once more, and made his way out of the Ministry by foot until he could apparate.

He arrived to meet Severus Snape at their usual spot and quickly noticed the other man lurking off to the right. It was hard to miss all that blackness flowing in the wind. Why such a plain, pale man chose to drape himself in such horribly plain clothes always confused Mr. Malfoy. If the man was going to slouch and sneer like he'd been picked on most of his life then he could at least dress in a manner more befitting a wizard of his station. Though Severus Snape had always asked to be picked on, Mr. Malfoy thought; not that Mr. Malfoy himself had ever done any of this picking on . . . much.

The salty air met Mr. Malfoy's nose as he greeted the other man, his friend, with a raised eyebrow. His wife, for some reason, seemed to trust Severus Snape and all his blackness that flowed in the wind, but Mr. Malfoy could never fully bring himself to.

"He has found them," said Severus Snape, his voice cracking on the last syllable. He wouldn't meet Mr. Malfoy's gaze.

Mr. Malfoy's other eyebrow met his already raised one in the middle of his forehead. "Finally. I was beginning to think that the Dark Lord had lost his touch before the show had even started," drawled Mr. Malfoy, knowing this was somehow hard for Severus Snape, but not wanting to make a thing out of it. The possible loss of a blood traitor, his mudblood wife, and his half blood spawn were nothing for a Malfoy to show emotion over. When Severus Snape didn't reply, Mr. Malfoy added as gently as he could, "you knew this was coming. You were in on it the whole time, Severus."

"This was not what I wanted," snapped Severus Snape, and when he finally looked up, Mr. Malfoy saw that the man's eyes were red-rimmed. "Narcissa was supposed to-"

"My wife has already worked wonders here," reminded Mr. Malfoy carefully, fighting against his urge to sigh. "Do not disrespect her by demanding she should have worked miracles as well. Not even the Gods themselves could have dragged those Gryffindors away from their baby and you know it. You even managed to mess everything up by going to Dumbledore, the old fool, and even he wasn't able to protect them it seems. Or did you really think that Lily Potter would reason with Narcissa? Of all the people in the Wizarding World? We had a better chance of saving James than Lily with this plan, even you had to see that. And as for how this whole endeavor started, did you really believe that the Dark Lord would go after the Longbottom child? Really? You . . . the Half-Blood Prince?"

Mr. Malfoy really hadn't meant to spit the words.

Severus Snape opened his mouth but nothing came out for a moment. He closed it, and opened it once again to speak. "Narcissa said-"

"And that's your problem right there." Mr. Malfoy stopped the man before he could go any further. "You spend all your time chasing around after Gryffindors and you never learn how to keep up with us Slytherins."

Severus Snape growled at him.

"Case in point," Mr. Malfoy supplied easily, with only a small chuckle.

"Fuck off, Lucius." Severus Snape rolled his eyes and sighed, finally looking a bit resigned to his fate. "I'm just not a heartless beast like your wife."

"I'll be showing her this memory later, I hope you know that."

"Bastard."

"I thank you for your gracious, but untrue words. Now . . . you know what you have to do, no matter what happens?" asked Lucius Malfoy, for literally the hundredth time. "Whether we get the bloody child? Defy the Dark Lord? Save the Potters? Both of them? Just bloody James? Pull off any of this insane plan that my wife has dragged us into?"

"Yes," Severus Snape hissed and was gone with an angry crack. He always was a poor sport.

Lucius sighed, brushed some invisible dust off his robe, and followed Severus Snape's lead. He headed back to the Ministry with a well-mannered crack. The rest of his day past most uneventfully. Lucius had been expecting the news Severus Snape had brought him for weeks now, so he had no reason to be shaken up about it. Lucius scored his required signature in the nick of time and was on his way home just as it began to grow dark outside.

The crow followed him home and joined the Malfoys for supper. Narcissa Malfoy had her house elves make Severus Snape's favorite because, despite what the man was most likely thinking, she wasn't completely evil. Draco made a horrible mess and his near constant crying was terribly annoying. Though the high pitched sound was certainly better than the pitiful argument his wife and Severus Snape proceeded to conduct the entire meal, Lucius thought.

Halfway through dessert, both men had a painful sensation in their left arm and knew it was time for-as Lucius would say-the main event. Lucius yelled at his house elves, kissed his wife on the mouth, and held his squirming child in place until he managed a brief kiss to the boy's brow. Severus Snape apologized to Narcissa for his harsh, untrue words and pecked her on the hand with his thin lips.

As they disappeared through the floo, Narcissa calmed her son and took him for a bath while the house elves cleaned up her dining room. After that she handed her baby boy to her elf and took a long bath herself.

She reflected over the things motherhood had brought upon her while she bathed. Since when had Narcissa started defying Dark Lords of all things? She had thought life after marriage would bore her. Narcissa should have taken a better look at the man she was marrying, she supposed. Not that she had any regrets, but she should have seen it coming was all.

Of course, Narcissa's life had never once been simple - never quite could be simple. If it wasn't her own siblings stirring everything up, it was some other distant relative power-tripping and causing problems for everybody. This time the root of Narcissa's problems started with her own husband, Lucius, and another fellow housemate, Severus Snape, just being themselves. The two of them had discovered a secret, something that they really shouldn't have, a few months ago. How? because, as true Slytherins, they overheard it by eavesdropping at precisely the right moment. Narcissa couldn't blame them for that. However, the information was very secretive and could be dangerous to a lot of important people, including Severus Snape and the Malfoys.

This information they'd overheard was only sensitive because the Wizarding World was at war. This war had waged between Lord Voldemort and the Ministry for eleven long, long years. At any other time the information would have been taken as a load of dragon dung, but desperate times, desperate measures and all that.

Clearly the Dark Lord-Voldemort, Tom Riddle, or whatever you choose to call him-ran the dark side of things, but there was a lightside of this war, and it wasn't truly the Ministry. No. The Ministry happened to be infiltrated with many like her own husband which secretly bore the Dark Lord's mark. The opposition was led by a great, old wizard named Dumbledore, whose side wished for Voldemort's demise. The Malfoys wanted nothing to do with this side. In fact, they chose to be on the dark side of things. The Malfoys were a very important family, you see, and just couldn't be found on the losing side of a war, and with Lord Voldemort all set to take over . . . it was just a matter of time. It seemed that the Dark Lord couldn't be stopped, and Narcissa would always side with the survivors. Even if they were a bunch of medieval brutes, Narcissa felt her families' lives were worth it.

But Severus Snape, so much like the Gryffindors he'd always meddled around with, wanted to use this information to warn those in risk and help them as soon as possible. Lucius had had other ideas, for Severus Snape's own safety of course. There was no way that Severus had enough power to keep such prominent information from Lord Voldemort for very long and survive it. Severus could barely manage Occlumency against the Dark Lord as it was. Though he had been getting better . . .

Narcissa toweled herself off and waved the tub dry with her wand. Now was not the time to be pondering over Severus Snape's skills. Normally she would be dressing in her nightgown already, but tonight she was expecting company. She dressed in a longsleeved black gown made of thin silk, and then left to finish her hair in her child's room as she waited. Narcissa needed to be near her son in case something went wrong.

Lucius and, in turn, Severus had been at a crossroads with how to move forward with the recently eavesdropped information, until they called in Mrs. Malfoy. Armed with the secret, and with help from her trusty house elf Linky, Narcissa concocted a plan to thwart the person the two of them hated most in the world. Voldemort.

She wasn't joining the light side, it wasn't like that. After all, neither a Malfoy nor a Black would ever risks those odds in a tribe full of Gryffindors, but she would use any means she could to achieve those particular ends, and preferably before her whole family wound up dead or in Azkaban.

The plan hadn't been what her husband had expected, but Lucius raised no objections and actually made improvements to her original idea so that the Malfoys might profit out of the death of Lord Voldemort. Severus, of course, hated the idea but played his part well after a bit of light convincing. It was decided that, in order for Narcissa's plan to be set in motion, Severus had to tell the Dark Lord about what he'd overheard, leaving the next few months risky for all parties involved, except Snape who would be in Voldemort's good graces for once.

Narcissa nearly hissed to herself as she thought about how the idiotic man had thrown the safety she'd handed him out the window by fluttering off to Dumbledore anyway. Like the old wizard would actually save them or something. Perhaps she shouldn't have trusted Severus Snape as much as she had, Narcissa wondered as she finally got the last bit of her spell-dried hair twisted and pinned. Her husband certainly didn't trust Snape past the length of his own nose, but not even Lucius could deny Severus' usefulness.

All of that, however, was the least of Narcissa's worries right now. She had gotten herself quite tangled in this complicated web all on her own. She was an adult and a mother now, she couldn't hang the blame on her crazy family or unstable friends. Narcissa was playing this game with the two most powerful wizards she had ever met. Lord Voldemort was unpredictable, evil, and insane. Dumbledore was just Albus bloody Dumbledore. Her old headmaster, the most intimidating and ridiculous man she'd ever spoken to at any age. Even though Narcissa found herself well-practiced in people with such personalities, this plan was horribly daring for her standards.

It seemed that the Malfoys weren't the only special ones in danger here. There were some important people at risk on the light side as well, and Narcissa's plan could leave all of them dead. Though that mattered very little to Narcissa because of the risks she was taking herself.

It was much, much later when her visitor finally arrived. The wizard just appeared, looking tired but as colorful as he always did. His hair was on fire a bit. He seemed to smell it before chuckling and putting out the flames with a wave of his hand. She watched his every movement in the mirror.

"Narcissa, my dear," his voice behind her said. "You have allowed me through your wards. How thoughtful."

"Dumbledore," Narcissa said as she stood and turned around slowly. She looked to her wide eyed elf who was holding an equally wide eyed Draco tight to her chest. Narcissa waved Linky away and waited for them to disappear before she turned and spoke again. "I was hoping you would stop by."

"The Potters are dead," offered Dumbledore, conversationally, with a sad smile.

"Pity," drawled Narcissa, "and here Severus put all his trust in you to do one thing. Save poor, little Lily Potter."

Dumbledore blinked at her. "I believe he trusted you to do much the same, or have I been mistaken all this time?"

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "Only if you have somehow been acting the blind fool in love just like Severus has."

She had never lied to Severus, not once. She always said that if her plan didn't work then the Potters would surely die, and that they might die even if it did work.

Severus, Dumbledore, the two of them could lie to themselves all they wanted. Narcissa knew how the truth could sometimes hurt, but she had promised never to lie to herself again. She may have been the reason Voldemort chose to attack the Potters so soon,but he would have found out eventually. Or he would have surely killed every last one of them before any of it mattered. That was the truth as she saw it.

Whether or not Severus Snape had told Dumbledore everything after all, the Potters had told him recently, or he just somehow figured it out on his own, Narcissa suspected Dumbledore had known of her plan for quite awhile and would try his best to keep the Potters alive.

Clearly, his best hadn't been enough either.

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and a floating bundle appeared next to him. Narcissa felt something deep inside her unclench as she processed the sight that could only be one living, breathing Harry Potter floating there in the air. Her plan had worked. She had never lied, Lily and James Potter were always variables. Little Harry never was. He lived and Lord Voldemort was as good as dead. Her plan had worked.

"What will happen to the boy now?" asked Narcissa, a little breathless. The three Slytherins had planned to retrieve Harry Potter themselves if the Potters had perished. She didn't need to ask if they'd been stopped by someone in the Order. Her adrenaline covered the sting of failure she would later feel as she watched Dumbledore take the sleeping child into his arms, but Narcissa had enough sense to catch the foreboding essence his gesture carried. Dumbledore was not about to hand the boy over to her willingly.

"I have chosen a place he will be well protected," stated Dumbledore calmly, as if he wasn't stealing a child. Narcissa supposed he had somehow figured out a way that meant he technically wasn't, at least on parchment.

Not that she wasn't ready to do the exact same thing if she somehow managed to get her hands on the boy.

"Touche," she said. "I suppose you will hide him well and bring him out like your shiny little toy when you deem the Wizarding World ready for his presence. Or perhaps you'll just wait until the next dark wizard shows himself and send the child after him when his fate could affect my son as well?"

"Why, Narcissa, why would his fate affect young Draco's as well?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes finally twinkling in that way they usually did.

Her suspicions were true then, Dumbledore could be an evil bastard. She had always wondered how the old wizard managed to get to where he was now.

"Then I suppose that's that, isn't it?" Narcissa said because it was all she could say. "I hope I don't have to point out that I will always do whatever it takes to protect my son. If that means breaking the spell that has been placed on Harry Potter to make him our boy wonder, I won't hesitate to do it no matter the cost."

"I believe when the time comes that will not be necessary," Dumbledore offered and then was gone.

Narcissa called her house elf back and stood there watching Linky try to impress a pissed off Draco with her silly spells. A chill wrecked Narcissa's whole body as she knitted her wards back around Dumbledore's presence. Hours or minutes later, her husband appeared in the doorway of Draco's nursery with a floating, unconscious Severus behind him. He didn't ask why she was dressed up, or why she suddenly looked as though she had single handedly survived a gruesome, terrible war all by herself. All Lucius did was speak to her in that calm tone that always caught her attention. The Potters were killed in the crossfire, but Lily decided to go along with the Malfoys' plan in her dying moments, Lucius explained his side of the story before leaving her to put Severus to bed. If anything, the two of them confirmed what Narcissa already knew, she had certainly won.

Narcissa summoned herself some firewhiskey and fell gracefully into her rocking chair. She took a large sip from the bottle and eyed her son. Draco was mid-air, fussy, and spitting milk all over her house elf. She smiled a sad, sad smile and brought up her bottle in toast. Something besides her achievement suddenly gripped her, and with it came an achy sort of peace. The war was over. They were freed for now.

"To Harry Potter," Narcissa said at her crying son. "The boy who bloody lived."