(A/N: Here we are then, my dears. We've made it to the end. In just over a year's time, there have appeared exactly 100 episodes of The Pureblooded Antics of Lucius Malfoy, as envisioned by me. They haven't been as successful as a lot of other pieces of fanfiction of far slighter size have been, but that is of no consequence. There has been a small, but singularly devoted audience for them, which is worth an awful lot. As I've said before, I promised myself, thinking I wouldn't get to 20 stories, that I'd stop making them after the 100th. There are, however, things I must consider in keeping this promise. The first is that I, accustomed to making these up at every available minute of the day, already have ideas for a next series; and unexecuted ideas annoy me. The second is that writing these stories has brought about leaps in my development as a comic writer especially, that are invaluable. To stop writing them would alter the direction in which I am heading artistically, which would be good, but maybe also put an end to this particular line, which is undesirable. In any case, it is probable that I shall continue writing them soon, but a pause is now needed, in which I can consider things.

Furthermore, everyone who has ever had an interest in these creations can come to the party I am throwing Tuesday the 25th of January; those who are interested may email me at the address on this site. I will, of course, continue to write other things and publish them on this site, and urge you to keep visiting my profile for new works. For now, though, a fond farewell from your loving and devoted author.)

Lucius Malfoy woke up to the squeals of a house elf downstairs. He looked around, found that Narcissa was already up, arose, and opened the curtains to see the usual crowd of adoring pureblood fanwitches and –wizards. He glared down at them contemptuously for a moment, and, after slipping on his dressing gown, went downstairs. The breakfast room was empty, and there was a large but low-fat breakfast laid out on the table before him. In the distance, the house elf still squealed.

He was just sipping a most perfect cup of tea, when Narcissa came speeding past, looking rather fetching. "Sorry dear," she said, "have to go! That stupid house elf made me late!" and she ran out of the room. Lucius chuckled, and, listening to the far-away whimpers, finished his breakfast, then went upstairs to get dressed. He noticed that his hair and arse were both looking particularly exquisite today, and, smiling ever so slightly, he went down the stairs and outside, and disapparated to the Ministry of Magic.

He was greeted in the entrance Hall by a sobbing mass of wizarding folk, who boo-ed him as he went past. "Bigoted bastard!" someone shouted after him. And then he remembered. That law about disallowing less than purebloods to partake in magical education had passed! He stepped into the elevator with a smile on his face. When he got out and walked towards his office, he passed Arthur Weasley, who was looking desperate.

"And don't come back!" Fudge was calling after him. Then he noticed Lucius. "Ah, Lucius," he said, "just the chap I was looking for. You know, Lucius, I'm rather sick of being Minister for Magic, and I can't help but thinking that you'd do a much better job of it anyway, so.. why don't you take the position?"

"Why, Minister…" Lucius drawled, "I'd be delighted.

"Lovely!" Fudge said, "Office is over there. Tara!" And he walked away. Lucius went into the office and sat down behind the desk, feeling extremely smug. After a few moments, however, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in!" he said, and in came none other than Severus Snape. "Severus!" he exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

"You know perfectly well what I'm doing here," Snape said, stretching himself out on his desk in an appealing manner.

"Well, I do now…" said Lucius, grinning lecherously.

Lucius was about to go home after a tiring day of robbing people of their rights and er, talking to Snape, when he was suddenly stricken by a most urgent pain in his arm. 'What a strange time,' Lucius had time to think, putting on his mask and cloak, before he apparated to the designated place in the deserted valley of a former mine. He looked around, and, sure enough, there was his Lord sitting on a large rock of chalk. He swept over, and knelt down, awaiting his orders.

"Lucius," Voldemort said, slowly, "You know, it's been a difficult time, these last twenty years. And you and I have been through a lot together. You have helped me greatly, and now, as your promotion to Minister for Magic has brought us closer to achieving our goal than we have ever been before, I've realised something." Voldemort paused, gazing down at Lucius with thin, red eyes.

"I really don't think I am cut out for being Master of the Universe." Voldemort said. "I think my true calling has always been a quiet life. A house, a dog, gardening… Yes, that is the life for me…" He paused again, staring into the distance dreamily. "So how would you feel about taking over the business?" he then said.

"Oh, that would be lovely," Lucius said. "My Lord." He added, hastily.

"Oh, stop calling me that." said Voldemort. "Well, that settles it, then. Have fun." And he disapparated, leaving Lucius in the field of stones.

"This," Lucius said to himself, "might be the happiest day of my life."

Then the alarm shouted at him, and he woke up. "DAMN!" he shouted, disgruntled.

THE END.