A/N My take on the Harry Potter world if Harry's generation had been more socialized with each other.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

There were some things that you just couldn't predict no matter how hard you tried. He had known that his side would win. Known. Despite their smaller size, they had brought the world to its knees. Others had cowered and fled before him (as they still did) and no one had dared question anything that he did. Then their leader, a wizard so powerful and feared that people were still afraid to say his name, a man who even the great Albus Dumbledore had hesitated to face, this wizard had to go and get himself offed by an infant. For all his plots and machinations, there was no way that Lucius Malfoy could have predicted that outcome.

It didn't make sense logically or even illogically. If there had been a sign that one of the boy's parents had been responsible, well... getting killed by a blood traitor or mudblood was still a fraction better than being killed by a baby.

His grip on his quill tightened and it snapped. He threw it into the trash where it joined five other broken quills. A part of him still couldn't believe that this had happened. That he'd been forced to drag the Malfoy name through the mud in order to stay out of jail. Malfoys were not victims. His father had all but beaten that rule into his head. Fortunately, the rule 'Malfoys survive at all cost' had been emphasized more. And that's what he was doing right now, sitting in his study with countless books and journals on blood status and births and the integration of mudbloods into wizarding society surrounding him. He was surviving. Malfoys could not not be on top. He'd avoided Azkaban, yes, but the stigma still needed to be erased from his name.

He picked up another quill. It had taken him some time, but he'd finally found the laws and examples he needed. Dumbledore had thought that he had him when he mentioned the correlation between magical births and mixed blood. The old fool had given him texts on the subject and made it a requirement of his parole that he read them all and be able to report on them like he, Head of the Malfoy line, was a mere schoolboy. Narcissa had talked him out of poison, so he'd read the cursed books. He hated to admit that the books presented some evidence and facts that couldn't be faked. Purebloods who were too closely related had a harder time having children and the children they did have were more often Squibs.

It had taken three miscarriages and one stillbirth before his heir was born. He'd had to force both himself and Narcissa to keep on trying. Out of all the purebloods he knew excepting the red-haired blood traitor paupers, most only had one or two children but not for lack of trying. While the Dark Lord had been intent on eradicating those not fit to be wizards, he had also wanted his followers to populate their world with those who were. Few of his followers had been able to, and one of the reasons there were so few women marked was because of this order. Bellatrix and Alecto were infertile. The rest of the women had to deal with the same tragedies that Narcissa had; at least two had Squibs which were swiftly dealt with.

Voldemort had not been pleased. He had told his followers that it was due to mudbloods stealing magic but only the most fanatical and idiotic had believed that. Lucius was neither. Babies and children didn't steal magic. Voldemort had divulged to him in confidence that he had Severus looking into the matter but that had never come into fruition because he'd then gone out and got himself killed. By a baby; it was ironic in a weird sort of way. And then, in the resulting chaos that was war crime trials and keeping out of Azkaban, he'd never got the chance to talk to Severus about the topic. Narcissa did want more children but it would break her heart to have another miscarriage and Lucius couldn't have that. There was Draco to think of.

He pushed 'Laws Concerning the Admittance to Hogwarts of those Lacking Wizarding Blood,' a book written by one of Slytherin's contemporaries, to the side and grabbed a stack of books that he'd risked Azkaban for due to the copious amounts of illegal obliviation he'd done to obtain them. It just wouldn't do for anyone to know that Lucius Malfoy had purchased Muggle genetics books. The top one had what he was looking for so he leafed through it, copied the info, and cited the book.

Dumbledore thought that now that the Dark Lord was gone, he could just retreat back into his hiding place at Hogwarts and let the denigration of their world by Muggles continue. He was wrong. Lucius might not have the power or charisma that the only man he'd willing humbled himself for had, but that didn't make him any less dangerous, didn't mean that he didn't have power or charisma himself. His grandfather and father had both dedicated their lives to the continuation of their line and their world. He would, could, do no less.

His first alliance toward that goal had failed. No matter, he'd go about through a different avenue, one that Dumbledore had made possible the minute he'd taunted him with the books.

The world would know that Lucius Malfoy always landed on his feet.