Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I am making no profit from this story.


I am Draco Malfoy, the only heir to the ancient and pure line of Malfoys. Muggles have known since the time of the ancient Greeks that perfect is only attainable in their minds. That is true, Muggles will never even be able to have a perfect circle. Magic, however, if able not only to provide perfect spheres, but also perfect bloodlines. I am a descendant of perfection.

My father, mother and I are part of the grand scheme to create perfection of earth. The only way this can be obtained is by the removal of those who are impure. Impurity is the presence of any non-magical blood in the direct ancestors for the last millennia. There are no records of the Malfoy line being anything but pure. The ancient records are faulty and there are a few holes in the recent ones, but it has been at least three millennia since there was a non-magical ancestor in my direct line of descent. This merely makes me able to brag about my perfection and forces me to search endless for a wife of equal prestige.

Those who have attained perfection are more than willing to accept those who recognize it. We will not, under any circumstance, accept others with equal perfect blood, but flawed thoughts as being as perfect as those with perfect thoughts, but flawed blood. Of course, the highest perfect one can attain is that of pure blood and thoughts. That means pure blood and the appreciation of purity and the scorn of those who have neither pure blood nor ideas.

Being perfect is not perfect. One with no magical ancestry still beats my score in every test; the majority of the magical world still finds the boy-whose-mother-was-impure-and-friends-are-worse-than-mud their savior. If only they knew the truth.

That is my job. I have been given the task of educating the world. This is my story.


A/N: Yay! Introduction: complete. Now, because you got this far you have to review it. Please? Thanks in bunches for everyone who does.