A/N: I don't know if J.K. Rowling was drunk, high or both when she wrote the epilogue to Deathly Hallows but it blew more than a co-ed spending three weeks in the Caribbean without her boyfriend if you know what I mean. Draco living the married middle-class life-style? To quote a famous medieval poet: "Thou art shitting me." No. No. Draco's far too be enslaved by some nag with a couple of brats running around. I can just imagine daily life at the Chez Malfoy: Big D gets nagged every day by the ball 'n chain, sex is rare and when it does happen both fake the orgasm. In between visits to his mistress he checks for grey hairs and prays to god the wife doesn't find out because the settlement would be murder...

That's not Draco Malfoy, people! Here's an epilogue with a better interpretation of him. Can you dig it, Baby?

Draco strutted onto platform 9 and three-quarters. He had come to settle a feud that should have been settled long ago, nineteen years ago in fact. He wore an Armani muscle that showed off his finely-toned abs and rock-hard muscles. He had not lost a single hair on his head and simply radiated youthful virility. He toted a jewel-studded pimp cane much like his father's. He wore on every finger, thumbs included, dazzlingly stylish sovereign rings bearing the image of Queen Victoria.

"Ooh, Draco," Fleur had purred that morning as he'd left the London brothel where she worked. "When will 'oo come back to me?"

Looking over his shoulder with a George W. Bushesque smirk and a raised eyebrow, Draco said,

"How about never? Is that a good time for you?"

He was due in an hour for his 1st album's launch party. He knew he'd arrive with time to spare. His eyes shone when he sighted his prey. Target aquired! They seemed to be awaiting the Hogwarts express.

The years had not been kind to Harry Potter. Most his hair was gone and had retreated to the sides of his head. He was somewhat hunched over and had developed something of a beer belly. With him was Ginny Weasly with a rather poor dye job and three acne-ridden children.

"...And remember Harry you've still got to fill out those forms and put out the dustbin. Once that's done you've still to fix the door I've been after you for three weeks for! Oh Merlin, what did I do to deserve such a lazy husband?..."

"Dad! Albus Severus is hitting me!"

"You started it!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

Ah, domestic bliss, Draco thought with a cruel smile. Just then, Ron and Hermione showed up with their spawn. Ron's hair had faded to a dull copper which was slowly giving way to grey. Hermione, in contrast to his other old school chums, seemed to be aging somewhat well. Draco gave her an appraising look. Yes, he'd definetly ride her, but only out of pity, mind, for falling in with such a crew of spastics and marrying the biggest of the lot. He moved closer.

"Well, well, the gang's all here. 'Sup, bitches?" He called. The four adults turned and gawked at him in confusion. "What, don't tell me you don't remember the Slytherin Sex God, the student hung like a Thestral?"

"Draco?" Said Ginny.

"Correct! Let's see what our contestant has won!" Then, in a lightning-quick move, Draco pulled his wand out of his cane and pointed it at Ginny hit her square on with her own signature Bat-Bogey Hex!

"Mum!" The Potter and Weasly children quickly moved to Ginny's side and, each child seizing a hand and leg, carried her to safety.

"Now see here, Draco. Hexing my wife is out of order! Apologize at once!" Harry sputtered.

"No, Potty, what's out of order was you rejecting my friendship. A Malfoy never forgives or forgets the smallest insult and I'm here for payback...with nineteen years interest."

"Malfoy, you git, you haven't changed at all." Seethed Ron.

"You're as pathetic as ever." Said Hermione. Draco coldly regarded the out of the corner of his eye, not even bothering to turn his body to face them.

"Ron and the mudblood, eh? Can't say I'm surprised. Mud is a form of dirt and weasles dig in the soil."

Enraged by this insult, Ron and Hermione both shot hexes at Draco. He ducked and countered.

"Stupify!" Ron Fell. "Petrificus Totalus!" As the paralyzed Hermione fell, Draco caught her body.

"It's a shame we never hooked up. We could have ruled the world, doll." Draco whispered in her ear. He then licked the curve of her ear.

Now there was only Harry left. A small crowd had gathered to watch the commotion.

"I'll make you regret this, Draco. Expelli-!" Harry didn't get a chance to finish the spell, as Draco had kicked him square in the testicles. The boy who lived crumpled to the ground. Seeing he had the crowd's rapt attention, he turned to address them.

"Now hear this! A new age has dawned! An age of darkness and misery! For nineteen long years the throne of the British dark lord has been vacant! No more! I, Draco Malfoy, declare myself Voldemort's successor! My Draco Eaters shall enforce my pitiless rule! Together with my allies Necrosis, Dark Lord of America and Gordon MacSweeney, Dark Lord of Canada, we shall divide the globe between us! Let the world tremble!" Draco then apparated, leaving the terrified crowd which quickly began to riot.

That afternoon found Draco at his album's launch party at a Northampton club. He was in a booth with a skimpily-dressed Luna Lovegood sitting on his lap. Running his hands up and down her sides, he whispered in her ear.

"Still hunting the Snorkacks?"

"Oh yes, when I'm not-" Luna let out a gasp as Draco mischievously moved a hand under her top and began caressing her. "-Working for you, of course. I think I'm getting close!"

"You always are. Got my money?"

Luna handed him a wad of pound notes.

Draco smiled.

"There are times when it's just great to be me."