In the year 1984, there was a world unbeknownst to the majority of the human race was recovering from a devastating and hellish era of fear and war. It was 4 years prior on Halloween that this terror of the world was destroyed by a 15month old boy and the price of many lives including his parents. The innocent child was sent away from his world to the one of his Aunt, to never know what he really was until he was 11, when he would be told that he was in fact a wizard and not only a part of their magical world but the savior of it. There wasn't a magical child alive that didn't know his name.

A young lad of four, the same age as the famous Harry Potter grew up to loathe that name for it set back his father's plans of power and temporarily caused shame to his family name of Malfoy. He also learned to respect it for it was powerful. He was currently shopping with his dear mother, the one who told him to respect the name Potter for it was deep, pure and powerful, just misguided. She was presently discussing fashion styles with her very influential and wealthy friends at a late lunch, they were rather pretty for their ages and loved to croon over his fine aristocratic godly looks. They would pet his baby soft silvery blond hair and gush over his large silvery eyes. Currently his silvery eyes were scanning the crowds; he often found watching the others of Diagon Alley entertaining. He laughed softly to himself as he saw people barter stupidly-honestly one only barters when selling not buying. Didn't they know that? He was looking towards the Quidditch Shop; he loved quidditch; when he saw the most beautiful creature.

She looked so tiny, younger than him in her faded yellow robes; she was very proud of them and twirled around once ever so often. Her crimson curls were cutely done in full pigtails that danced about her little head. He could see from this distance the soft sprinkle of freckles that dusted her creamy skin and rosy cheeks just below her eyes. She had the biggest brown eyes-no not brown more of a chocolate deep and doe like, surrounded by long full lashes. She looked like an angel among them.

"Mother," he called softly never taking his eyes of his angel

Narcissa Malfoy looked upon her son, who often didn't not speak in such meetings, with curiosity. "Yes Draco, what it is?"

"I've found the witch I wish to marry Mother." She laughed softly at her son's profession towards the little fae like child with the blood red hair and robes of pale spring sunlight.

"Oh and how do you know? She is quite beautiful but what if she is not a-"

"How can you not know she's a pureblood mother? I can tell from here she the very model of a pure witch."

Narcissa gazed intently at her enchanted son and then turned to the pretty little witch that had him taken at before he even liked to speak to girls, let alone have a wife.

Draco was right, there was something about that child that screamed pure and powerful blood, she couldn't quite place it but knew for certain she didn't have a clue on who she was. Her parents were definitely not Slytherins or on the side of the Dark Lord during the War, perhaps they were from France, or at least her mother was. Northern France, British France for the girl seemed to be born and bred British which was also a good sign. Maybe she's Scottish or Irish, she has the red hair.

"She looks close to your age; perhaps you shall see her when you attend school at Hogwarts."

"I do hope to see her before then Mother it is so far away."

"We shall see Draco, we shall see."