A/N: THIS DOES NOT FOLLOW CANON. DEVIATION AFTER BOOK FOUR.

AH, salem and good evening to you all. Perhaps you're wondering, what's this? Enemy's been updated? What's happenig her? Well, folks, I will tell you. There is one thing that has been bugging me about Enemy, and it's even something a lot of you (some of you) have brought up.

Why does Adrian hate Leolin so much?

WTF? It feels random! What's his problem? The problem, it turns out, is that even though I always planned for him to be the main antagonist in IKYK, I didn't develop what a twat he is, which made it really confusing when he rolled back into town Hell bent on ruining Leolin's life.

NOT TO WORRY FRIENDS.

I have corrected my error. I'm not saying you have to re-read Enemy of that any of you even will, but if you felt like it, you'd find a more solid foundation for how and why Leolin and Adrian hate each other. So, if you want, enjoy! If not, please disregard and go about your lives. As for IKYK, it's gonna be one hell of a finale, so it's gonna take some time. In the meantime, I sincerely propose you enjoy this.

xx

TSA

Prologue: The Fall and Rise of The House Malfoy

Life—as you well know, dear reader—is strange. For Harry Potter, the boy who lived, it was especially so.

On October Eleventh, seventy-two days after his fifteenth birthday, Harry Potter walked into The Forbidden Forest and prepared to die.

Death had been Harry's companion since birth, always following him, always waiting just out of sight. That was not to say that Death was a malevolent force, always ready to pounce. Quite the opposite, in fact; Death was Harry's oldest friend, and he always waited with open arms to welcome Harry home. On October eleventh, Death stood in the shadows of the forest with Harry, arms outstretched.

For a child barely out of adolescence, Harry fought nobly following the Dark Lord's rise in the graveyard in Little Hangleton the night of the third task. Sadly, in the end it hadn't been quite enough. He'd made a bid for the Hallows and failed, and by the time he trudged into the forest, the Dark Lord stood with Elder Wand in hand.

On October eleventh at a quarter past midnight, Voldemort accomplished what he'd set out to do all those years before; he killed Harry Potter.

However, just as it had been on the night in Godric's Hollow, the Dark Lord's magic rebounded upon itself, and as before, it would be his undoing.

The curse that had been meant for Harry had struck the unintentional eighth horcrux that unknowingly resided inside him instead.

So it was that Harry Potter made the journey that few have made before or since; he'd slipped Death's loving embrace and came hurdling back to the land of the living. He did not move, did not breathe, but he knew at once he'd returned.

"Narcissa!" Voldemort shrieked, "Go see if the boy is dead."

Slowly, carefully, Narcissa Malfoy—mother of the boy Harry perhaps hated most in this world—made her way over.

From where she stood, she could see his chest moving slightly and she leaned down to him as if to check his pulse. Her voice quaked, though her face remained impassive.

"Is he alive?" she breathed. "Is my Draco alive?"

Harry nodded very slightly and she stood.

"Dead, my lord."

Cruel cries and nasty jeers pierced the air, riddling it with their malice. Harry felt a tide shifting, and a desperate fear setting in. Perhaps he had run his course after all. Then Narcissa made a small movement. It was so subtle even he didn't see it. As the celebration ebbed around her, she nodded to her husband.

It had been the smallest and most insignificant of movements, but it was one that would irrevocably change the world.

Lucius raised his wand, his voice rising above the others as he cried, "Avada Kadavra!"

Voldemort, who had been stripped of his horcruxes by Albus Dumbledore before his death, slumped to the group, lifeless.

In that moment the power shifted to Lucius, and he retrieved the Elder Wand with a simple accio. His silver eyes burned, and no one moved.

With a flick of his wrist, Lucius Malfoy became the master of the Elder Wand.

With a flick of his wrist, he had been exonerated from his crimes.

For Harry, Malfoy's motives always remained an insidious and slightly foreboding mystery. After all, Malfoy had never been anything but cruel; now seemed an odd time for his altruism. Still, Harry knew enough not to push.

The world now irrevocably changed, Lucius Malfoy—far from being disgraced—reclaimed his throne as one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in Wizarding Britain.

This, dear readers, is where our story begins. With the demise of the Dark Lord one year in the past, the Malfoy family's rehabilitated honour in full bloom, and Harry Potter's well-deserved reclamation of his normal teenage life. Perhaps it would seem logical to assume that with the Dark Lord defeated, Harry Potter's troubles were finally at an end, and perhaps they were.

On the other hand, life, as we all know, is often quite strange…