[ EU ] Draco Malfoy , of house Slytherin defeats James , Lilly , and Harry Potter who have somehow ended up ruling the wizarding world with fear .

Another raspy cough, the product of age and thousands upon thousands of Dementor visits. For sixty years, Draco Malfoy has lived upon this rock serving a full sentence for the murder of a valueless Mudblood, half a lifetime spent wasting behind stone walls hearing naught but the wailing wind, a sound that shall never leave his memory, a haunting deeper than the taint of the Dark Lord ’ s mark. 
 
 Would that he could hold his wand once more. 
 
 “ Avada Kedavra, ” he hisses, a private joke and mantra, a balm for his psyche. 
 
 The Killing Curse had failed him on the Hogwarts astronomy tower those long years ago when he had Dumbledore at his mercy, yet hadn ’ t the life experience to tap into the wells of hatred and malice as needed to fuel such a curse. It was a fool ’ s errand, sending him after the old man, and he, like the fool he was, had taken it on only to fail in the end. 
 
 They ’ d called it cowardice then, his aunt Bellatrix cackling as the Dark Lord ’ s torture curses had bitten into his flesh. 
 
 He ’ d have no trouble fueling the curse now. 
 
 Potter. 
 
 The name inspires a thousand hateful images -- the toothy smile of the triumphant hero, the smirk on his Mudblooded friend ’ s face as she pushes another reform bill through the Wizengamot, the incessant, imbecilic taunts of the red-haired Blood Traitor… 
 
 Oh, things had started so happily, all glee and Gryffindor celebrations, flowing Butterbeer and celebratory toasts, then sweeping reforms to remake society into the Potter ideal as he and his disciples had risen fast in the Ministry, allowing the insufferable, buck-toothed harpy to push through legislation outlawing blood-status discrimination and “ hate crimes, ” as if the lesser-blooded sub-humans had any place in polite society. Traditions had not fallen so much as had been sundered utterly -- House Elves freed, Goblins and Centaurs brandishing their newfound `` rights,'' the greatest of the families such as his being made to pay “ reparations ” and give up their hard-earned hereditary titles and seats, being made to scrape and beg in the dirt like commoners. It was tyranny every bit as pernicious as the Dark Lord's, but the masses had failed to see it as such. 
 
 Worse, it was a bloodletting as the blind and powerless rallied to the Potter banner, falling to the Potter ideal, allowing their magical blood, their birthright, to become tepid and weak through the Potter revisions. 
 
 And then, one All Hallow ’ s Eve, he ’ d brought Them back through some unconscionable necromancy, weaving an impossible tale to the benighted masses about Cadmus ’ s Stone and the Deathly Hallows, about having mastered Death itself. And the public had fallen in line, cheering heartily as James Potter and his Mudblood wife, buried decades before, smiled beside him at that podium, standing before them bold as brass, and not one of the fools recognized them for the abominations that they were. 
 
 These same simpletons, who had reviled the Dark Lord for defeating death, had now cheered Potter for same. 
 
 It ’ s little wonder that the revolution had begun that day. 
 
 He coughs yet again, wiping spittle from his mouth with a hand twisted by the cold and damp. 
 
 They ’ d failed in the end, Malfoy's opposition, after six long years of struggle. He takes comfort in it ’ s having been a close thing. Though he ’ d suffered defeat at Potter ’ s hand, the man ’ s hold on power had fractured beyond repair, his friends lying dead, the Mudblood abomination lifeless at his feet. *Avada Kedavra. * 
 
 The Potter men ’ s wroth was legend, landing him in this place, but the damage was done. In his remaining years, Potter could do naught but watch helplessly as his world unraveled about him, his greatest achievements falling to time and entropy, the great equalizers. 
 
 News of Potter's recent death had reached him here, bringing the first smile to his lips in over half a century. 
 
 He takes another sheet of parchment and dips his quill into the inkpot. 
 
 “ An Authoritative History of the Potter Tyranny, Chapter Seven: The Aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts…. ” 
 
 Draco Malfoy would have his victory, of that he was certain. 
 
 Edit: typo
