A/N - hello all and happy new year. Here is a short (8) chapter story that's been gathering dust and I thought I'd share to welcome 2022 (cannot believe it's 2022 and I don't have any of the cool things the Jetson's said we'd have. Although I do have a robot vacuum now, not as useful as Rosie, but I don't have to vacuum now. Still a win.

I am cross-posting this on AO3 with the same name, if you prefer that format. I'll attempt to update at least twice a week, but no promises once work starts again on Tuesday.

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Draco Malfoy spent the morning trying to avoid the numerous witches vying for his attention. To their dismay, none appealed to him. Of those who were acceptable, the ones with an enjoyable personality lacked the attractiveness to be considered a Malfoy. And pretty ones, their intellect rivaled the rocks laying around Black Lake. The wizard, stuck until the summer and his mother's socials, parties, and balls brought appropriate witches from the continent, lamented his fate.

He sighed thinking of his family history and realized why Malfoy men typically went abroad for their wives. His father's selection of Narcissa Black sent shock waves through society, no Malfoy married a British witch in at least six hundred years. However, it seemed as if Lucius lucked out and ended up with the only acceptable witch in all of the British isles.

After acknowledging the distinct lack of options, Draco planned to spend the rest of the day in the library. He would have gone for a fly, planned to even, but the weather suddenly took a turn for the worse and the early spring gale currently blowing outside made any outdoor activity dangerous. Unlike flying, a solo endeavor, time in the library could be interrupted by any number of reasons. To ensure his arrival remained under wraps, Draco cast a personally created cloaking charm and waited for someone to make their way into the large room.

His wait lasted only a few minutes before two of his most unrelenting stalkers, er housemates appeared. "No Pansy I don't know where he went. If I did, do you really think I'd be walking the halls with you? No, I wouldn't, so my guess is he took refuge in the library." Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson started tracking him like prey a few weeks earlier, it now drove the wizard batty.

If he wanted either of his housemates, they would already knew it. Their arrival and subsequent entrance into the library gave Draco the chance to slip in behind them. The wizard grinned a bit since the object of their hunt was within striking distance and they were none the wiser.

After the two witches split up to cover the library more quickly, Draco stood in the corner and waited for them to leave. Their search only took about ten minutes, telling Draco they didn't do a very good job, before they left to continue the hunt elsewhere in the castle.

As he was still invisible, Draco sighed again. A Malfoy is expected to remain unaffected by those around him. At least that's what Lucius said, the same man who three days earlier was plastered across the Prophet's front page. He ran into a muggleborn on Diagon and instead of apologizing, it was his fault after all, or just continuing on his way, Lucius opted to start screaming at the man.

The bloody paper quoted him saying, "mudbloods had no place in the magical world". It was his childhood all over again. Even with Lucius's incredibly insensitive behavior. Draco was expected to not react to anything around him. It was a double standard if you asked him, but no one did.

Waiting for a few others to leave the library, Draco began making his way towards the farthest corner of the room and an area almost hidden by shelves and a thin layer of dust telling him not even Madam Pince prowled these stacks.

It was Draco's favorite spot in the whole library as it gave him the solace he couldn't achieve anywhere except on his broom. After turning a number of times, and knowing he was well away from the more populated area, Draco cancelled his spell. When he made the final turn towards his goal he found his second worse nightmare settled at the table reading a large tome.

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Hermione Granger needed to escape from the Tower. She looked forward to getting some quiet time after hearing the majority of the older students planned to be outside for the day flying. That dream went up in smoke, much like Seamus's potion grade, as soon as the first flash of lightening and roll of thunder occurred.

The tower gave the lions a bit of an advantage on the weather front. However, this inconvenient change in the outside conditions forced Hermione to pack her things and leave before anyone tried to chat her up with their quidditch knowledge or, the more likely scenario, guilt her into helping them with homework.

Anyone with any sense knew Hermione Granger was done being the private tutor for the Gryffindor house. One of the disastrous results of her rare appearance in the common room was a significant drop in the number of house points. The professors always took away points for incomplete homework, but when they noticed a trend, the number of points the professors deducted for each transgression began to tick upward.

While being bothered to teach her housemates who decided to ignore their professors annoyed her, she hated flying and found quidditch to be a tiresome exercise. She didn't consider it exercise as the entire sport consisted of players sitting on their arse and flying around on an over juiced broomstick. The only players that filled out their jerseys were those that took the time to really exercise. There were a few wizards in sixth and seventh year Hermione enjoyed watching. None played for Gryffindor and the most impressive wore the silver and green uniform in a way that made Hermione drool.

Not that she thought about the Slytherin players often, they had a game the day prior and Hermione happened to notice how well their jerseys extenuated their chests. She tried to not think about the britches and how tightly they cupped the players backsides. Luckily the rest of the kit hid the most juicy parts and made it easier for Hermione to ignore when they would bend over their stick.

Shaking her head from the thoughts of tight pants and form fitting jerseys, Hermione arrived to her favorite place in the entire school with no fuss and wound through the stacks to her favorite corner. She already finished her assigned work, with the spring holidays starting soon, the professors opted to not assign additional work at the moment, but started to remind students to revise the topics from earlier in the term.

With the lack of classwork, Hermione found herself at a bit of a loose end. She could start reviewing the last sections covered during the final term or even get a jump start her studying timetables for the year end tests, but she wanted a bit of break. She found sixth year a bit more difficult and that coupled with her friends need for constant supervision, started to prove to be a bit of a task. She needed some time to herself.

Hermione desired to read something interesting and not related to school work. That didn't mean lacking in educational value. Her original plan included finding a history of magical politics book Percy Weasley mentioned over the Yule break. Percy was dull, but he had a knack for politics and said the book would help Hermione understand how the Ministry got to where it was.

Hermione started asking why things occurred in certain ways and Percy began talking about the distant history before he realized it would be wrong approach. "Hermione, I'm more than willing to discuss the history with you, however, I also know you prefer to be a bit more prepared. So instead of listening to me lecture on the importance of government, I recommend you read the autobiography of Ulick Gamp. He led our world to move from the loose confederation known as the Wizard's Council, to the much more stable government we know enjoy."

Hermione nodded and quickly agreed with his idea. In fact, she greatly appreciated how aware of the world Percy turned out to be. A couple of his siblings were less aware of not only the world but those around them.

As she searched the appropriate section, Hermione found a much more interesting book sorted incorrectly. She flipped through the first few pages finding the topic more intriguing than why Gamp decided to change the Wizards' Council's name. Hermione figured the change was entirely related to the fact Gamp became the first Minister of Magic. She doubted the book would state it as bluntly, but it might make for a good debate over the summer.

However, this new book seemed to be an anthology on the rise of squibs and how the magical community reacted to them. It wasn't as old as some of the books housed on the shelves, but it seemed to be at least fifty years since publication. It was a topic Hermione knew about, but never had the opportunity to discuss. She returned to her nook and settled at the desk before opening the book. As she did when truly enthralled in something, she lost track of time and didn't hear anyone approaching her haven.

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"Blast it all to Hades. How did Granger find this place?" Draco wasn't exactly quiet in his mumbling complaints and noticed the witch's lack of response to the rude comment. "Granger?" The witch responded with a little hum reminding Draco of his mum when she was focused on something important. It was an uncomfortable feeling for the wizard.

Narcissa Malfoy would have a fit worthy of her family name if she realized her own son compared her to a muggleborn. That simply wasn't done. Taught from a very young age, Draco believed he was better than all others in the magical world. He was the product of centuries of breeding and stood to inherit the seat of two of the most hallowed families in all of wizarding Britain. Every other wizard was second class and very few witches would be worthy of his attention. And muggleborns, well it's best to not even think too much about them.

Shaking off the disconcerting thought, Draco returned his focus to the witch whose back was still towards him. Unable to stop his mind, Draco noticed Granger's hair was quite similar to his aunt's just a different color. The second connection made him shudder. "Granger" he again said, this time with a bit more force and louder. The witch jumped, spinning to see who found her secret domain.

Draco didn't allow the witch a moment to respond before he opened his mouth again. The words that came out weren't what he intended, he wanted to know how she'd found his hidden study corner but instead he asked,"What has you so enthralled you ignored me?"

Hermione Granger sighed at seeing Draco Malfoy. He was an attractive wizard to watch as he flew or at meals before games in that chest hugging jumper or occasionally think about in the privacy of her room, but in reality he was a jerk who believed he was better than every other person at the school. He made no qualm about telling Hermione she wasn't as special as he was.

Hermione realized early on Draco wasn't the worst wizard in Britain, no that honor went to his rotter of a father. After reading the week's worth of articles about Lucius's tirade in Diagon and his verbal diarrhea about his beliefs of muggleborns, Hermione thought over her interactions with Draco since they were eleven. While the younger Malfoy never told her she didn't deserve to be a witch, he did make it clear she wouldn't be very successful in life. It didn't take Hermione very long to discover what she considered a successful life and that of Draco Malfoy were wildly different.

Draco believed a successful woman would want to be like his mum. Narcissa Malfoy held a great deal of power within their social circle and commanded it as any high powered CEO would. She was a legend and idol to some of the witches at the school with her poise, fashion sense and party planning ability. Hermione, on the other hand, wanted to do something meaningful, something that would make the wizarding world a better place.

It was a big topic and it took her years to bring it into focus. She finally decided she wanted to help those whose voices had been lost in their world. She didn't need parties or pretty dresses and more importantly, she didn't need to court the Pansy Parkinsons or Daphne Greengrasses of the world. She would be in the trenches finding where she could help the most and actually doing it instead of just being there for the pictures.

"It's a book Malfoy. Perhaps you are familiar with them?" Hermione glared at the blond boy before turning back to the book in question and picking up where she was before being interrupted. She got one sentence read before the blond ponce spoke again.

"Yes, I'm aware of what they are. This isn't the only library with which I'm intimately familiar. In fact the one in the Manor is about the same size, but has more books." He loved to rub the fact his home was such a grand place in everyone's face. Very few people in the school, or society in general, could compete with the opulence of his family's main home.

When she didn't respond, it made him curious, "What about that particular book is so riveting Granger. I've not seen you so wrapped up in anything and we've been at school for almost six years now." Hermione sighed and looked up. She was surprised to see the boy now sitting in the seat across from her, she missed him moving. He did have a certain swagger she didn't mind watching from behind.

"It's a review and commentary on squibs. It's not really a topic taught at school and since it's such a sensitive topic for magical families, it's something I haven't had the chance to learn." Hermione turned back to the book, hoping Malfoy would leave her be.

"Yes, sensitive is a good way to describe it. I overheard my Grandmother Black talking about squibs once. It was when I was younger. She said she would prefer to have a miscarriage than carry a child without magic. It never sat well with me, if I'm honest." The comment intrigued Hermione.

"Since I was raised in a world without magic, I don't think I would have any problems raising a child without magic. But I think that is just the difference in our upbringing." Draco hummed a bit in response, while Hermione continued without pause. "The book actually made the point there have been no occurrences of squibs in families with muggleborns. I guess that sort of statement can't be validated very easily. The author does say his conclusion was driven by both official documentation and rumors, for what that's worth." Hermione waited to see if the boy would respond before returning her focus to the book.

"Squibs are a topic rarely discussed in private, but most assuredly never in the public sphere. I've been told my family, at least the Malfoy line, has never had one, but who knows how accurate that really is. Father is very concerned with how we appear, at least that's what he taught me."

Draco scowled thinking about the stupid Prophet and their annoyingly accurate depiction of who his father actual was. "He would never admit to having a squib if it had happened. I wouldn't even be able to figure out where to start."

Draco began to feel even more uncomfortable as his statement died on his tongue. Hermione swallowed her snort at the comment about Lucius, his well documented beliefs didn't need to be rehashed. "This is more my conclusion based on what I've read so far, but it seems instances of squibs prior to the Statue of Secrecy were rare, and possibly rare enough they didn't happen. It was only a decade or two after the Statue before squibs were noted as a problem."

Hermione wasn't really talking to Draco, more just about what she was reading and found it nice to not have people interrupting her thoughts with random questions or sneering at her choice of topic. "That —" Draco paused not really knowing how to say what he was thinking, "— That is interesting."

He paused again, "I may not know if there have been squibs in the Malfoy line, but there are rumors from the other families." Draco stopped and began to mumble about grandparents and great grandparents for a bit. Hermione, sensing the chance to learn a bit more about the magical equivalent to the British Monarchy and peerage, sat silently watching the boy.

"That timing, the statue in 1692, the first squib I'm aware existing was in the Flint line about ten years later. I'm sure you are aware of the importance my family puts on it's own history." As Hermione bit her tongue, she noticed Draco's eye roll at the statement.
"Yes, I'm more than aware. If you hadn't made the point many times over the years, your father's recent extra-curricular soliloquy in Diagon regarding the stature of the Malfoy line made it obvious. That said, what does that have to do with you knowing the first recorded squib was a Flint born in 1703?" Hermione found the reference in the book a moment earlier, but Draco gave the impression he'd never seen it before.

"Family trees mainly, Father required me to learn our history back to when Armand Malfoy crossed with William the Conqueror. He was the first Malfoy on British soil and the family has been here ever since. Once I finished, I learned the Black family history. Mother felt it important as I am the heir apparent to the House and the Lordship will fall to me when I turn seventeen this summer. Let me tell you, that one … the difficulty increased tenfold. The Blacks have been around since the Middle Ages. Traditionally they were a very large family having multiple children each generations. Those children married into all the famous families. Multiple times I might add."

Hermione giggled a bit at the added comments on his family's tendencies. Draco again rolled his eyes at the witch and gave into a little boast. "And after the Black family, it was the trees for the rest of the sacred twenty-eight. I, at one point, could recite everyone's family history back to the middle ages or their arrival in Britain, depending on which was older. Not sure I remember it all now."

"That sounds like a riveting way to practice memorization skills, but I will admit to having a bit of knowledge about the Black family tree. Harry's godfather was a Black until he was kicked out of the family when he was still at Hogwarts." Draco, intrigued on Hermione's tenuous connection to his family, started to work out the identity of Potter's godfather.

"Sirius told us stories about the loops in the Black family tree. It's why he married a half-blood, at least that was what he said. Marlene's mum was a muggleborn, but I guess there was some old link between the Blacks and McKinnons on the tree, since they are sacred twenty-eight as well, but they've not had any problems with children."

Hermione shrugged thinking about those kids, Marlene was the only child of the only son and with Sirius being kicked out of his family, the couple decided to give the children the last name McKinnon to continue that family name.

"Yes, I remember when the first son's birth was announced, I was eight or nine and my mother's ire required my father to replace a few vases. I guess Sirius is technically the last Black male who could pass on the name and his first child was a son. I don't know how that works since Aunt Walburga burned him from the tapestry, but I wasn't going to ask."

"That was probably a good idea. Sirius said the howler he received from your Mum was quite vicious but he'd also received a lovely note from Andromeda." Draco nodded, he knew about his other aunt but again, it was something not discussed.

"Do you know my aunt? I just know the name and her crime." He shrugged knowing it sounded bad, but that was how his grandmother referred to the actions causing another Black, her daughter no less, to be removed from the family. Hermione noticed the slight discomfort in the boy and wondered if he really was as he appeared. It was the second time in the conversation he seemed more like a boy than the git she knew since they were eleven.

"Yes, I know her, her husband and daughter too. Tonks is hilarious. She's a metamorphmagus and Andi claims it was inherited from the Black family. I guess human transfiguration is one of the hallmarks of the family, traditionally anyway." Draco's expression was humorous to Hermione, he seemed genuinely shocked. "I always wondered if that was why when Moody cursed you it was such a smooth transition. From what I read afterwards it should have been more difficult."

"Let's not talk about that. Ok? It bloody-well hurt and Professor McGonagall was the only one who was offended." Draco was still pissed about that, the arse was on a one year contract since their regular professor took the year off for some research. With more than a bit of contrition, Hermione dropped her head.

"Sorry, I didn't think about that. I … anyway, sorry." He didn't talk about it, because what good would it have done. Lucius got rid of the man within the day, but no one ever asked how he was. The boy rolled his head and took a few deep breaths before bringing the topic back around.

"So my cousin's a metamorphmagus? That is a rare and highly desirable talent, it's been generations since one was in the family, in fact …" Draco paused as he worked through the family tree "… It's been at least five generations. The last one on the tree, supposedly a bastard at birth, only remained in the family because of his adoption, by his father's wife, allowed the name to carry to the next generation. Apparently the babe was quite the scandal, Mum wouldn't tell me anything other him being adopted, I worked out the rest for myself. I think her veiled comments mean the mother of the child was not considered appropriate. The issue for the family was the baby was magical and none of the other children in that generation were, so they couldn't risk giving up the only one with magic."

Hermione said nothing and Draco continued his thought, "Learning my cousin is a metamorphmagus and the only reason she isn't on the tree is because her mother married a muggleborn and now making the connection that she and the last metamorphmagus probably had a similar, if not identical ancestry, it's just not what I expected to learn today. I'm a little shocked." Hermione understood, she'd been faced with learning something unexpected just after her tenth birthday.

"Yes, learning something that changes your whole understanding of life can be a bit much. I was the same when Professor McGonagall appeared at my house and told me I was a witch." Draco never gave much thought to how a muggleborn would take the news.

"So you had no idea magic ran in your family?" Hermione looked up very surprised at the question.

"No, no one in my family has magic. My parents are muggles."

"I mean I don't have evidence for it, but I remember my Mum telling Auntie Bella one night, after a bit too much wine and forgetting I was in the room, she wondered if muggleborns were really children of errant members. But, Mum does like to gossip and that was just after Theo's sister was sent away. She, uh, Theo's sister that is, she was born without magic and Theo's dad was disgusted."

Draco, shocked he let out that secret as no one in his circle of friends discussed it, looked worriedly at Hermione. "Please don't say a word about it. Theo was inconsolable when she was sent away and his Mum died shortly after that. It's never talked about." Hermione heard the pain in Draco's voice at admitting to something so private, but obviously well known within Draco's circle of friends.

"Of course I won't."

"I should go." Draco quickly left the library unsure what just happened. He returned to the dungeons and passed the bevy of witches lingering in the common room waiting for his return. He had some heavy thinking to do.

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