Chapter 4.6

She's not really fond of dogs. Dogs are known to be loyal to their masters, loyal to their pack. But he exposed the Potter's to Lord Voldemort. It was very confusing for her, yet she feels like something bigger was happening behind the scenes. How could a loyal dog like him easily betray his own pack, or could it be, that the man has another pack, his family perhaps?

After acquiring most information about Sirius Black, thanks to her "good relationship" with the Ministry ("It's only for research purposes Sir, never know what this man might do and I, a muggleborn, might end up in the infirmary again." She pouted for extra effort). After that Hermione learned that the wizard was not even given a proper trial. The Wizengamot had no jurisdiction over the case, quite surprising from a member of The Sacred 28. Moreover, the guy could easily get acquitted.

Unfortunately that was not good.

"If you're mum's a Black, why didn't she stand trial for her cousin?"

"My mother, does not help blood traitors blasted off from the family tree." They were sitting back-to-back on an alcove in the library, away from prying eyes and noisy gossip mongers. She's smaller so he does not lean in fully, but it was nice to spend the lazy Saturday afternoon with her. Even if they're talking about entrapping said blood traitor.

"Funny, I thought with being the last heir and scion to the Black family, he'd automatically be the Black's Paterfamilias now."

"I won't even ask how you know thaaa.. Ah Granger!" Little witch suddenly stood up causing him to stumble backwards. She started to pace in front of him and he knows he's in for one of her diatribes, or worse her theories.

"Draco, hypothetically speaking, if a dying scion appoints a blood relative to be the next Lord of the house, in his deathbed of course…" "Of course" He said drolly , rubbing his back. "Can that said hypothetical new Lord of the House bequeath ground and control over the family magic?"

"Does this deathbed look anything like an altar?"

"Maybe…"

"Hermione, were not killing anyone."

"…"

"Right?"

"Hypothetically Draco."

"Oh sweet Merlin. We're just thirteen Granger, we can't go around killing mass murderers."

"I'm fourteen." She stopped short, counting her days spent turning time. "Wait, scratch that, I'm fifteen."

"Granger, I don't even want to get into the dynamics of your time travelling. But can you please explain further your sudden obsession with Black and the familial magic of my family."

Could she go for honesty? She does need his blood still, and how else could she gain his trust if she doesn't sprinkle a little truth here and there.

"Well.. long story short. My grandfather was formerly known as Magnus Black – a squib, blasted off from the family tree at his ripe age of 11. When he was adopted by a wealthy muggle family, my late grandmother didn't realize he's of pureblood descent thinking he was an ordinary muggle, albeit terribly handsome and whatnot… I'm rabbling. Anyway, my father, their child, was never recognized by the family magic, and by extension also me."

"Granger, your parents are muggles."

"Oh yeah, they're dentists."

"What?" Utterly more confused.

"Do keep up Draco." So keep up he did. He tried to absorb what she's trying to tell him. First off, she's definitely NOT muggleborn, and furthermore she has Black magic in her blood. She has Black magic in her blood! And suddenly the boy knows what she's trying to say...

"Are you trying to tell me Granger, that you need Sirius Black to bequeath your magic with familial ones."

"No and yes."

"Granger, please just be straightforward with me." He didn't need the turner to feel so aged, she does it better anyway.

"I need you Draco to bequeath familial magic into mine. Not Sirius." Yes, and add a Sugarquill to that order. She talks like as if it was such an ordinary request, unfortunately all he could say was, "Why?" Horror creeping in him. She was asking too much from him, does she not see that? And him, to be appointed Paterfamilias at such a young age, unheard of.

"I have a project that I really don't want to end up like an abomination. My father's maternal familial magic favours the dark arts. We are more inclined to use dark magic, therefore conductors of demonic sorcery. Making us monsters. Your family, or rather the Black's, have grounding magic."

"I…I don't know what to say Hermione. My magic is too young to absorb the responsibilities of being a Paterfamilias. Not to mention I am Scion of House Malfoy. And even if, hypothetically…" "yes, of course" "… the Black family has long forgone the art of grounding magic. If you have further done your research, House Black has fallen, even in our own family the Black magic has been terrible shaken, not an ounce of it is grounded. Take my Aunt, for example, stories say she's not really sane, and not to mention Sirius-fucking-Black is a convict who murdered 12 muggles AND Peter Pettigrew!" His voice raising becoming a noise she once hated.

"That's what you're there for Draco, to ground us." She said encouragingly. Her blinding smile making him surrender. Drats to this adorable petite witch.

"You're not making me say no, are you?" He asked resignedly.

"Nope!" She popped the 'p', smiling at him widely.

"Oh Circeee! What have I gotten myself into?! I can't even believe we're related." He bemoaned.

"That's what you're worried about? That's just mean Draco." She packs up her books and hauls her bag, a sign their conversation in the alcove is over.

"Hmm. Not really… It doesn't matter anyway, it's quite common in the family." He packs his stuff too, not willing to be left behind on a Saturday in the library.

"Huh? What's common?"

Nothing! He quickly thought. "So who's magic is responsible for the maternal line?" He said casually, trying to divert his slip-up.

"Well, my mother came from a family of Greek Sorcerers, who are proficient in the art of Elemental magic. Quite nifty, you know. I always had affinity for water. Anyway if you're talking about the one accountable for Dark Arts and Demonic Sorcery, my grandmother was a Gaunt."

"But, your parents are muggles…"

"Yes, yes. They're dentists Draco."

"I am so confused Granger…" He was developing a headache. It could be from over using the Turner, but Hermione is good at inducing headaches herself.

"Come on! Dinner's about to start, and I want to get a good night's rest."

"Yeah.. me too. I suddenly have a headache." He said resignedly.

"I use to get that a lot too!"

AN: Oh my, that took too long for me to update. I am so sorry about that, didn't realize the whole world would explode into madness when I started this fic. How are you guys holding up? Hope everyone is doing okay wherever you are :)