Chapter 1

June 1992

Augusta Longbottom stood slightly ahead of the crowd loitering on the platform of 9 ¾ in time to meet the Hogwarts Express after the end of the 1991-1992 school year. Neville's first year at Hogwarts. Under her ridiculous vulture hat, one worn only to keep the more obnoxious idiots at bay. As if she wanted to spend more time with members of the Wizengamot than strictly necessary. From under the safety of her hideous hat, Augusta met the cold blue gaze of Lucius Malfoy.

When their eyes met, the lord nodded his head politely towards her. Augusta nodded in return. The man was as pompous as his beloved peacocks but, much like Augusta, believed in their traditions even if they differed on everything else. Like any respectable pureblood, he held his family close to his heart and handed down their traditions. She could respect him, even if she hated his beliefs towards muggles and their increasing level of muggle-born witches and wizards.

Before her thoughts could linger any longer, the familiar sound of the train whistle echoed along the platform, indicating the arrival of their young charges. The dark red colored train flashed across the platform, coming to a slow stop—another long whistle. Just like that, all thoughts of a pompous blonde were wiped from her memory as her eyes prepared to scan for her grandson. It took several minutes as students slowly disembarked the train and relocated their belongings before searching for their family members. Augusta spent several minutes searching the crowd of students for the chubby face of her grandson before she found him. He looked to be waving at a trio of fellow Gryffindor students.

"Lady Grandmother," Neville greeted with a bow. Augusta nodded as she gently tapped her wand against his school things. She watched as Neville's things shrunk. "I have a portkey for once we are outside the platform," Lady Longbottom informed her grandson.

"Yes, Grandmother," Neville mumbled softly. Augusta fought back a tut at the lack of confidence in his answer.

She still had time yet to make a man out of the poor boy. It was times like this Augusta missed the presence of her son and his wife the most. Frank would have made Neville feel confident in a way Augusta was unable. Alice would have been a comfort and a person forever in his corner. As Neville offered her his arm, his school things safely tucked into their pockets, Augusta allowed her attention to drift to his friends.

Augusta followed his gaze, watching it land on an interesting trio.

The trio made their way outside the platform, not all that surprising as seeing one of those children was a Weasley. Last week, Arthur Weasley was talking about his newly made flying automobile. The Longbottom estate regent knew that Weasley did not have a proper permit, yet he managed not to get in trouble with his employer. They said he would avoid muggle neighborhoods and had installed an invisibility feature. Augusta swore it was only due to Albus that the car was not confiscated.

The trio Neville had been talking to was made of two boys and a girl. The redheaded boy was a Weasley, making him the youngest male child of Arthur and Molly Weasley. Augusta mentally shook her head at the audacity of the Weasleys; having so many children while a blessing that Lady Magic had gifted them was also irresponsible in so many ways. Arthur, while a kind man, was not the most academically inclined, nor was he a true leader, making it hard for the man to do much more than being a clog in the machine with limited resources. They still had the female, Ginevra, to send off to Hogwarts.

The next was a skinny boy with dark-brown hair that was reminiscent of a boy who would come over to play while his mother and Augusta had tea. Frank would offer up their Quidditch pitch and show the younger boy some moves. He was so obviously James Potter's son that it was almost painful. Augusta's eyes narrowed in as her grandson said his goodbyes.

The girl, with hair as wild as almost every female of the House of Black had ever been gifted, hugged the Potter boy. Augusta watched as the boy flinched before getting comfortable in the girl's embrace. A stray thought passed Augusta, just who was the boy's guardian when his godfather was in prison?

She watched with hawk-like eyes as she watched the boy release the girl first, saying something to the Weasley boy before making his way towards a sizeable mustached man standing next to a frowning stick-thin blonde and a miniature giant blonde whale. Augusta's mouth twisted at seeing how the Potter boy shrank as he got closer to the man.

"Are those friends of yours, Neville?" Augusta asked her young charge abruptly.

"Y-Yes, Grandmother. The redhead is R-Ron Weasley along with H-Harry Potter and H-Hermione Granger" Neville stuttered slightly, answering his grandmother, eyeing her warily.

Augusta Longbottom had long passed, caring for much of the Wizarding World. They kept the Longbottom seat warm until Neville came of age, but the aging witch mostly kept them to themselves outside of the mandatory social functions.

"A Weasley and a Potter" Augusta paused, glancing over at Neville. "Good families, albeit the Weasleys, are problematic at times if not simply idiotic. The Potter boy, who are his guardians?"

Neville frowned, "H-Harry doesn't talk about his f-family much-h. He has mentioned a cousin briefly, and I think an Aunt?"

"And the girl? A relation to Hector?" She questioned.

Neville shook his head, "N-Not that I am aware of. H-Hermione is an m-mug-muggle-born. She's top of our y-year, however! She's ss-struggled to make f-friends."

Augusta snorted, "A muggle-born in Dumbledore's Hogwarts? She is struggling to make friends. The poor thing must think we are all stuck-up and snobbish. Not knowing how ill-prepared she is or the social cues from others she has missed over the year. The top in your year, you say?"

Not able to add to the conversation, Neville just nodded. Augusta frowned as she watched the young girl greet her muggle parents. Only a few more days would be until the Academic List was available. Augusta had always held tradition dearly. Perhaps it was time to bring some of it back.

"Come along, Neville. Your grandmother has a busy summer planned."

XXX

Malfoy Manor

Narcissa Malfoy nee Black took a sip from her cup of tea, observing her guest under her long eyelashes. When one receives a request for a social visit by one Dowager Lady Longbottom, every pureblood of standing knows that it would be rude to reject such an invitation. As a Lady of two families from the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Narcissa could not decline such an invitation, not considering the dark history between their families.

The fact was Augusta Longbottom had no reason to see her. She avoided greeting her since Narcissa's sister was arrested for the attack on the Longbottom's that November night. For the Dowager to ignore such a dark memory, then Narcissa knew whatever Augusta Longbottom wanted. She needed support.

But what could Augusta Longbottom want that she could not get support for with what was typically considered to be Light-associated families? She placed her cup gently back onto the table, and her delicate hands were seen across her lap. Narcissa smiled politely at the elderly witch, "I was surprised to hear from you, Lady Longbottom."

Augusta snorted, "No need for bland pleasantries, Lady Malfoy. We both know our history and that I'd never have tea with you for the pleasure of your company. What with your husband's leanings and that of the history of the Blacks you so proudly hail from."

Leave it to a Gryffindor to be blunt and borderline crass. Yet Longbottom was a witch well renowned and of impeccable breeding. Her table manners spoke of her high birth, "Well then, I agree to do without subtleties; what is it that you wish to speak to me about Lady Longbottom?"

"What do you know about one Hermione Granger?"

Due to Narcissa's upbringing, her facial features did not morph, indicating what she thought of the young witch. Delicately the blonde answered, "A young witch in Gryffindor. She has attended Hogwarts, and the witch will be at the top of her class, I believe. My Draco is constantly trying to win the top spot from her as he comes in second in almost all his classes."

Augusta's mouth twisted into a smile, "A very bright muggle-born, indeed. From my observations, her manners are like those in our social circles. If a bit on the rough side."

Narcissa's mouth pursed as her blue eyes narrowed on the witch, "What of her?"

"I believe she would do well with…well-being fostered of a sort, more of a mentorship."

Narcissa considered what her guest was saying, but her brilliant mind understood the implications. If Augusta Longbottom wanted to take a mudblood under her wing and mentor her, what could her beloved Light side have issues with? Unless Augusta Longbottom wanted to do more than merely mentor the girl, perhaps teach her customs, Narcissa knew the Longbottoms followed as members of an ancient pureblood family.

"I see," Narcissa settled on. "I assume this is not just an interest in one girl. As brilliant as she is said to be."

Augusta's smiled widely, "How astute of you, Lady Malfoy. I know of your leanings, Lady Malfoy, and I'm afraid I must disagree with most of them. I am a proud witch who is proud of my history and culture. I saw on the train today a girl who has already been taught like us but lacks our heritage. Why do you think that is?"

"I know that muggles have classes much as we do," Narcissa answered tartly. "Despite our leanings, as you say. We are not completely unaware of the muggle world. We strongly believe in its separation and that muggles have the potential to be very dangerous, especially with their larger numbers."

"I don't disagree with you on many of those accounts. I can even respect you more because your views come from knowledge rather than just copying what your idiotic parents told you" Augusta nodded. "I investigated her family…they are not muggle nobility but have done well for themselves and have thus taught their daughter the same. Hermione will be a formidable witch one day, but she will get stuck by her lack of awareness of what she does not know."

"And you wish to help her," Narcissa concluded. "May I be frank?"

Augusta's lips smiled sadly. Narcissa knew at the reminder of her child, "Of course, Lady Malfoy."

"What does this have to do with my family?"

"Albus Dumbledore does not see the need for those from the muggle world to obtain knowledge of our culture. Not as a mandatory class and certainly not as an alternative elective to Muggle Studies. It's a bit of hypocrisy that I believe he is blind to or chooses to keep for his gains."

"Lady Longbottom, I don't often see your ire come into the Headmaster's direction. I see that he won't support this…. I assume it's more than one witch?"

Augusta nodded, "Harry Potter has been raised by muggles, despite being the son of an old pureblood family, even with a brilliant muggle-born mother. He has not been taught of this world. Even from the casual observations…those two have something. I've long thought those who were muggle-born, hell muggle-raised half-bloods need more instruction on our world rather than relying on whatever our children deem to tell them."

"You want the House of Malfoy to support your endeavor for this…. integration program?"

"Your husband has not dodged the years of accusations, and almost no one believes his story of being under the imperious curse. This could give your family a needed social boost to those who dislike you."

"And for those who share our values?"

"I'm sure you can think of why being the first to get on board is imperative. After all, it's not like muggle-borns are going anywhere. At times our world is a true solution to this divide."

"You ask for my help…even with our family's history?"

Augusta Longbottom's eyes narrowed. "I have not forgiven your sister for her sins. However, I am the matriarch of a pureblood family. There comes a time you may need to make people you dislike your ally."

The two continued to sip on their tea in silence. Lady Malfoy thought on Augusta Longbottom's words…a witch born of muggles who has already shown she was years ahead of her peers. In Draco's letters, it is obvious he found it challenging to insult her; the only apparent faults in her were the muggle blood in her veins and her distinct lack of wizarding world knowledge. Narcissa thought of the young pureblood girls around Draco's age…so few.

Of those not disturbingly closely related… only the Greengrass girls were of a similar intellect both in academics and social understanding. The Parkinson girl, while a good candidate on paper, hardly acted in a way that was befitting of a future Lady. To survive, they would need to bring in new blood; bringing in foreign wizarding brides was always an option, but for how long? Add to the fact that not every country viewed pureblood heritage in the same way; Britain was the strictest that Narcissa was aware of.

Creating a program that integrated their Muggleborns could begin to help this issue. Some families will not allow their children to marry such beings, but even a few would be willing to take in one if they were desperate enough for a child…. perhaps blood adoption would even be something the families could discuss. They were making the child a pureblood in the eyes of the law but allowing new blood into their line into the family magic.

Yes…Narcissa could see how this could bring significant benefits.

XXX

"We are so happy you are home, dear" Her mother smiled over her shoulder from the passenger door of the car. Hermione beamed at the attention; having grown up as an only child bringing around so many children for nine months out of the year could be daunting. It was soothing to have a few months of peace.

Hermione tried not to think about Harry; how would his summer be? Instead, Hermione focused on trying to spot anything different about her parents. Gazing upon her mother, Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly jealous. Where they share their curly brown hair, Helen was gifted with soft curls that flowed over her shoulders. Hermione's swirled into a knotted mess no matter what she tried.

Helen Granger came from a wealthy family before her marriage. Hermione's maternal grandparents were of the old money set; Hermione's ancestors were once part of the peerage. A fact Helen Granger's family was proud of. Aristocratic blood with more money than they knew what to do with, despite being denied the title due to inheritance rules. Helen's family was proud to be part of high society.

Hermione knew her great-great-grandfather had been a second son, so she did not inherit the title. Still, he kept much of the expectations and inherited enough wealth, which meant he never had to work if he invested wisely. Growing up, Helen went to the best schools and was surrounded by old money all her life, but when it came to university, Helen chose not only just to go and major in something until she found a suitable husband. No, Hermione's mother had decided to become a Dentist.

Hermione heard that her maternal grandmother had fainted when she heard the news. Her grandfather thought it was a phase and went along with it. When it became apparent that Helen would not come to her senses, they tried sending in more open-minded suitors. By then, Helen had met Richard, and she would not budge, not even when they threatened to pull her inheritance or their support for schooling. By then, Helen had almost finished and entered her trust fund.

She could finish university with her own funds if necessary. Her maternal grandparents were furious when Helen invited them to her wedding. Richard and Helen Granger married in a quiet ceremony, Helen's siblings and cousins came, but only Richard's parents arrived. The relationship was never the same. Once close siblings and cousins would come by occasionally, but Hermione knew the stories were tense.

No one supported Helen in marrying Richard. But her brother and two cousins thought it would be unseemly if not a single member of her family went. So, they did. When Hermione was aged five that was when her maternal grandparents burst in once again. At the time, Hermione's parents had been struggling to keep their office open and send Hermione to a private primary school when it became clear Hermione was ahead of her peers.

Not to mention what they now know to be accidental magic. They agreed to help with Hermione's schooling if they agreed to send Hermione to the tutor Hermione's cousins were receiving. And so, Hermione's etiquette lessons began. They had been tortious. Hermione had been attending for over a month when her extended family saw her accidental magic firsthand.

Hermione never received an invite back, but the money for school kept coming. Helen had been outraged and decided to ensure Hermione at least knew the basics of high society manners.

"Sweetheart?

Startled, Hermione turned to see her father staring at her in amusement. Her father was getting into the front seat after shoving her school trunk into the car's trunk. Feeling a bit sheepish, "Sorry, I guess I got lost in my thoughts for a moment."

The pair shared a bemused look, "See that, Helen? Our little girl is all grown up. She hasn't even missed us!"

The young witch beamed at her parents, enjoying the feeling of being back home with her beloved parents.

"Hogwarts is amazing, but I missed you and Dad," The twelve-year-old admitted with a slight blush. Her mother beamed right back at her, reaching out from behind to squeeze her daughter's hand.

"We missed you too, pumpkin" Hermione's blush deepened at her parent's use of her childhood pet name. "The house is far too quiet without your scribbling on the table."

"Dad!"

"Richard!" Her mother scolded with a laugh.

Her dad sent her a grin laughing, "What? You know she concentrates so hard that she leaves marks on the table!"

The family of three joyfully started the car, making their way out onto the busy London streets. As her parents began to explain their plans for the summer, Hermione turned her head towards the window, gazing at the landscape that passed her by. The wizarding world was nothing like she had expected. It was a lot like the muggle world if only socially set in the past, at least regarding fashion and the use of electronics.

According to her research, magic and electricity were resistant to one another for multiple reasons. If Hermione had more time, she would have researched further but had gotten sidetracked when she decided to help Harry on his quest with the stone. She couldn't believe that the philosopher stone was real! The implications for what muggles knew as alchemy was astounding as the historical view of the art was elementary science at best.

Hermione's first year had been full of surprises. She had even made friends! Even if they were two unacademically minded boys, Hermione felt guilty about how much time they took to maintain. She rarely got to spend as much time with Neville, the sole person who talked to her on the train and always was willing to listen, even though he gave her a shrug when Harry or Ron would call her over.

Hermione frowned. Was she a bad friend?

Before that Halloween, Hermione didn't have friends, as the girls in her year only seemed to talk about fashion, make-up, and, God forbid, boys. They were eleven and twelve; for Merlin's sake, Hermione corrected herself mentally. Neville had explained why wizards did not involve the Christian god, preferring using wizards and witches of great power that were as good as a myth to them today.

Before Halloween, Lavender and Parvati were friendly enough but always seemed to roll their eyes at how often she was with a book. Neville had been the only one who tried to hold a conversation with her. It was too bad that Neville was so unsure of himself that it was sometimes painful to talk to him.

Hermione blanched at that thought. The young witch was self-aware enough that she was hardly the most sociable person. She had tried to make friends within her house and outside of it, but it seemed like every time she tried, many would turn their noses or find something else to do instead.

It was not until Christmas that Neville mentioned that many of the students from wizarding families found her polite but a bit forward. There were times when Hermione was talking when Neville would flinch, almost as if she had made a significant social blunder…

Oh.

Hermione had always thought herself to be well-mannered, if a bit blunt. Even her mother could scold her for some of her bluntness.

"Mum? Dad?" Hermione called out to them, turning her head away from the scenery as they made their way out of London.

"Yes, Pumpkin?" Helen Granger answered her daughter, neck turning to see her young prodigy better.

"Am I rude?"

Helen blinked as if in shock over the question. "Darling, where is this coming from? If you are rude, it's due to excitement and not watching your tone. Everyone does it from time to time."

"But am I rude? Uncouth? The wizarding world is strange…very backward sometimes but also very formal. I can't help but feel like I would have been better off staying in lessons with Grandmother," Hermione said honestly.

Her parents shared a look. "Darling, you remember when you began your lessons with your Grandmother?" Helen asked delicately.

"Yes," Hermione nodded curiously as to where this was going. "My magic scared her, didn't it?"

Her father nodded, "Yes. Your grandparents agreed to pay for your schooling but sweetheart… you know very well they are old-fashioned. They never saw anything like it, and they were scared. It's not your fault. It's why your Mum taught you instead."

Helen blushed, "I taught you the best I could. Perhaps I was not as thorough as I should have been. I was never the most well-behaved of society's daughters. But I know I taught you well. You could never be rude, let alone uncouth, Hermione."

Hermione's mouth twisted, "I think… that I need to learn what counts in the wizarding world. My friends… it won't matter to them. But…"

Helen looked at her daughter with understanding, "Your friends aren't the ones in power."

Hermione smiled weakly, "Yeah…I know I just entered the wizarding world, but there are rules that everyone just seems to know. I've always felt like an outsider, but now I think there are rules I need to be aware of. If only to protect my future."

Richard Granger looked at his daughter through the rearview mirror, "What future is that princess?"

Hermione beamed, "I don't know yet, but I'm considering Minister of Magic."

Richard chuckled, "That will be a lot of politicking, my dear."

"Which is exactly why I need to understand the culture of those in power," Hermione said, sounding far wiser than her eleven years. Yet, she was sometimes more intelligent than an adult, still a child. Richard and Helen shared a look.

When Hermione was born, they had agreed that they didn't want Hermione to grow up the way Helen did. When the tutoring fell through, Helen made sure Hermione knew what was polite to most social and general good manners. If Hermione attended a high tea event, she'd hardly be considered an imbecile. Perhaps not the most graceful, Helen considered her daughter a more forceful personality.

However, they also believed in allowing Hermione to make decisions for herself, which is why they investigated Hogwarts, but the decision to go to a magic school was their daughter's. They looked at other options, Hogwarts had won out, but Hermione decided to leave the muggle school system. If she wanted to immerse herself further into this strange world…well, Helen knew what powerful families were like. She also sees how a personality like Hermione could come across, especially if the world were as Victorian as it had seemed. It indeed was an alien world her daughter wanted to enter, one that Helen knew would require knowledge Helen didn't have.

She could teach Hermione all about the old families of her world but not the Wizarding one. "Okay," Helen said.

"Okay?" Her husband and daughter asked in unison.

"I know you, Hermione, "Helen met her daughter's gaze. "You might not know how you'll get there, but I know my daughter is ambitious. You'll need the right friends and if you want to become this… Minister of Magic, you'll need the magical equivalent of our Prime Minister hopefuls. Minister of Magic is like our PM, right?" Helen double-checked.

With Hermione's nod, Mrs. Granger continued. "Well, you'll need to get to know those in power. I know the ways of old families, Hermione. You will need to act like them…I don't know the magical world, but we can find someone willing to teach you."

"You will?" Richard echoed their daughter, much to Helen's amusement. Her brown eyes glittered in laughter as she reached out to squeeze his hand.

"Hermione…can you tell me the name of a friend whose family you think is similar to mine in your magical world?"

Two names came to mind, but only one was her friend, "Longbottom. My friend Neville lives with his Gran, Lady Longbottom."

XXX

Malfoy Manor

"Draco, dear. Tell me more about this Hermione Granger."

It took all his training not to open his mouth and allow his half-chewed food back onto his plate at his mother's request. Instead, Draco continued to chew, missing the approving gleams of his parent's eyes. His mother's stormy blue eyes gleamed with approval while his father's steel gray glinted with pride. Draco was truly becoming a little Lord in the making. Once Draco had swallowed, he looked up to meet his parent's eyes.

"Granger?" Draco questioned.

Lucius tutted, "Don't make your mother repeat herself, Draco." Even as his eyes looked at his wife curiously, like his son Lucius wanted to know what his wife was brewing up, he knew better than to question her in front of their son. For one, his wife was a Black, while she may share his name now. Once a Black, always a Black, and those with the blood of the Blacks were not ones to take lightly.

Especially their women.

Draco coughed, "Hermione Jean Granger, top of our year. Sorted into Gryffindor's house," Draco scowled at the next part, "She is best friends with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Her only obvious weakness is her hatred of the broom. She is a mudblood."

Narcissa scowled, "Draco, what did I say about that word?"

Draco winced at the correction, "Forgive me, Mother."

His mother smiled softly at her son, "My dragon. You are one of the sacred twenty-eight. While that holds responsibility, that does not mean you get to degrade others. We may have stronger blood, but they outnumber us. We must show the minimum amount of respect."

Lady Malfoy finished her statement by taking a bite out of her meal while looking at her Lord husband. The man who no doubt taught their son to use the foul word. She had warned him they were necessary despite their feelings about those of muggle heritage. They weren't going anywhere, and especially after the Dark Lord fell, it was unwise to show such open hostility.

Lucius coughed into his hand before casting a scourgify onto his hands. Narcissa raised a brow at him. Their son looked between them, unsure of what was happening. "Your mother is right, son," Lucius said grimly. Knowing very well, his wife shared his ideals but was more… open-minded.

She was the most Slytherin of them all. Draco looked at his parents wide-eyed but nodded, knowing it was better not to say anything. He would meet with his father and surely tell him what was going on with his mother.

"This…Granger is first in your year?" Lucius continued.

Draco looked down grumpily, a pout set to his lips. Narcissa tutted him quietly to stop Lucius from making a fuss. He was still a boy, after all. Some allowances must be made. "Yes. I've come in second."

Narcissa smiled, "Well done, Dragon. Second place is a high accomplishment."

"First would have been better," Lucius sighed, looking at the downcast look on his son's face. He offered, "There is always next year."

Narcissa nodded, "I've had an interesting meeting with Augusta Longbottom today while you two were out riding the Abraxans."

Lucius looked at his wife as Draco turned to his mother in confusion. Lady Longbottom had a long memory and shunned all attempts Narcissa made at making amends for her sister's behavior that November day.

"She wishes to begin a… Integration program, if you will," Narcissa said after a moment. She delicately put the pieces together in a way that would be palpable to her audience.

"Integration Program?" Draco asked, confused. For whom?

"Lady Longbottom has long been of a similar mind to us that the lack of cultural knowledge amongst those new to our world is abominable. She's tried to talk to those in her circle for ages, but Albus Dumbledore has interfered multiple times. According to him, our world does not need such protections nor our newcomers."

Lucius understood precisely what his wife was leading to and turned toward Draco. "Draco, what do you believe your mother is talking about?"

Draco straightened his back, wanting to impress his parents with his forethought. He spent an extra second or two to get his thoughts together. "Mother, do you mean to say Dumbledore is opposing Mud… Apologies. Muggle-born's from getting better acquainted with this world? Even half-bloods that were muggle raised for the most part?"

Narcissa beamed at her son while Lucius smirked in pride. "Precisely, my dragon. It is due to Dumbledore's continued ignorant policy and meeting an interesting young witch and wizard that made Lady Longbottom rethink her strategy."

"How does this include you, my dear?" Lucius questioned.

Narcissa smiled, "She proposes a mentorship between old families and those muggle-raised, but she rightly thinks we will need someone to show off. Proof that the program works. She believes that together we can gather enough votes to agree to a preliminary round. To show that teaching our ways is worth it."

Lucius' mind was reeling with this new information. Since that Halloween night, his family had been dogged by his ties to the Death Eaters, a group of vigilantes that sought destruction rather than real social change. That's not what Lucius had signed for, what his father had been a part of. By the time Lucius had been old enough to take part, the divisions had grown more robust, and the more… violent of the bunch appeared to be in power.

Their leader did nothing to curb their tastes. He had seemed happy to indulge them, which is why Lucius thought this proposition through. He knew what his father believed…that his school friend still lived and that he would be back. Engaging in this program…if Voldemort returned, would cause problems.

Yet the political climate was what it was. Muggle-borns could hardly hold important offices for long, and the purebloods didn't want to be seen as blood purists. It was a standstill waiting for someone to come in and once more rock the boat. And if Lucius knew anything, something would come to rock the boat.

The question was, how would they make sure it benefited his family?

XXX

A.N: I've been reading fanfictions that involve going deeper into the wizarding world and pureblood politics for years. I love them because they are thoughtful, exciting, and different. So here is my take. I hope you enjoy it!