A/N: My response to all of the reviews that say Hermione will ruin the story is simple, and is in this chapter. If you don't like it, feel free to read the A/N at the end.

That evening, Harry caught Ron on the way back from dinner. He grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him into an alcove near the Great Hall.

"Ron, we need to talk."

Ron jerked his arm away. "No, we don't."

"Yes, we do. You're acting like a bellend."

Ron turned red. "I'm acting like a bellend? You're running around with that… that… trollop. You were supposed to be with my sister! You don't see how she pines after you? Merlin's balls, even Hermione would be a better choice than her!"

Harry hissed, "Don't you ever speak about Lavender like that! And Hermione's been our best friend since first year! Don't you dare act like she's the dirt beneath your feet. Any man would be lucky to have her!"

"What, that bookworm? Who'd want her? But she'd still be a better choice than… than… her. A trollop who's been all over the school getting her fanny stuffed! Some best friend you are! After fourth year, you should know how she is."

Understanding dawned on Harry's face. "You're just angry because she wouldn't let you get in her knickers after the Yule Ball. Maybe if you'd treated her well she would have at least looked at you a second time."

Ron turned even redder. "We're through, Potter! Have your fun with Brown! See what that gets you! You're no friend of mine!" He stalked off.

Harry shook his head. He didn't know why he expected any less. He walked out, and saw Hermione standing in the corridor, looking at him with tears in her eyes.

"Hermione, I'm sure he didn't mean it…"

She turned around and ran out of the hallway.

Harry sighed. This might be a time for some girl talk. He went to find Lavender.

Lavender found Hermione sitting in the common room. She was staring at the fire, tears trickling down her face, as she tried to stifle sobs. Harry had informed her of what Ron said, then made himself scarce. She agreed that this was not the right time for him to try to make things better himself. Lavender would prefer to be getting bent over a desk and properly reamed by Harry, but her mother was right. Time to be a big girl, especially because it looked like she would be a major part of her life starting very soon.

She sat down next to Hermione, and put an arm around her. That was all it took for the spigot to be opened, and Hermione spent the next fifteen minutes burying her face against Lavender's shoulder and crying herself out. Lavender did not say a word. She didn't know what it was like to be Hermione, but… she seemed to be a very lonely girl.

Finally Hermione had no more tears left, and was just sniffling and hiccupping softly. She still hadn't said a word, and Lavender was content to just let her cry.

After a little while, Lavender asked Hermione softly, "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Hermione nodded, sniffling.

Lavender just sat there for a while. Finally she spoke. "Come with me and Harry to my house this weekend. My mum will take us for your makeover. I think… you need new friends. I can be one. If... you want one." She smiled softly.

Hermione sniffled and wiped her nose, then untangled herself from Lavender and sat up straight.

"I… you're right. I'd like that. And… bugger Ron," she said, resolutely.

Lavender's mouth dropped open. "Hermione? You… swear?"

Hermione giggled softly. "I guess I do," she said. "At least when it's warranted. Bugger Ron", she said, as if she were testing it on her tongue. Then she laughed. "Bugger Ron!", she said, a bit louder, attracting the attention of a few students on the edge of the common room. She blushed.

Lavender laughed. "Baby steps, Hermione," she said, and patted her cheek. Hermione giggled. "Bugger Ron," she whispered conspiratorially. They both giggled, and Hermione went up to the dorms, feeling much better.

The next morning, Harry and Lavender were eating breakfast, and Hermione walked in, looking like the cat that just ate the canary. Ron walked in after her, his face flushed red, and walking funny. He looked like he was suppressing tears. Hermione sat primly down next to him.

"What.. happened?", he asked.

She flushed. "I saw him in the hallway. He started saying things again. I… I kicked him in the bollocks. Then I told him if I ever caught him talking about witches like that again, he'd get worse."

Harry's mouth dropped open and Hermione turned redder. "You… you… what?"

She lowered her head. "Don't make me say it again, Harry."

Fred and George were having a heated whispered conversation with Ron, then walked over to where Hermione was sitting.

"Granger -"

"Dear girl -"

"I'm sure you had -"

"- a good explanation for -"

"- kicking our little brother in the bollocks."

"And it better be a good one."

Hermione stood up slowly, and turned to them. "Maybe you, dear boys, can teach your little brother that saying naughty things about witches is not appropriate. I would tell you what he said about me and my friend Lavender here, except it would make you blush and is certainly not appropriate for a table full of firsties. If he behaves, I'll have no reason to do it again. And before you think of pranking me, I know chemistry and fifteen ways to cause your bollocks to fall off. Now, if you will excuse me, I have breakfast to eat." She then primly turned around and sat down on the bench. She was shaking, but the look on her face was stony.

Gred and Forge looked at each other.

"Maybe we should -"

"- find out what he said -"

"- before we risk our bollocks."

"But -"

"- if you did not have a good reason, -"

"- you'll be hearing from us again."

They turned as one, walked over to Ron, each one grabbed an arm, and they frogmarched him out of the room.

Harry finally picked his jaw up off the floor. "What - what happened to you?," he asked, wonder in his voice.

Hermione looked at him, matter of fact. "Apparently I need new friends. And I'm sick of being the 'bookworm' that no one wants." Her lip quivered just a little. "I've had enough."

Harry nodded. "Good for you," and patted her hand. She looked at her hand, then him, then went back to chewing on her food.

That evening, Harry and Lavender found themselves in "their" room, again, He closed the door, and turned to her.

"It looks like you and Hermione are going to be best friends."

She looked down. "I… know my place, Harry."

"What do you think your place is?"

"Lady Potter," she said.

He frowned deeper. "The black estate is older, more influential, has more wealth… seems to be superior in every way."

She nodded.

"And the Potter house has some money, some influence, and is really nothing to speak of."

She nodded again.

He sighed. "Why, exactly, do you think any of that matters?"

"Because - because that's how things work."

"No, Lav," he said, with uncharacteristic forcefulness. "That's not how things work. Not with me. There may be certain rules and traditions I have to deal with when navigating through wizarding society, but if any of those rules and traditions mean I have to show favoritism to either of you, I'm not doing it."

"Harry -"

"No!," he nearly shouted, and she cringed. "I mean it, Lav! If the two of you want to work out a pecking order amongst yourselves, then bloody have at it. Merlin knows I know nothing about a relationship with even one woman, much less two. But If the two of you are to be my wives, then you are to be my wives. Not a wife and a mistress, not a wife and a concubine. Two wives. If you have any notion in your mind that one of you is going to be the 'alpha', then forget about that right now. You will have full access to the Black estate, and she will have full access to the Potter estate. The only thing you will not have access to is making a Black heir. And sod any rule that says otherwise. I am Lord Potter, and I will be Lord Black, and that is how I'm going to run my household!"

She was quiet.

"Why are you so insecure, Lav? Every time we've had even the slightest challenge, you've been afraid I'm going to leave you. And now you're doing it again."

"I… I…", she stammered, and ran out of the room.

Harry threw up his hands and rolled his eyes. "Girls," he said, mournfully. He walked out as well. There was no sign of her as he left.

She ran to the portrait hole, without stopping, and headed for her dorm. Hermione stopped her. "What's wrong, Lav?"

"Leave me alone! I… I'm not… I can't…", she said, and made to leave. She was panting like she'd just run a marathon and looked like she was going to be sick. Hermione grabbed her arm. "You helped me. Let me help you."

Lavender collapsed into Hermione's arms and started bawling. Hermione led her over to a corner, and set up a silencing charm, and let her cry it out.

"What's wrong?", Hermione repeated, after Lavender had somewhat gotten control of herself.

"I… I…," she hiccuped, "I'm not good enough to be a Lady, Hermione. I'm not… I'm not…" and she dissolved into another fit of tears. She got control of herself again. "I… lady… I'm no lady. I'm not fit to be a Lady."

"Who told you that?"

"My… my… grandmother. She always said that no Lord would ever want me. That I'm not fit to be a Lady. That I have nothing to offer other than taking all of his money for clothing."

"And you believe her?"

"She's my grandmother! She knows everything about our world! How could I not?"

"Wait. Harry's a Lord?"

She nodded. "And how. But neither of us knew that when we… became a couple."

"Doesn't… he want you?", she said, like she was choking out the words.

Lavender nodded. "He does… or he says he does… but he doesn't know how to be a Lord either. Will he still want me when he knows what being a Lord entails? Will I still be nothing but a pretty drain on his finances?"

Hermione frowned. "You really don't know him.," she said. It wasn't a question.

"I -"

Hermione shook her head. "No, you don't know him. If you knew him you wouldn't be worried. He… he is the most loyal boy I've ever seen. If he says something, he will do it or die trying. No, you don't know him at all." Her voice was sad.

"Then tell me about him."

Hermione sighed. "What do I say? He's one of… the most disgustingly noble boys I know. He charged right into a bathroom with a troll in it, just because I was in danger, and he and Ron defeated it. We all could have been killed, and that never even crossed his mind. I'm… still not sure it crosses his mind. After… after you-know-who was defeated, he could have had the run of the wizarding world, but he didn't want any of it. He stopped playing quidditch, even though he was good at it. He just didn't want the attention." She sighed. "When you're with him, it's like no one exists for him. HIs attention is only on you. And… and he really hates frauds and phoneys. Did you notice that during the Triwizard Tournament, he was the only one unaffected by that.. Veela? Every other boy was falling all over her," she said with disgust in her voice, "and he never even noticed. She was right offended, she was. I thought she was going to have every boy in the school trying to dry hump her when she turned her allure up to eleven. And he just kept eating."

Lavender sighed. "Yes, I've noticed that."

Hermione giggled softly. "I think that veela… Fleur? was going to blow a gasket."

She turned serious. "He's also… he's also easily hurt. And if you hurt him, you're going to have to answer to me. Remember what I did to Ron. You don't have bollocks, but… but I'll find something to kick."

Lavender giggled at that.

"I'm serious about that," Hermione said warningly.

"I know… but the way you phrased that…" she collapsed in giggles. Hermione smirked a bit. It was a little funny.

Lavender composed herself and kissed Hermione on the cheek. "Thanks, love," she said. Harry had just entered the room, so she hopped up and ran to him.

Hermione touched her cheek, watching Lavender's retreating form.

Lavender ran into Harry and threw her arms around him. As she was in the common room she only gave him a peck on the lips, but she whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry. I'll explain later." But she didn't let him go.

Harry just rolled his eyes, and thought to himself, "girls". Somes you had to pay them all sorts of attention, which of course he didn't mind doing, but sometimes you just kind of stood there, and the girl would just happen around you. But it was always nicer when you were getting along with your girlfriend, even if you had no idea whatsoever what had just happened.

The next morning, at breakfast, the three sat together as usual. They were eating and chatting, but that was broken when a howler arrived for Hermione.

HERMIONE GRANGER, HOW DARE YOU KICK MY SON IN THE BOLLOCKS! AND THREATENING TO MAKE THE TWINS' BOLLOCKS FALL OFF! I HAVE HALF A MIND TO TAKE YOU OVER MY KNEE MYSELF! AFTER ALL WE'VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ARE NO LONGER WELCOME AT OUR HOUSE! WE DEMAND SATISFACTION FOR YOUR INSULT TO OUR FAMILY!

The howler then ripped itself up. Many students were staring at Hermione - some with newfound respect, some with pure loathing. And a few were giggling. Ron just had a smug look on his face, though Fred and George appeared a little more reserved. A few students were openly laughing at Ron, though. As bad as Hermione got told off, he did get kicked in the bollocks by a girl.

Lavender paled. "I need to write my father. Right now." She looked at Hermione. "'We demand satisfaction' is a very particular choice of words in our culture, and there's no way she didn't know what she was saying. They may not be the best specimens of purebloods, but they are, nonetheless, purebloods. We must make sure you're protected, and immediately." She got up, and without another word, headed for the owlery.

Harry looked at Hermione and shrugged. "She was out of line for sending that howler. But I'm sure Cha - Lord Brown can help."

He shrugged. "Might want to eat fast. It may be an eventful morning."

About an hour later, and a half hour before classes started, Charles Brown stormed into the doors of the school. Lavender was waiting for him, along with Harry and Hermione.

"Lav-lav? What's the meaning of this? Why did you call me away from important business to come here in such a hurry?"

Lavender sighed. "Daddy, Ron Weasley insulted me and Hermione. Hermione heard it. She kicked him in the bollocks. Her mother just sent a howler demanding satisfaction."

Charles looked at Hermione. "You must be -"

"Hermione Granger."

"Charles Brown. Tell me what Mr. Weasley said."

"He… said no one would want me. And he called Lavender a trollop. Apparently he was upset because he couldn't get into her knickers after the Yule Ball."

"I see. Is there a place we can speak privately?"

They led him to a room off the Great Hall, for just these purposes.

They all had a seat.

"Here's the situation you find yourself in, Miss Granger. Mrs. Weasley has basically initiated a formal feud against your house. Since you are the only witch or wizard in your house, it's against you specifically. The Weasleys are not particularly powerful or influential, but they are purebloods, and that counts for probably far too much in our society. You need to be under the protection of a pureblood family, and now. How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"That makes you an adult, and makes this significantly easier. Miss Granger, do you consent to be placed under the protection of the Brown family?"

"What does that mean?"

Lavender spoke up. "It means that when someone messes with you, they mess with us, for want of better words. We have significantly more resources than you do. Harry could do it, but he's not yet a Lord, and he's a halfblood besides. His resources would probably suffice, but this is better."

"What do you want in return?"

Charles chuckled. "I would normally say 'beggars can't be choosers,' Miss Granger, as you find yourself up the proverbial creek without a paddle. But in any case, it's a legitimate question. In return, I will require you to take lessons on how to comport yourself in wizarding society, and I will require you to do your utmost to not bring shame upon the Brown family, as being a protectorate, in a very real way, makes you a part of our House. Which means, you don't kick anyone in the bollocks again, no matter how they provoke you." His voice was serious, but his lips twitched. "You must consider me as your Head of House, and take direction from me as appropriate. I realize you don't know me, but I really am a fair patriarch." His lips twitched a little more. "I'm not going to ask you to do anything that I wouldn't ask my own daughter."

She looked at Lavender. Lavender nodded. "He's fair. I promise."

"I still don't understand. Why do I need to do this? I've seen the twins do far worse to people with less provocation. Malfoy gets away with everything - he grabbed Lavender by her hair and they were going to hold Harry responsible for defending her. Why is this such a big deal?", she asked.

Charles sighed and frowned. "I don't honestly understand why they invite Muggleborns to Hogwarts," he mumbled to himself. Hermione looked hurt, but he put up his hand. "Don't misunderstand, Miss Granger. I have no problems with it on a philosophical basis. But they invite Muggleborns to the school, tell them absolutely nothing about the ways of the world, then after they graduate, they're often shocked that they can't get more than the most menial of jobs. Let me put it as starkly as I possibly can. You are a second class citizen. You will never amount to anything, on your own, in our society, because the purebloods control it. Harry here is an exception, but anyone wealthy enough can be an exception to anything."

Hermione looked like she was near tears, and the rage was building inside her.

"So, to answer your question, you need to do this because if you don't, you will not only be a second class citizen, but the best thing that will happen to you is they expel you from school, break your wand, and bind your magic. You assaulted a pureblood. That cannot be tolerated. Do you understand now?"

"That's…. Wrong!", she erupted.

"I happen to agree with you, Miss Granger. But I am but one person, as influential as I may be. So you have two options. Allow me to partially adopt you into my family as a protectee and vassal, and get at least an opportunity to change it from within, or I can leave right now and probably within a week you will have no memory of any of this. Which do you choose?"

She gritted her teeth. "Not that I have any choice…"

"You always have a choice," Charles interrupted. "Just, the choices we are offered, sometimes are between two less acceptable things.."

"Then I don't have a real choice," she said, defiantly. "What do I have to do?"

"You can be grateful," Charles said somewhat reprovingly. "I understand your anger, but I am trying to solve this problem for you. And, you can sign this paper." He produced a paper with his wand.

"Why are you trying to solve it for me? Why do you even care?"

"Ahh. That is a good question. They said you were smart. I care because you are a friend of Harry's, and Harry is, or will soon be, my daughter's betrothed, and you are his best friend and he trusts you." He looked at Harry. "Isn't that right?"

Harry nodded.

"Therefore, I trust you."

Without another word, she signed the paper.

He slapped the table, picked up the contract, then stood up. "Then I have some papers to file with the ministry. Once I have filed those papers, I will contact Mr. Weasley myself. You shouldn't have kicked their son in the bollocks. Demanding satisfaction from a muggleborn?" He shook his head. "What is this world coming to… Miss Granger… May I call you Hermione?"

"If I may call you Charles," she said.

He sighed. "A bit impertinent, truthfully, but if we're to be family, of a sort, then I suppose that's satisfactory. Hermione, please stay out of trouble from now on. If you have a problem, contact me. I am available by owl. And Lavender may be of more assistance than you know."

She nodded.

"I trust Lav-lav has invited you to our manor this weekend?"

"She has."

"Good. See that you come. You are going to take the same 'how to not get in trouble' classes that Harry will take. And I'm sure she has invited you for a makeover, but now it's a requirement." He gazed at her critically. "You're a pretty girl, and Harry tells me you are incredibly smart, too. You have potential. But we need to teach you to act like a member of a pureblood house."

Hermione nodded, nonplussed.

His face relaxed. "Truthfully, Hermione, I've heard stories. Mr. Weasley's mouth is only rivaled by Mr. Malfoy's. If you were going to pick someone to kick in the bollocks, well, you made a good choice." He chuckled. "I will see you this weekend. Harry, can you stay back for a second?"

He nodded, and Hermione and Lavender dutifully filed out. Hermione's face was stil thunderous, but Lavender started chatting inanely at her as they left. Once the door closed, Charles looked at Harry piercingly.

"You've made your choice?"

Harry nodded.

"It's her?"

Harry nodded again.

Charles sighed. "This will really put a stick up some of the more traditional purebloods arses. A Muggleborn as Lady Black?" He shook his head. And then he grinned. "I'm looking forward to it. She's very rough around the edges, Harry. She's going to hate some things about our world. But she has potential. We'll make a Lady out of her yet. Who knows," he said, wistfully. "Maybe she'll make a difference after all."

"She doesn't know yet."

He nodded. "Let's start with the protection and go from there. Lavender's been itching for a project, anyway. We can bring up the subject once she has acclimated to her situation, and understands the impact she could make as your Lady. I fear right now she'd, how would you say, freak out."

Both men chuckled, and Charles saw himself out. Harry went to class.

That evening, they found themselves in "their" room.

"You said you'd explain," Harry said, as they sat on the blanket and she crawled in his lap.

She put her head on her shoulder. Oh, how she missed this. "My… grandmother always told me I wouldn't make a good Lady. And now… now I'm going to be a Lady."

"I'm beginning to not like your grandmother."

She huffed. "You aren't the first to have said that, and you won't be the last."

"How do we get past this?," he asked, as he slid his hands under her shirt. She gasped softly.

"Just… be patient," she said. "Apparently this is something… oooo…. I need to work through."

He nodded. "I think I agree," he said. "But we both have our things. I need to learn how to be a Lord."

She gasped as he pinched a particularly sensitive spot. "Harry?", she said, quietly.

"Yes?"

"Stop talking and shag me."

Half an hour later, their sated bodies were tangled together, their sweat mingling, the smell of sex strong in the room.

"Oh, Harry, I needed that so bad," she sighed, her insides still spasming very slightly, the post-coital warmth just starting to overtake her. "I… hmmm… it just feels so good being with you."

"I hate it when we argue," he said.

"Won't be the last time," she said drowsily. "Why are you so warm?"

"Same reason you're so delicious," he said, and licked her nose. She giggled.

"I have a question," Harry said.

She was quiet and snuggled in deeper.

"When Hermione… joins… will you… and her…?", he asked, tentatively.

"Harry!," she said, scandalized, and swatted his rump. "He" involuntarily twitched.

"I don't know how these things work," he said defensively. "And it's a valid question!"

She sighed. "Yes, it is, but you need to work on timing. Because apparently the thought is very interesting to you, considering how you're poking me."

He blushed. "Well, I am a man"

"You are," she said, "Why does that excite men so much?," she asked, puzzledly.

He didn't hesitate. "Lavender… four breasts?," he said, like she was asking the stupidest question in the world.

She couldn't help herself. She busted out laughing. "What, is two not enough for you?"

"It's plenty," he said, earnestly. "But… but… four breasts!"

She sighed. "Sometimes you're such a boy. Oh well. I guess it's normal." She thought. "I guess… I don't know either. The few pureblood families with multiple wives keep that to themselves." She was quiet for a moment. "I… don't know. Honestly, I don't. Even if she were up for that sort of thing, which I don't know if she would be… it's not… something people really do. Or at least they don't talk about it." She thought more. "But I don't suppose people would care too much one way or another unless it were preventing either of us from making an heir for you. I also suppose having as much money and influence as you will would… grease things significantly."

She paused. "Would you want both of us… at the same time?"

"Is there a wrong answer?"

She thought for a moment. "Honestly, no. I'm curious. It doesn't mean I, or she, would. But I'm genuinely interested in the answer."

He thought for a moment. "I… don't know. It's a tough question. I won't deny I'd thought about it."

"I wouldn't have expected anything less from a boy."

"Four breasts!", he said, defensively. She busted out laughing again. "Why do you like them so much?," she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice. "They're just inconvenient bags of flesh!"

He thought for a moment. "It's like… asking you why you like dessert so much," he said.

"Are you saying I'm fat?"

"No!", he said, quickly. "Not at all. But you do like dessert, right?"

She nodded.

"Well, it's just some ingredients mixed together with sugar."

"But it tastes so… ohhh," she said.

He nodded. "It's like I have a sweet tooth for them. They're soft and squishy and feel and taste and smell very good… and when I touch them it seems to drive you nuts… like this," he flicked a pink nub and she squeaked. "But if you ask why I like them… well, I just do."

"You didn't answer my question," she said, and was rewarded by getting poked harder. "Or did you?" she said, and swatted his arm.

"I… I don't know. I think I prefer focusing my attention on one girl at a time, but I'd be willing to try it," he said.

She thought. "I don't know if I like a girl's body or not," she said, finally. "But… I do know beauty when I see it. Maybe that's not all that different." She pushed one of hers up and licked her own nub. "Feels good," she said, "But much better when you do it. Oi, quit poking me!", she pouted.

"Hermione has a nice body," she said. "I'm genuinely looking forward to giving her a makeover. I don't think she knows how beautiful she is… or could be. Her face has a nice shape, her body is well proportioned, if a little on the skinny side, her complexion is clear. I have no idea what I'm going to do with her hair," she said thoughtfully "But all that said… I don't know if I'd want her… that way. Not even if we're both in bed with you. Why do you keep poking me, Harry?"

He turned red.

"I know, I know… four breasts." She giggled.

He laughed. "You understand me!," he exclaimed, just a bit too loudly.

She reached down and stoked him. "Really, Harry, you pretty clearly are excited by the thought."

He gasped. "I… can't deny it," he said, finally.

She let go, and flopped over on her back, legs and arms splayed out invitingly. "Let's take care of that problem, love. Ready for round two?," she asked, softly.

He climbed on top of her, and looked her straight in the eye. "Always," he said, and taking his time, very slowly and deliberately brought her to another crashing peak of pleasure. Just before she lost control of her body, she grabbed his face and mashed her mouth against his, pouring every bit of emotion she had into the kiss. And then her arms flailed, her eyes rolled back, her legs locked around his back, and she lost every thought but one.

I am completely in love with this boy.

And then even that thought was washed away as, with a scream, the delicious fire consumed her body.

That afternoon, Charles filed the necessary paperwork with the Ministry to make Hermione his protectorate. What he hadn't told her is that it was actually a form of adoption, but he was trying to grease those wheels as much as he could. Not only did this give him the excuse he needed to start training her in the wizard ways, it would soften her up a little bit for when Harry eventually popped the question to her. He wasn't at all lying - Mrs. Weasley truly did put her in a position from which she would not have been able to easily extricate herself, but as a good pureblood, there was no reason he couldn't kill two hippogriffs with one curse.

After he did that, he went to visit Arthur Weasley.

He knocked on the door of Arthur's office, and he heard "enter". As he entered, he saw that Arthur was playing with a multicolored cube.

"It's fascinating," Arthur said. "It doesn't seem to have any purpose, but all of these parts turn."

"Mr. Weasley, we have a problem.", he said without preamble.

Arthur looked up. "Oh? What's that? Lord Brown, is it?"

He nodded. "Are you aware that your wife basically declared a feud on Miss Granger this morning?

"She… what?"

Charles sighed. "So, here's the story as I understand it. Hermione overheard Ron saying some pretty unsavory things about both my daughter and Miss Granger to Harry. Harry wasn't having any of it, but the damage was done. The next day, Hermione and Ron had words, and she kicked him in the bollocks."

Both men involuntarily cringed.

"Apparently your wife found out, I imagine Ron told her, and sent a Howler to Miss Granger in the Great Hall telling her that she demands satisfaction."

Arthur sighed. "This is all fine and good, but what business is it of yours? As much as I may like Hermione, she's a Muggleborn. There's not much to be done. I wish my wife hadn't done it, but…"

Charles frowned. "Well, then, Mr. Weasley, perhaps it would help if I told you that, as of today, she is a vassal of my house?" The last part of that sentence was delivered a little gruffly.

He frowned. "It would, actually. I will talk to my wife."

"Please accept the apologies of my house for the actions of Miss Granger. Conversely, I will be expecting an apology from your house for the actions of your son towards both my daughter and Miss Granger, and for your wife's overreaction. You may take the time you need to investigate the situation, but if such an apology is not forthcoming, I may demand satisfaction of my own."

Arthur paled slightly. "Noted, Lord Brown. Is there anything else?"

Charles stood up. "There is not, Mr. Weasley. Do have a good day." He walked out of the office without waiting for a response.

Arthur sighed. Why did his wife keep getting him into these pickles.

Lucius Malfoy sat in his drawing room, infuriated. "Stupid bloody goblins," he muttered.

"What's wrong, dear?," Narcissa asked dutifully, as she brought him a cup of tea.

"I asked the Goblins yet again about the will of Sirius Black. They were just obtuse as ever, but their response has changed since the last time I asked. Here…", he said, and tossed the letter across the table to her.

She primly took it, and read. "They… cannot release the name of the heir for privacy reasons?"

"Previously they had said that the heir could not be determined due to insufficient information."

She frowned. "After all that trouble…"

"My son should be the heir! You are the last Black! Why is he not the heir?" He grabbed the letter from her and tossed it on the ground.

She sighed. It looked like he was going to work himself up into a frenzy again. Time to make herself scarce.

A/N: So here is my response to those who said making Hermione Lady Black would ruin the story. She's going to be Lady Black. Consider the story ruined.

However, I agreed with those who said the *canon* Hermione would ruin the story. I took that to heart. This Hermione is a little OOC. She's going to kick bollocks and take names. Well, it appears so anyway.

So, don't like, don't read. I did change the pairing in the story.

Also, we now see why Lavender is so insecure. I think she'll start to work through that now. I don't promise it won't rear its head again. So, on that note, let me say this: I'm writing humans. Humans have flaws. Lavender has flaws, her parents have flaws, Hermione has flaws, and Harry has flaws. Lavender's is that she's insecure. If you don't like that I'm writing humans, go elsewhere.

I only have one thing to say in addition: I'm writing this fanfic as a gift. I'm not getting paid for it, and frankly, it's taking time away from other things that I want to do, like study Japanese. I appreciate constructive criticism. Grammar errors. Questions about character motivations. Suggestions on how the plot I've chosen could be improved. Some reviewers had great feedback which I have incorporated into the story. But what I don't take kindly to is my plot choices themselves being trashed. That is part of the gift I'm giving you. If you don't want it, well, at least don't be rude, and leave the party. There are a million fanfics. A million and one if you write your own. I confess to be a little cheesed at the entitled tone of some reviews. And that's all I'll say about that.

Next chapter: Harry's weekend, Hermione's makeover, "How to not get in trouble" lessons, Gringotts, and a few other goodies.