Arthur Weasley stepped out of the floo that evening, and tiredly put his bag on the table. He was going to have to have the kind of conversation he did not like to have with his wife. However, he was a pureblood husband of a pureblood family, and as much as he preferred to take a light touch, he was going to have to play a role he hated playing.

"Moly, come here please," he said.

"Oh, Hi, Arthur," she said loudly from the kitchen, as pans were clanking. "I was just - "

"Molly, is there anything you're doing that won't wait five minutes?"

"No, but -"

"Then, Molly Weasley, COME HERE," he said, allowing his voice to raise just a little. She sighed audibly, and the clanking stopped. She hurried out of the kitchen. "Arthur, What is… it,", she faltered, seeing the expression on his face.

"Molly," he sighed, "Did you, or did you not, start a blood feud with a muggleborn?"

Her face turned thunderous. "Didn't you hear what she -"

He held up his hand. "I know what she did. I also know what our son did to provoke her."

"We accepted her as if she were our own family, and she - "

He facepalmed. "Molly, for once in your life, shut up and listen to me. We are a pureblood family, you are a pureblood wife, and it's time you acted like one for a change. Now do you have any idea the trouble you've gotten our family into with one of your infernal howlers?"

"Trouble?," She said, her face furrowed in thought. "How could a muggleborn -"

He interrupted. "As a very result of your calling a blood feud against Hermione Granger-Brown -"

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"Yes, she was made a protectorate of the Brown family, influential purebloods in their own right. They now represent her, she has been partially adopted into their family, and your blood feud is with them. And while Miss Granger-Brown herself can't do much according to our laws, they can."

"But - how -"

"How is not important. I was forced to apologize for our son's behavior, as it seems he said some very naughty things about both their daughters."

She sighed. "He's never known when to shut up."

"Much like his mother," Arthur said with a straight face. Her face turned thunderous, and he raised his hand. "The truth hurts, Molly, but you got us into this mess with your mouth, and you're going to get us out of it. I am going to invite the Browns for dinner soon, and you are going to apologize to them, both for our son's actions, and for your howler. You will rescind the blood feud. And the next time you see Miss Granger-Brown, you will apologize to her as well. I will not have our family involved with a blood feud with another family simply because you can't keep your mouth shut."

"Arthur, you can't -"

"I can and I will." He sighed. "I know we're not the most influential of pureblood families. I know that I am far more lax with the Old Ways than most pureblood families are. And I know that we have suffered for it financially. Nonetheless, I have valued a happy and loving home over the trappings of wealth and luxury that the others value. We have seven children who are my greatest treasures, and I have a wife whom I love very much. But there's only so far we can push before it becomes a problem. And you crossed that line, Molly. I know you love your family, but you need to control your temper and stop sending howlers!"

She deflated. "Yes, My Lord."

"Molly, don't be -"

"I'm not. You're right. We're a pureblood family, and I've forgotten my place. I don't mean to be like this, Arthur. It's just… someone attacks my family, and I react. Even if one of our children is the one who provokes them."

He walked up to her and put his arms around her. "I'm sorry I had to say that, Molly. You know I hate the role I have to play sometimes."

She sniffled. "I hate it too, dear. I guess I send howlers because… because I don't know what else to do. They're off at school, and…"

"Just keep it in the family. I'm sure Miss Granger-Brown regrets her actions. And even if she doesn't, our son earned everything he got." He sighed. "He always does."

That weekend, Harry, Lavender, and Hermione made their way to Hogsmeade and flooed to the Brown manor early in the morning, as there was much to cover.

Harry watched Hermione, Lavender, and Sakura dive through the floo - pretty much literally, as Lavender obviously could not wait and pull-dragged Hermione through the floo with her. He shook his head and sighed with relief.

Charles chuckled. "Miss them already?"

"Yeah, but I'm glad I'm not there," he said. "I don't think I could keep up."

"No one can keep up with my daughter when she's on a mission," Charles chuckled. "Hermione is her project now, and she's bloody good at it. Wait until you see what she does with Hermione. I bet you won't recognize her."

"I won't take that bet," Harry grinned.

"Smart man, though I'd love to win a few galleons off you. I'd be more concerned about what she has planned for you," Charles said conspirationally. Harry groaned. Charles chuckled. "Here's a rule for life, Harry. Every woman comes with a list of things you're just going to have to deal with. And frequent and interminable shopping trips are one of hers."

"One of -?"

"Harry, we raised our daughter the best we knew how. And I'm pretty proud of how she turned out. Honestly - I'm not just saying that because I'm her father. She is grounded, considering her circumstances of life, she has a good head on her shoulders. She's not a dumb girl by any means. She is… a joy to be around and she really does love life." Charles rubbed his temple. "She is also impulsive, a little flighty, enjoys shiny, pretty, and delicious things, is obsessed with clothing, beauty, and what the muggles would call 'pop culture', and wraps the men in her life around her little finger without even knowing it."

Harry looked puzzled. "I have a question."

"Ask, of course. Let's sit down first. We have a lot of work to do anyway." They both sat at a table that Charles had already piled with folders and papers.

"Why do people in this world use muggle sayings, like you just did?"

"That… is a good question." Charles thought for a moment. "The wizarding world is not large. Not in Britain, and not everywhere. There are some cultural concepts that we are simply not large enough to have created a word for. Pop culture, for example. We really don't have a pop culture. We have the Weird Sisters, Celestina Warbeck, and a few other artists - and that's it. Our fashion scene is basically limited to Witch Weekly and a few clothiers scattered about. So sometimes we have to use muggle words or phrases simply because that's where they originated." Charles sighed. "But, I suppose, we're too proud to actually assimilate them, so we just say 'As the muggles would say'".

Harry nodded. "I've always wondered about that. It seems sometimes like we're obsessed with the muggles."

"It's hard to keep their influence at arm's length, especially with so many muggleborns and half-bloods coming into Hogwarts and bringing their concepts and attitudes with them. Why do you think the purebloods are so zealous about keeping them out of positions of power? Why do you think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came to power? Even through you vanquished him, the attitudes live on. And they're not entirely unwarranted."

"But -"

"He was evil. I know that. Everyone in our world knows that. But purebloods hated the encroaching influence of muggles so much that they were willing to subjugate themselves to… that…" Charles shuddered, "rather than to allow the muggle influence to proceed any further."

Harry thought. "Is Hermione really a good idea as Lady Black?"

"I think so," Charles said, "and I confess I would take great pleasure in watching those inbred bints get hoisted by their own petard. But, this is why educating Hermione is so important. She can't really be a… what's that muggle thing where people yell and shout and make asses of themselves just to get people annoyed enough with them to give them what they want if they'll just go away… oh, yes. Activist. Word of her escapades with the house elves reached me even here." He chuckled. "They call her 'she-who-makes-clothes', you know. She has to know what the rules are and work within them. She's… idealistic. And rough. But she's smart. I think she can do it."

"What happens if she fails?"

Charles sighed. "They'll chew her up and spit her out."

Harry looked deep in thought.

"Lavender is very familiar with muggle fashion, Harry, and has more than a passing knowledge of their music and technology. The simple fact is, while our world has many wonders that theirs doesn't, we simply cannot compete when it comes to the things in which she is interested, as they have rather quite a few more people than we do, and fashion and pop culture are, first and foremost, a crowd phenomenon. We've done our best to indulge her interests. I can't say we've always succeeded," he said sadly. "Perhaps your being raised by muggles is something that is attractive to her."

"If she knew those muggles, maybe she'd think differently," Harry said bitterly.

"I don't think so. You're familiar with their culture. That's something no pureblood could offer her. So much the better that you're filthy rich now, and thus, the purebloods can't really object much to your coupling."

"They'd object otherwise?"

"Maybe behind closed doors, but there would be a lot of muttering and murmuring, and her social status would take a definite hit. But there's no use dwelling on what won't be," he said, calmly. "Speaking of your wealth, we have some work to do," he said, pointing at the folders and papers scattered across the table. "The Goblins have been dropping some pretty unsubtle hints that there's something there we should be looking for. Maybe we should see if we can figure out what they're trying to tell us."

An hour later, a significantly less jovial Charles and Harry were sitting at a table, with papers and files scattered all over the place. Charles rubbed his eyes. Harry was seething.

"So, let me get this straight," Harry said quietly. "Every month, gold was taken out of my account, ostensibly for my upkeep. I never saw a dime of it. So, either the Dursleys took my money and still treated me like shite, or they never saw it."

"50 Galleons is a lot of money," Charles said just as quietly. "And you never saw any of it?"

Harry opened his robes and showed his hand-me-down Muggle clothes, as Lavender hadn't yet had a chance to take him on her promised shopping spree. "These are all the clothes I have. They never fed me, sometimes I'd go a week without anything to eat. And you saw the scars…"

"This is something that will definitely need to be addressed," Charles said, "But this in itself isn't really inappropriate, except for perhaps the size. Certainly nothing worthy of the Goblins strongly hinting about malfeasance. Let's dig a little deeper."

Harry pointed at a line item. "What's this?"

Charles looked closer. "That… I'm not sure what that is. It's marked as a routine withdrawal for estate upkeep."

"Why is the beneficiary A. Dumbledore?"

"I… don't know. What does the Headmaster have to do with my estate?"

"As the Goblins pointed out, he's your magical guardian. And even a dormant estate such as yours requires a certain amount of outlay to keep it minimally running. See here, there's one every month. But this one is… significantly larger than past months." He pulled his eyes off the papers and looked at Harry. "We can bring this up with your barrister. You have a right to a full accounting of where that money went. But…"

"But?"

"Albus Dumbledore is a tricky one. He's got a lot of fancy and important titles that people are intimidated by. It might take quite a bit of wrangling to get him to cough up the goods."

"Why was it sent to his account instead of just paid out to the… vendors?"

"That's not too irregular - as your magical guardian, he certainly has the right to pay out of his own account and then reimburse himself. But, I agree. Paired with the Goblins' warnings, this should at least be investigated further."

Harry sighed. "Wouldn't be the first time I got screwed by those who were supposed to be looking out for me, would it?"

"Unfortunately not," Charles said sadly. "Let's go see your barrister."

Meanwhile, Sakura looked on amusedly as Lavender was going absolutely bonkers. After having exhausted the offerings at Gladrags, Madame Malkins, and every single other clothier in wizarding England, Lavender had now dragged Hermione over to Harrods, where she was now just sitting semi naked in a changing room while Lavender fed her clothing to try on.

"Try this," Lavender said, barging into the room with another dress. "I think it'll look good on you."

Hermione sighed, and looked almost near tears. Lavender paused. "What's wrong?"

Hermione stood up and threw her arms out. "This! This is what's wrong!"

"What do you mean? Is it - are you -"

"This isn't me!", Hermione exploded. "I'm a bloody bookworm! I read and pass tests and piss off house elves! Who'd… Who want this?," she said, looking morosely down at herself. "Who'd want this?," she repeated, and sunk down onto the bench, putting her head in her hands. Her bare stomach was twitching as she lightly sobbed.

Lavender sighed and sat down next to her. "Has… has anyone told you you're pretty before?"

Hermione sniffled. "Just… just your father."

"Not even yours?"

Hermione looked at Lavender balefully. "My… my parents don't see me as a girl. They… they expect a lot from me."

"You poor girl," Lavender said quietly. "Every girl needs to be told she's beautiful sometimes."

"But I'm not," Hermione's voice cracked. "I'm… I'm… me!," she said, frustratedly.

"You are, Hermione!," Lavender hissed. "Look at yourself! Your breasts are perfect, your hips are full, you're a bit on the skinny side but well proportioned, maybe your hair is a little wild but have you even tried to tame it? You're beautiful, but you don't think you are, so you don't act like you are!"

Hermione stood up and looked in the mirror, an unfamiliar girl in white knickers and bra looking back at her. She turned to her left, then to her right, looking at herself critically. Then she turned around and threw her arms around Lavender. "I can be beautiful!," she said. "Thank you!"

Lavender patted Hermione's bare back. "No, you are beautiful, honey. We're just going to show the world what's already there. Now try these clothes on. I'm sure you're hungry and we've still got a lot to do."

Lavender left the changing room, and Hermione wiped her eyes. Then, with just a bit of a spring in her step, she slid the next dress over herself and went to model for Lavender.

After lunch, Sakura went off to do some of her own shopping, and Lavender pretty much literally dragged Hermione over to a hairstylist.

"Welcome to Miracle Workers Hairstyling," the lady behind the counter said. She was an o;der lady, in her mid 50s, but had an air of mothering to her. Hermione instantly liked her. Lavender said, resolutely, "I need a miracle for my friend here."

She looked at Hermione appraisingly, who was looking a bit apprehensive. "I think I can work with this," she said. "What kind of style would you like?"

"You can?," Hermione asked, dumbfounded.

"I can," she said. "You have thick hair, and that's the big reason it's so wild. It's hard to tame thick hair. But we can do this."

"Don't make me someone I'm not," Hermione said resolutely, as she was led over to a chair. "Don't make my hair raven black or straight and sleek or anything like that. Just… make it pretty."

The proprietor laughed. "I'm not that much of a miracle worker!," she said, then backtracked a bit when she saw the look on Hermione's face. "I mean the straight, sleek part, not the pretty part. Have you ever had your hair done?"

Hermione relaxed and shook her head.

"Lean your head back here. We have to wash it first."

Five minutes later Hermione was literally moaning as the proprietor's fingers were massaging her scalp.

"Why didn't anyone ever tell me this felt so good?," she moaned. "This is… like heaven!"

The proprietor smiled. "Dear, you really need more girl time."

Hermione's eyes closed. "I do. I really do." Lavender giggled, one of the other stylists was doing her hair too.

Afterwards, she stood up and looked in the mirror. "Lavender… that's…" she shook her head, and saw her hair bounce. "That's amazing!"

Lavender paid the proprietor, and they left. "We're not done yet, we still have to give you a facial and get your nails done."

Two hours later, Lavender and Hermione left the nail salon. Hermione was wearing a very flattering dress that left everything to the imagination, but in a way that left you thinking it didn't. Her hair was bouncy, her face was glowing, her lips were glossy.

"Lavender, thank you so much for today! I…" she twirled. "I feel beautiful for the first time in my life!" She giggled. "I feel like a girl!"

"You are beautiful," Lavender said, "just like I told you. And you're a girl too."

Hermione blushed as she felt the gaze of a boy on her for the first time in her life. "I… don't look," she said, mortified.

"See though? Boys think you're beautiful too."

She smiled. "I… I guess they do. Let's get something to eat. I'm starving and you are a harsh mistress when it comes to fashion."

Lavender laughed, a belly laugh. "I guess I am. Come, my slave, now that I have had my fashion way with you, we must fill your stomach, I will not have my fashion slaves have ribs showing!"

Hermione giggled. "Yes, mistress," she said, with a smirk, and they went off to find Sakura and get some food.

A/N: This isn't a long chapter, and I will try to keep this A/N down to a minimum. I've been told they can be a bit long.

I have always had in mind to finish this story, but it's been an extraordinarily difficult year, so cut me some slack, please. This chapter is as much to just keep the story alive as it is to move it forward. I feel bad for not updating, but life is what it is, and as I've said before, it's a gift.

Hermione and Lavender are NOT going to end up in some kind of kinky relationship. They're joking with each other. Not to say they couldn't play around in the future, nor to say they will, nor to say if they do I'll document it here, but a lot of fics here tend to go off the deep end with that kind of thing, and that is not one of those rocks I want to turn over here.

This is not a bashing fic. I will not bash Molly, nor even Ron. I really prefer to write humans, and I really hate writing fics where no one has redeeming qualities.