Bad Hair Day

It seemed rather out of character for a mirror to breathe a sigh of relief, but this one managed it nevertheless. "Oh, finally!"

Harry ignored the remark; he was too busy studying his reflection with growing horror. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this. Look at me, I look twenty years older than I did before!"

Draco was unimpressed. "Don't be ridiculous. You look much better like that."

Harry scowled at the mirror, as if it was personally responsible for his plight. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. You look like a man who's going bald and accepts it with dignity now, whereas before - "

" - you looked like a bloke with a ridiculous comb-over," the mirror supplied.

Harry pointed a threatening finger at the glass. "Shut up, you, or I'll get a Muggle mirror that doesn't talk back!"

"There, there," Draco said soothingly, which irked Harry even more, "it's not the mirror's fault you don't like your reflection."

"No, but I still won't take any cheek from an animated piece of glass!"

"You're just bitter because it has more fashion sense than you." Draco gave him a self-satisfied smirk. "It has been begging you to get rid of that denial hairdo for years, hasn't it?"

"Yes, but you made me listen to it." Harry gave Draco a pointed look. "By the way, I'll have you know that your own hair is beginning to thin at the top, so I suppose I'll get a chance to find out how you like going bald before long."

"Don't be ridiculous." Draco dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand, but it wasn't lost on Harry how he still cast a quick glance into the mirror. "No Malfoy in living memory has ever gone bald."

"Perhaps, but no Malfoy in living memory lived to see his eightieth birthday, remember? Seems you've reached uncharted territory, where anything can happen."

"Very funny." Draco gave up his pretence of nonchalance and, leaning closer to the mirror, inspected his reflection carefully. "My hair is not thinning, Harry. It's not even going white yet."

"Well, white hairs would be next to impossible to spot with a hair colour like yours. Do you want your glasses to make sure?"

Draco cast him a murderous glance; the fact that he needed reading glasses still didn't sit well with him. To add insult to injury, the myopia of Harry's younger years had somehow been evened out by age-related long-sightedness so that he didn't need glasses any longer, which gave Harry no small amount of smug satisfaction.

"This is nonsense." Draco squared his shoulders. "I'm not going bald, but if I ever do, I assure you that I'll bear it with a lot more grace than you."

"Of course you will." Turning back to the mirror, Harry couldn't help adding, "You heard that, didn't you? Promise me you'll remind him when the time comes."

Somehow, the mirror managed to give the impression that it was smirking. "You bet I will."

"Then I suppose the matter is settled." Harry leaned closer to Draco, who was still scowling at his reflection, and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, I won't leave you if you go bald."

Draco turned to look at Harry; for a second, he seemed close to giving a scathing reply, but then his expression softened. "That's good to know." He raised a hand in the direction of the mirror. "And if you say 'Aw' now, I will personally replace you with a piece of Muggle glassware."

"Wouldn't dream of it," the mirror replied meekly.

"Very wise. Are we finally done here, Harry? I'd prefer to begin our planned afternoon walk while it is still afternoon; it gets chilly rather soon in the evening."

Harry rolled his eyes. "If that is a reminder to wear a scarf, then don't worry, Mummy, I will."

Draco didn't take the bait. "See that you do. I'll get our cloaks; do you want your walking stick?"

"No need, the knee isn't troubling me today."

Only when Draco had left the room, the mirror said, very quietly, "Aw."

Harry smiled and went to get his scarf.