For Your Love

A/N: Well, it's time to wrap up all those loose ends. Only one more chapter and an Epilogue after this (which will be posted together next week). You've all been great, thank you so much for your comments and encouragement. And for reading!

* * *

Chapter 24 - Draco's Confession

Harry's eyes blinked open. A smoky darkness surrounded him and an acrid smell was in the air. He coughed and a searing pain shot through him.

"Harry?" a voice said.

He groaned and rolled over, clutching his side. A hand reached out and touched him, and he felt Ginny's fingers close over his.

"Harry?" she asked again. "Are you alright?"

"What happened?" he said, clutching her hand as he tried to sit up. "Are you hurt, are you okay?"

"Yes, I... I think so. Oh, Harry, I thought... I thought you were..." Ginny began to sob and Harry dragged himself towards her, pulling her into his arms.

"I'll be alright," he said as she clung to him. "It was Voldemort all along. He knew about Tom, he knew about us..." Harry squinted his eyes in the darkness, half expecting to see Voldemort standing there ready to curse them again. But there was nothing.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Ginny cried. "I never meant for you to sacrifice yourself for me."

Harry closed his eyes, knowing that no amount of sacrifice was too much if it meant that she was safe. "I told you I would, didn't I?" he whispered. "And you said the same."

"Yes," she said, sniffling, "but let's not ever do it again."

He smiled and kissed the top of her head, resting his cheek on her hair as he looked through the thick air. As his eyes adjusted, he finally saw the image of a corpse lying several feet away, thin wisps of smoke still rising from it. He felt around on the ground for his wand, picking it up and pointing it at the body as he disentangled himself from Ginny.

"Where are you going?" she asked anxiously.

"I have to know," Harry said, crawling toward Voldemort with his wand at the ready. "I want to know if he's really dead."

Ginny huddled against the wall, her heart pounding. "The killing curse rebounded and hit him right in the chest. I watched it, Harry. There was a horrible sound, he was screeching like an animal. And then he fell."

Harry covered his nose against the smell as he looked into the hollow face of Lord Voldemort, lying prone on the ground. His skin had already begun to sink in around his bones and his fang-like teeth were exposed in an almost maniacal grin.

Ginny crawled up alongside him and shuddered as she looked on the body. "You saved me," she whispered. "Your gave yourself up for me."

"No. My mother was willing to sacrifice herself for me, too, but she died," Harry said, a sadness welling up in his throat. "I think we saved each other. Because you gave up yourself for me, too." He looked into her dirty, bloody, tear-stained face and felt like his heart would burst. He couldn't believe how much he loved this girl.

"I'm going to send for Dumbledore," he said, raising his wand.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny breathed. "It's over. I can't believe it's over."

Harry reached for her hand and squeezed it tight. "It's over," he echoed, and her touch was all he needed to conjure up his happiest memory.

"Expecto Patronum!" he spoke, and his Patronus, a brilliant white stag, burst out of his wand and galloped around the cave, illuminating them and the body. "Bring Dumbledore," he said to it. "Tell him Voldemort's dead."

As the stag galloped away to deliver the message, Harry felt the adrenaline drain out of him and he slumped over. Ginny caught him and laid his head on her lap.

"Harry?" she said nervously.

"It's alright, I'm still here," he said, squeezing her arm as it circled his chest. "You were brilliant, you know," he whispered. "I knew you could do it."

"I couldn't have done it without that potion you gave me," she said. "What was that anyway, it tasted awful!"

"It wasn't a potion. It was Ron's idea actually. He found a book that talked about using Legilicor powers to sever soul connections, then he remembered that dragon's blood can give a person extra inner-strength. He put two and two together and owled Charlie in Romania. Hedwig had just come back with it when I came to find you."

Ginny looked at him with wide eyes. "You made me drink dragon's blood?"

"Well, you have to admit, it did have rather spectacular results," Harry said. He fell into a fit of coughing and then moaned pitifully.

"Alright," Ginny said firmly. "No more sacrifices and no more drinking blood!"

Harry smiled weakly. "Deal."

Ginny hugged him to her, whispering soothing words to him until a rustling sound caught their attention and Albus Dumbledore rushed into the cave, followed closely by Professor Snape and, to Harry and Ginny's surprise, Draco Malfoy.

"Harry, Ginny, are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, more concerned with them for the moment than with the fallen body beside them.

"Harry needs help," Ginny said.

"You both need help by the looks of it," Dumbledore said, taking in Ginny's appearance as well. He knelt down and put his hand on Harry's shoulder, who turned to him with weary eyes. "You've waited a long time for this. We all have. The gratitude of the wizarding world will be yours for years to come. It seems that Lord Voldemort has underestimated you for the last time," he said, casting a morose glance at the body of his former student turned Dark Lord.

"It wasn't just me. Ginny fought her share of the battle as well," Harry said.

"Yes, I can see that she did," Dumbledore said kindly, "and I will be most interested to hear both of your accounts of what happened once you have recovered. I am sorry that you felt I was less than forthcoming with you at times, Harry, but I never lost faith that you would find the answer within yourself when the time came," he said, casting a soft smile in Ginny's direction, and Harry thought his twinkling eyes seemed unusually bright.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said humbly, a lump rising in his own throat as well.

"But now," the headmaster continued, "Madam Pomfrey is awaiting your arrival. There's nothing more for you to do here. Go and have some rest."

Professor Snape knelt over the body of the Dark Lord, his face a mixture of shock and fear. "We haven't much time, Albus," Snape cut in. "He is indeed dead, and the Mark will begin to fade very quickly now. The Death Eaters will be alerted if we do not strike soon."

"Yes, you are right, Severus," Dumbledore said. "But I must see Harry and Ginny to the castle first. There is no need for them to endure more than they already have. I will be quick and when I return, we will go ahead with our plan."

"Professor," Harry asked in a low voice as the headmaster and Ginny helped him to stand. "Why is Malfoy here? What plan?"

"Later, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I will explain everything once you are recovered. Mr. Malfoy is here under my protection, and that is all you need to know for now."

Harry reluctantly accepted this and looked past Voldemort's body to where Draco stood in the shadows.

"Well done, Potter," Malfoy said, stepping forward, his face impassive.

Harry stared at his old adversary and gave a quick nod, feeling that he still only knew half the story.

Once the three had left the cave, Draco turned to address Professor Snape. "Sir," he said gravely, "I'd like to be the one to do it."

Snape looked at him in surprise. "Are you certain, Draco? It is quite painful."

"The Dark Lord has destroyed my family and driven the pureblood wizards almost to extinction," Draco said, raising his chin in defiance. "There is no other way to restore honor to our world than to rid it of him and his followers once and for all. You taught me that. I'm ready."

Snape nodded proudly at the young man that he and Dumbledore had taken under their wing in the hopes of teaching him the true meaning of honor and wizarding pride. It had not been easy to convince the young man that his father had made the wrong choice in following Voldemort. But in time he had come to accept that the wizarding world could not survive under Voldemort's reign and that their best chance of bringing their world back to its full glory lay in helping Harry Potter fulfill his destiny, regardless of their personal feelings toward him. Dumbledore had offered him the position of Head Boy in return for his loyalty and Draco had seized at the opportunity, knowing that that at least would have made his father proud.

Snape nodded. "Very well. We will wait to see what the headmaster says, but I believe you have earned the right to make your own decisions concerning this matter."

They waited, looking uncomfortably at the corpse of their supposed master.

"Do you think he ever could have been truly great?" Draco asked.

Severus was quiet for a moment before answering in a low voice, "No."

Professor Dumbledore strode back into the cave, having made sure that Harry and Ginny were safely delivered to the hospital wing. "Quickly, Severus," he said. "We must act now."

Snape picked up the fallen wand at Voldemort's side and looked to Draco, who stepped forward and rolled up his left sleeve, exposing the Dark Mark that had been burnt into his forearm by Voldemort himself just a few months before.

"Draco has said that he would like for the summons to come from him, and I have agreed," said Snape, poising the Dark Lord's wand over the boy's arm. "With your permission, of course," he added, waiting for Dumbledore.

The headmaster met Draco's eyes with an inscrutable look and watched for any sign of faltering in the boy, but he saw none.

"Very well," he said. "He may do as he wishes."

Snape touched the Dark Lord's wand to Draco's Mark, causing it to writhe on his skin. Draco gritted his teeth against the pain, which was so strong that it nearly drove him to his knees. He clenched his hand and his arm shook. But having endured the Cruciatus Curse at the hands of the Dark Lord at his initiation as a Death Eater, this paled in comparison.

One by one, the dark-hooded figures of the remaining Death Eaters, those who were not already rotting in Azkaban, appeared in the cave, ready to do their master's bidding. But as each one materialized, Dumbledore was ready with a powerful Binding Spell and Anti-Apparition Jinx, plucking the wands from their petrified hands and snapping each one over his knee, rendering them helpless.

Only Bellatrix Lestrange was quick enough to deflect the spells that were thrust at her, but Severus anticipated her and matched her dark spells with the speed and accuracy of a trained Death Eater. Working together against her, he and Dumbledore escaped with only minor burns from her counter-hexes. Upon recognizing her captors, Bellatrix swore revenge on Draco, her only nephew, but even she was unable to maintain her ferocious facade once she realized that the master she had served faithfully for so long had been destroyed once and for all.

Draco faltered only slightly at the sight of the Death Eaters being gagged and bound, some of whom had mingled with his parents in his home and had struck awe and fear in him ever since he could remember. But now as they were led away to Azkaban, he saw the lines of hatred and greed etched into their faces and knew he had done the right thing.

* * *

Ron and Hermione pushed open the doors of the hospital wing, having just spent the better part of an hour listening to Harry and Ginny's gruesome tale of what had happened in the cave and speculation about "the plan" that Dumbledore had referred to. When they had come to the part about the dragon's blood, Ginny had thrown her arms around her brother and thanked him for his brilliance, which made Hermione smile proudly in his direction and caused Ron to turn deep shades of red until Madam Pomfrey had finally shooed them away for the night.

"Ron," Hermione said as they emerged into the corridor, the doors swinging shut behind them.

"What?" he asked, still grinning. The battle was over, and even though his best friend and his sister had nearly died in the process, he felt elated at the weight that had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

Hermione stopped and looked at him warmly. "I'm so proud of you."

His grin faded and he became embarrassed once more. "Well, really it was Harry and Ginny. They did all the work," he stammered.

"No," she said, taking a step closer. "You're not going to sell yourself short on this one. You were committed to finding an answer for Ginny even when I had given up, even when I said it wouldn't work. You took an enormous risk and it paid off and I'm just... so... proud of you."

And then he saw it, the way her face lit up. It was the same way it always lit up when she had puzzled out some problem or when he finally understood something she'd been trying to teach him for hours. And he wondered sadly if her face would have lit up like that even if he hadn't been the one to find the solution, to take the chance.

"Thanks, Hermione." He smiled and let her thread her arm through his as they walked back to the common room, enjoying the feeling of being close to her again, if only for a little while.

* * *

Once news of Voldemort's defeat and the subsequent capture of the Death Eaters reached the wizarding world, celebrations broke out all across the country. The students of Hogwarts were no exception, and as soon as Harry and Ginny were released from the hospital, Gryffindor tower erupted into an all-night party that rivaled any thrown during Fred and George's day.

In the wee hours of the morning as things were winding down, Harry took Ginny's hand and beckoned to Ron and Hermione. They followed him sleepily out of the common room, past a very grumpy Fat Lady, and around the corner to the Gryffindor Storage Room.

"Hey, what's this place?" Ron asked, waking up a bit at the new surroundings. "You never told me about this!"

"Ginny found it," Harry said, sliding his arms around Ginny's waist and pulling her closer. "It's a great place to come and..."

"Never mind," Ron interrupted, looking horrified.

"...talk," Harry finished, winking at Ginny as she stifled a laugh.

Ron rolled his eyes and flopped down onto one of the couches, causing a small cloud of dust to leap up around him. "What did you drag us in here for anyway? I'm knackered," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"Dumbledore came to see me and Ginny while we were in the hospital wing after you left," Harry said, sitting on a rickety chair and pulling Ginny down on his lap while Hermione perched on the arm of Ron's couch. "Thought you'd like to know what he told us about Draco Malfoy."

Ron cocked an eyebrow and sat up slightly. "Yeah? What about him?"

"He's a Death Eater," Harry said matter-of-factly. "Or was, anyway."

Ron's eyes went wide. "Bloody hell. Well, of course he is. We all knew he would be eventually, didn't we. Didn't reckon Voldemort would take him while he was still in school though," he said with a touch of surprise in his voice. "And you said he wasn't up to anything," he said, turning to Hermione and casting a triumphant look at her.

"No, wait Ron," Hermione said, holding up her hand to silence him. She had a funny feeling in her stomach. "If Malfoy was a Death Eater, why was he helping Dumbledore and Snape in the cave?"

"Well," Harry said, taking a deep breath. "As much as I hate to admit it, it looks like he was on our side."

"What, a spy? You mean like Snape?" Ron asked, incredulous. "No way. Malfoy could never have pulled that off."

Harry shrugged. "Apparently he did."

"And that's not all," Ginny added. "Dumbledore said it was Malfoy who called all the Death Eaters to the cave so they could be captured. They used his Dark Mark to summon them."

Ron snorted in disbelief again and the three of them continued to speculate on how someone like Malfoy could have played the part of a double agent so effectively. But Hermione, rather than joining in, stayed silent, her mind racing back and forth to put together the pieces of the puzzle, and it began to dawn on her that she had heard at least part of this story before, that it lay buried somewhere in the recesses of her mind.

"Harry," she said suddenly. "Did you actually see the Dark Mark on him? Was it burned into his arm, just like the others?"

"No, I didn't see it. Dumbledore made us leave the cave before I got the chance," Harry admitted. "But, Hermione, there's no doubt that he has it. Dumbledore told us so."

Hermione bit her lip and frowned as the others went on talking, the pauses between words becoming longer and longer until at last, they made their way back to the tower for a few hours of sleep. But Hermione tossed and turned as the grey dawn began to creep through her dormitory window. She was anxious for the day to begin, and the first thing she was going to do was find Draco Malfoy.

* * *

The seventh year Slytherins made their way slowly through the dungeon corridors toward the Great Hall for breakfast. Their house's reaction to the news of Voldemort's defeat had been mixed. There had been no celebration in the Slytherin common room, but rather groups of students clumped together, talking in excited whispers. Many of the Slytherins would not have admitted it out loud, but were secretly glad that they would not have to follow in their parents' footsteps or pretend that a world under Voldemort was better than a world without him. Outwardly, they held their heads high and proud, and their hearts still burned with the ambition to be the best that the wizarding world had to offer.

Draco quickened his step, leaving Crabbe and Goyle to fall behind him as he and Pansy made their way up the stairs. Even though he had not admitted to them his part in putting the Death Eaters away in Azkaban, he had kept a safe distance from his old friends. He supposed he might as well get used to it. When they eventually found out what he had done, and he knew they would, it would be a long time before they would forgive him. To some of the Slytherins, the Death Eaters had not only been followers of the Dark Lord; they had been their fathers and uncles and trusted friends. Not that he needed their forgiveness. Crabbe and Goyle had always been loyal henchmen, but never true allies. Pansy was more of an ally to him now than they were and she had proven useful in her own way, though he wasn't sure that her ambitions had ever reached much farther than the wealth or position that the Malfoy name could provide for her.

Draco frowned inwardly. He felt hemmed in these days, like he didn't belong anymore. Perhaps he would go away for a while after leaving Hogwarts, travel to other wizarding countries and try to put all of this behind him.

As they emerged into the Entrance Hall, Draco's head jerked up as he saw a flash of red and gold rushing toward him. Hermione Granger had stopped just in front of him with a fiery look in her eye, and he felt Pansy bristle beside him.

"Granger," he said coolly. "Do you mind? We're just on our way to breakfast. I'm sure whatever crisis you have for me can wait."

"I don't think so," Hermione said evenly. "I think we need to talk right now. And I don't think you want to have this conversation in the middle of the Entrance Hall." Draco noted the subtle rise in her eyebrow and realized that this was not about some mundane school business. She knew something. Something that might be very incriminating to him indeed.

Pansy rolled her eyes at their standoff and said, "You might as well go with her Draco. You know she won't give you a moment's peace until you do. But do hurry," she called over her shoulder as she strode toward the Great Hall. "You know how grumpy you get when you miss breakfast."

Draco thought he detected a smirk on Hermione's face before she turned and strode away toward the corridor of empty classrooms on the other side of the marble staircase. He waited a moment, so as not to appear that he was obediently trotting after her, before making his way across the hall and into the classroom where she was waiting.

With a sharp wave of her wand, Hermione locked the door and cast a silencing spell over the room so they would not be heard from the outside. But her anger was quickly matched by Draco's rising annoyance with her.

"Right," he began snappishly. "Obviously you think you know something, or you've heard something, and you're just dying to tell me exactly what you think, so out with it. But I'm warning you, Granger, this had better be good, because the next time you ambush me in front of my entire house, not to mention the rest of the school, I'll hex you until there's nothing left to hex, do you understand?"

"Oh, I heard something alright," Hermione seethed in a barely controlled voice. "I heard all about your Dark Mark and what happened in the cave and that you've been working with Snape and Dumbledore all along. But that's not why I'm angry, Malfoy. No, if that was all you'd done I'd hardly have any reason to be angry. You rounded up the Death Eaters! You put them all in Azkaban! I would be thanking you, wouldn't I?" She let out a kind of hysterical laugh as she advanced on Draco, her wand suddenly pointed at his chest. "But that wasn't enough for you. Oh, no. You couldn't trust me. Couldn't let me in on your secret even after I asked you point blank...."

"Granger, what are you on about? And stop pointing that at me!" Draco caught her wand arm and jerked it sharply away from him.

"You Obliviated me." Hermione yanked her arm away from him and stood, breathing heavily, as the look of comprehension slowly dawned over his face. His shoulders relaxed and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, apparently I didn't do a very good job of it," he said casually.

"You're not even going to deny it?" Hermione snapped.

He shrugged. "Why should I? There's no reason to keep my Dark Mark a secret now." He rolled up his left sleeve, exposing his forearm to her and saw her recoil slightly. The mark had already begun to fade, but it was still visibly etched into his skin. "That's really what this is about, isn't it. You wanted to prove that I was as evil as you always suspected. You had to see it for yourself. Well, here it is. Go on. Have a good look."

Hermione remained where she was but could not take her eyes off the grotesque green mark just above Draco's fisted hand.

"You didn't have to lie," she said, her voice crackling with indignance and fear. "I already suspected you had the Mark. If you had told me you were working with Dumbledore, I would have understood. Maybe I could have even helped you. You didn't have to Obliviate me. You could have done me permanent damage!"

Draco scoffed and shook his head. "You give yourself too much credit. I saw the way you looked at me. You were revolted. You were terrified. If I'd have let you out of that room, you'd have run straight to Potter and Weasley and spilled everything. Besides, it's not like I've never done a memory charm before; it wasn't meant to be permanent. I just needed to shut you up." He watched her as his words sunk in, and her silence confirmed that what he said was true. "You're always so ready to believe the worst about me," he sneered.

Hermione met his eyes with a steady gaze. "You've never given me any reason not to believe the worst about you."

"Well, believe what you want. I didn't join up with Dumbledore for you, and I certainly didn't do it to join the Potter fan club."

"Yes, you said that, didn't you," Hermione said, remembering. "Just before you Obliviated me, we were fighting. You said that it wasn't about Harry, even though you must have known that by joining Dumbledore, you'd have to support Harry is some way." Her fear was slowly ebbing away, and a curiosity to unravel this mystery that was Draco Malfoy made her press on. "So, why did you do it? What could you possibly have to gain by turning your back on everything you've stood for your whole life?"

"Those were things my father stood for, and I was following in his footsteps like a good son should. But he got himself thrown into Azkaban, didn't he. It was Snape who finally made me see what the Dark Lord truly was, a power-hungry psychopath who wouldn't stop until the wizarding world was completely decimated. He was never going to give my father the power or rewards he deserved, or Aunt Bellatrix, or any of them for that matter. Make no mistake, Granger. I still think that letting mudbloods into the wizarding world is a bad idea, regardless of how talented some of them might be." He paused and Hermione pursed her lips at the backhanded compliment he had begrudgingly given her. "But mass genocide isn't the answer. There has to be a better way.

"So, when Dumbledore offered to make me Head Boy in exchange for working with him and Professor Snape to infiltrate the Dark Lord's inner circle, I took it. If I hadn't, the Dark Lord would have come after me anyway. He was already spreading the work that he wanted me to replace my father as a Death Eater. It was either go along with the plan or..."

"Or he would have killed you," Hermione finished.

Draco nodded. "Or someone close to me."

"Your mother..." Hermione gasped. "Was that why the Death Eaters raided your house? What were they looking for?"

Draco leaned against one of the desks and took a deep breath. "I think it was mostly to send a message to me, about how vulnerable my mother was now that my father is gone. They pushed her around a bit and demanded that she give them Tom Riddle's old diary. My father had not dared to give it back to the Dark Lord after failing so miserably. I assume you know what I'm referring to?"

Hermione nodded. "But why the diary? It has no power anymore. Harry destroyed it in the Chamber of Secrets."

"My mother thought the same thing. But the Dark Lord wanted to see it for himself. He discovered that all of Riddle's correspondence with Ginny Weasley was gone, but still, it proved that Ginny was an effective way to get to Potter. It had almost worked for Riddle after all. That's where I came in.

"The Dark Lord contacted me and gave me orders to follow Ginny, seeing how I had easy access to her here at Hogwarts. He didn't want Snape to know about his plans; I think he was starting to suspect that Snape wasn't completely trustworthy and was using this as a way to test my loyalty. So, while you and Potter and Weasley were busy with whatever it is you three do," he said with barely concealed disdain, "I began watching Ginny. I even followed her on some of her nightly trips to the boat dock and it became clear to me not long after that she was being possessed. I reported what I'd found back to the Dark Lord and eventually, he was able to connect with her himself. But I suppose you know the rest of that story."

Hermione's anger flared up again. "You knew that she was being possessed and you just went on letting her be preyed on by Voldemort? You didn't even tell Snape or Dumbledore? She could have been killed!"

"I've just told you," Draco said impatiently. "The Dark Lord was testing me. I had to maintain his trust if we had any hope of learning his true plans. I didn't see you rushing to tell anyone when you finally figured out what was wrong with her."

Hermione frowned. "She didn't want anyone to know. We tried to help her the best that we could. It was just lucky that Harry found her in the cave when he did."

Draco snorted. "Sometimes I wonder if 'bravery' isn't just another word for 'stupidity' with you Gryffindors." Hermione bristled, but he went on. "Just before Christmas, the Dark Lord told Snape he wanted me go through the Death Eater initiation and receive the Mark. I had little choice but to pretend that I was honored by the invitation, and Dumbledore agreed."

"Was it... very painful?" she asked.

"Of course it was," he said.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, beginning to understand the magnitude of the risks he had taken upon himself to do what he thought was right. "Why are you telling me all this?"

Draco stared at her impassively for a moment. "I've learned that it's advantageous to keep my friends close, and my enemies closer."

"Which am I?" she asked shrewdly.

His lips tightened into a small smile. "Neither." He contemplated her for a moment longer before straightening up and making his way to the door.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked again, and he turned. "You haven't... done any other memory charms on me... have you?"

He smirked and released the locking spell on the door, opening it to reveal a stream of students making their way to morning classes.

"Brilliant," he grumbled. "Now I've missed breakfast."

* * *

Ron pushed the hair out of his eyes as he tried to concentrate on his Transfiguration textbook. With the threat of Tom Riddle and Voldemort behind them, the trio had been reminded that N.E.W.T. exams were rapidly approaching, and they urgently spent every available moment revising for the end of term.

In his quieter moments, Ron had been able to reflect that it was comforting to have mundane problems, like how badly he was going to fail his Transfiguration N.E.W.T., rather than the monumental life and death sort he had become accustomed to. Though he privately thought Harry was having a harder time accepting that he was allowed to be a normal bloke now. He had been the hero-in-waiting for so long, it seemed he hardly knew how to live without the looming dark cloud that had followed him for so many years.

Ginny was good for Harry, Ron thought. She had finally got what she wanted and now she was bound and determined to make sure Harry had all the happiness he had missed in his life. As Ron watched them both sitting on the couch opposite him, Ginny playing absently with Harry's hair as he lay reading with his head on her lap, he wished that he could find a girl who would do that for him, too. Someone who would just enjoy being with him the way Ginny was with Harry. But his sister's love life was less important to him at the moment than the annoying red fringe that kept falling in his eyes. He had read the same paragraph three times now and was becoming more agitated by the second. Finally, he snapped the book shut in disgust, causing Harry and Ginny to look up.

"This is useless," he growled, running his fingers through his hair again.

"Well, maybe I can help you," Harry offered. "I think I understand what McGonagall was saying now about transfiguring humans. If you just..."

"I need a haircut," Ron interrupted. "Ginny, can you cut it?"

They both raised their eyebrows at his abruptness, and Ginny scoffed. "Are you mad? I'm not cutting that," she said, pointing at his red mane.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, do you know anyone who can?"

"No," she said tersely, turning back to her book and ignoring him.

"Ginny..." he whined.

Ginny exhaled loudly. "I'll go see if anyone's upstairs," she groaned. She trotted out of the room while Harry returned to his book - studiously avoiding eye contact with Ron and any ensuing discussion that might arise about hair - and came back down half a minute later.

"Maura can do it. She'll meet you in your room in five minutes."

"Great," Ron said, gathering his books hastily and disappearing up the stairs.

"You're welcome," she called, and Harry sniggered. "Honestly," she said under her breath. "I never knew haircuts were such a life and death situation."

Harry tried not to smile. "Ron Weasley and the Haircut of Doom," he said to himself.

Ginny snorted. "Ron Weasley and the Great Ginger-Haired Monster," she muttered.

"The Tragic Saga of Ron Weasley's Hair," Harry volleyed back, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

They went back and forth until the laughter overtook them and tears threatened to stream out of their eyes until Maura appeared at the bottom of the girls' stairs, wand and towel in hand. She raised her eyebrows at them, and they held their breath until she passed up the boys' stairs, then collapsed onto each other in a fit of giggles.

Maura knocked softly on the seventh year boys' door and was startled when Ron opened it forcefully.

"Oh, hi," he said, somewhat apologetically. "Thanks for coming up."

"Sure," she said, entering the room and looking around surreptitiously. She had only been up the boys' side of the tower once before, but never to Harry Potter's room. A thrill of excitement went through her as she looked around at the five unkempt beds and clothing scattered here and there.

Ron pulled his desk chair into the middle of the room. "This alright?" he asked. Maura nodded and he sat down, shaking the hair out of his eyes and running his hand through it self-consciously.

"So, you need a haircut?" Maura asked, trying to make conversation. "Ginny made it sound urgent."

Ron glanced at her. "No, it's just that I was trying to revise for Transfiguration and it keeps getting in my eyes."

"Did you just want a trim, then?" she asked as she moved around behind him, lifting the hair off his collar and draping a towel around his shoulders.

"No, I need something different. I want to... change it. I need a change."

"Oh," she said, running her fingers through his hair.

Ron swallowed, becoming very aware of how good her fingers felt, and how closely she was standing to him. "You have done this before, haven't you?" he asked.

Maura smiled. "Yes, I have two younger brothers; I do theirs all the time. I've done Ginny's, too."

"Oh. Well, good."

"So, really short then?"

Ron shrugged.

"I liked the way you had it last year," she offered. "That was pretty short. How about that?"

"Yeah," Ron nodded, "that sounds good."

Maura took her wand and went to work, and soon the floor was covered with tufts of red hair. As she moved around to the front to tackle his fringe, he felt his cheeks flush and tried to look anywhere but at her shapely chest, which was now directly in his line of sight and inching closer to his face as she leaned over him. He finally shut his eyes tight and kept them closed until she said, "There," with a note of finality, and when his eyes eased open again, he found himself looking into her smiling face, with its lightly freckled nose and warm brown eyes.

"That's better, isn't it?" she said, removing the towel from his shoulders and shaking it.

Ron reached up and felt the back of his head, his hair clipped short against his neck. He stood up to look into the mirror above his chest of drawers and smiled at his reflection. He felt like a new man. "That looks good, yeah."

"That'll be ten sickles then," Maura said as she cleaned the hair off the floor with a wave of her wand.

"What?" Ron asked. "Oh, right." He hadn't thought to ask what she charged for a haircut and hoped he had enough to pay her. Rummaging through his trunk for his money pouch, he counted his silver and came up short. "Er... Sorry, I've only got eight."

"Oh, that's alright," she said, holding out her hand. "You can owe me the rest." He dropped the money into her palm and felt a jolt as his fingers brushed against her skin.

"Well," he said, flustered. "Thanks. I know it was short notice and everything."

She smiled again, and he wondered why he had never noticed how pretty she was before. "No problem. So, I'll see you around, I guess," she said, and Ron noticed that she seemed to be a little flustered herself.

He nodded and she opened the door, promptly bumping into Harry as he came into the room.

"Oh!" Maura exclaimed. "Sorry, Harry. I was just leaving. Bye, Ron," she said hastily and hurried out of the room.

"See you," Ron called.

Harry chuckled at the sheepish expression on Ron's face. "Alright there, Ron?" he asked, tossing his books onto his bed.

"Yeah." Ron cleared his throat. "She's good. At cutting hair, I mean." He turned to the mirror once more and fussed about with his short fringe.

"Cute, too," Harry said, smirking.

"Is she? I hadn't noticed."

"No," Harry smiled. "Of course you didn't."