Hermione sat on her bed, curtains firmly pulled shut. She levitated the mirror she had borrowed from Lavender till she could see her head clearly in it, and then reached underneath her pillow and pulled out a copy of Witch Weekly. It wasn't something she'd be seen dead with, normally. But then again, the prospect of Ron leaving her wasn't something she had to face up to in the normal course of things either.

She leafed through the magazine until she found her page: Super Spells for a Sorceress in a Sticky Situation. The title itself was so ridiculous that she found herself wondering for a moment whether or not she wanted to do this.

She held her wand up to the roots of her hair, readying herself for the spell. She held her breath as she spoke the words. Would it work? Please please please let it work.

Nothing.

And then, suddenly, a sharp pain just beneath her scalp that made her cry out against her will. She bit her lip to stop the cries as the pain increased, spreading out over her scalp- hot, sharp, unbearable.

The magazine had promised "Minimal pain depending on the thickness and coarseness of hair," not pain so bad that she bit her lip so hard that it bled. Not pain so bad that it made the tears stream down her face.

Thickness and coarseness. Wouldn't Pansy Parkinson laugh if she could see her now?

And then, release. No more pain. The shock of it made her light-headed. She managed to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror before she collapsed.

Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup. She had sat in back of the stands, out of view.

Time for the after-game party. She climbed through the portrait hole and almost collided with him. He looked tired, bedraggled, soaked. And ecstatic. He pulled her into his arms and hugged him close to her. She snuggled into his chest, savouring the feel of his arms around her.

"We won, Hermione! Did you see it? Did you see that save I made? And the way Harry caught the snitch?" She looked up at him and nodded, smiling. It had been a while since he'd been so happy with her. He looked so earnest and happy that she just had to laugh. And then the laughter turned to tears.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" He looked concerned now

"I'm fine, Ron." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly, just to convince him of it. "Where is the star of the game, anyway?"

"Harry? He was here for about five minutes and then he sneaked off in the direction of the Ravenclaw Common Room." Ron gave her a significant look. Then he bent down to whisper in her ear. "These parties get a bit repetitive after a few years. What do you say we find someplace quiet? It's been a while since we've done anything like that."

She answered with a kiss, slightly longer than the last one.

"Come on then. My room. The others will be having too much fun to bother going up there."

She sat on his bed as he found some dry clothes. He came back to the bed quickly, leaning forward to kiss her, but she pulled away. Slowly, she removed the black hat on her head. Her long hair spilled out- smooth, straight, glossy- like something out of a Witch Weekly, it occurred to Ron. And now that he had a clear view of her face, he realised that she was wearing make-up. She looked beautiful. And wrong. He was the one pulling away now. "What have you done to your hair?"

"I did it for you. Don't you like it?" She looked away from him. She would tell anyone that she wasn't a crying girl, but those damned tears were threatening to spill out again.

"Hermione. Look at me. Is this about Parvati again? How many times do I have to tell you? I don't like her. I like you!"

"Well what am I supposed to think? You…you spend all your time with her nowadays. You don't have any time for me anymore!" She sounded petulant, even to herself, but she couldn't stop the words from spilling out.

"That's rubbish, and you know it. We're friends. There's no need for you to get unreasonably jealous." He was starting to raise his voice now. She stood up, increasing the distance between them.

"Unreasonably jealous? Do you think I'm stupid? I saw you two together at the Christmas party. You spent the whole evening ignoring me and flirting with her."

"I wasn't flir-"

"No. I'm not done yet. I saw her in your room too. I was coming up here to surprise you and she was here with you. What about in transfiguration, when Professor McGonagall wanted us to work in pairs on our projects? You chose her. And when you said you had too much work to do and so you couldn't go to Hogsmeade? I saw you with her in Hogsmeade that day, Ron. You were in a jewellery shop, for god's sake!" She wiped her eyes angrily. Why was she crying? She didn't want to. She didn't want to care that much. She spoke again, quietly, not daring to meet his eyes. "If you wanted to cheat on me, Ron, you could have at least been less obvious about it."

"I…" He was speechless. Guilty, surely. She'd tried to explain their relationship away innocently, but there was no other reason. "Hermione." He'd found his voice again, but he was speaking softly. "Please listen to me. Please. Sit down. Give me a chance to explain."

"Explain what? The reasons why I wasn't good enough for you?"

"No! The truth. I have not been cheating on you. I never would. But…I haven't been completely honest either. I didn't realise that I was hurting you so much. Please let me explain. Then you can hate me as much as you want."

She walked back to his bed slowly, sitting down on it as far away from him as possible. She wasn't crying anymore, but she looked fragile. Almost like she was waiting to be broken. "So. Explain."

"It began at the Christmas party. Harry had…said something to me earlier about…something else, and she was the first person I could think of to ask for help. She knew you, and I guessed you might be sort of friends, at least."

"She agreed to help me, but not before I'd begged her for a few weeks. We came up with a plan- ways of meeting that wouldn't be seen as suspicious. The Transfigurations project was one of them. The trip to Hogsmeade was the last stage. I'm sorry I had to lie to you, Hermione. I just couldn't think of any other way of doing it."

"Doing what, Ronald? So far all you've given me is a half-baked explanation that makes no sense at all. I thought you were going to tell me the truth!"

"Hermione, there's only one way I can really explain."

"Do it, then." He didn't reply, and instead began to search for something in his bedside table, slipping it into his trouser pocket. He turned back to her, pulling his wand out of his belt. He held it up to her scalp and muttered a spell. She turned her head up to him, startled, recognising the incantation. It was the other one from the magazine. "Ron? What…?"

"If you think you're the only one who can find stupid spells in the Witch Weekly, Hermione, you're wrong. I may have been keeping secrets, but why didn't you tell me? Did you really think I wouldn't find it hidden away in your bag?" He looked angry and hurt. She couldn't understand it.

She opened her mouth to reply just as the spell started to take hold. This time the sensation that spread over her scalp was exquisite. It filled her with a warm, contented feeling. She felt comfortable with her body again. Once the spell had done its work, she lifted up a strand of hair to her eyes. Frizzy. Bushy.

"Perfect. No. hold on." He pointed his want at her face and muttered a quick cleaning spell. "Now you're perfect."

"Why did you get angry when you found the magazine?" All thoughts of being cheated on were pushed to the back of her brain by simple curiosity.

He smiled at her, a sad smile. "You have to ask? At first I wondered, why would she want to do this. Maybe it was something I'd said. I felt so bad, did you know that? I would never, ever want to make you feel bad about the way you look. And you made me think that somehow, in my own stupid way, I had. And then Harry told me about that stupid incident with Parkinson. After all these years, Hermione, how can you take anything that bitch says seriously? Do you really think I'm that shallow?"

"I was afraid, Ron. You'd started to hang around with Parvati. And then she said…what she said. I thought I'd lose you if I didn't change myself."

He put down his wand and hugged her. "I don't need you to change. I don't want you to change. I like you because you are the way you are." She didn't say anything, but she returned the hug. "Hermione? I have something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box. "When I was in Hogsmeade with Parvati, in the jewellery shop, I wasn't buying her anything." He opened the box, pulling out a small, beautiful locket on the end of a white gold chain. Gently, he put his hands around her neck and fastened the locket.

"Happy one-year anniversary, Hermione."

She looked up at him then, meeting his eyes. Anniversary. Present. Jewellery shop. Making plans with her friends. It all made sense now.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it." And with that, she pulled his lips to hers again.

They lay down together in his bed, as close to each other as possible. Skin against skin.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron?" she murmured sleepily.

"I do love you, you know. Just the way you are." She turned around to face him. All traces of boyishness were gone from his face. His eyes were a deep, serious blue. He was trembling slightly.

"I love you too."