"It's natural," I told Ingrid despondently as I returned to the common room, falling onto the couch beside her, wedging myself between her and Zoe Blanche. "Hey Zo."

"Oh, you're back!" Ingrid said, looking from her conversation. "What's natural?"

"His hair," I said dispassionately, "it's natural."

"Wait," Ingrid sat up, "You actually asked him?"

I nodded. I didn't feel up to responding in any other way. I had no more energy to feel or do anything; I had used it all up on embarrassment and mortification. I hadn't even confiscated the Ever- Bashing Boomering the second year boys were throwing around in the corridor. That was a sure sign of my decline.

"Are you okay, Rose?" Zoe asked, looking slightly concerned, "You're looking a little peaky."

"Mrghh" I responded attractively, letting my head fall back to rest on the back of the couch.

"So, the study session didn't go well then?" Ingrid asked as she glanced at my figure sprawled inelegantly on the couch.

"Study session?" Zoe asked.

"She's partners with Scorpius Malfoy for a Transfiguration assignment." Ingrid explained.

Zoe's interest was piqued, "Scorpius Malfoy? I didn't know you two were friends."

"We're not really," I croaked, "and we definitely won't be now."

"She's exaggerating," Ingrid told Zoe, "She's always coming to the worst possible conclusions about herself."

Zoe nodded, "James told me about how she almost had a hernia when she was waiting for her O.W.L results last year. Apparently she refused to go downstairs and see her results."

That was true, but I refused to let them gossip about me like old maids as I lay between them half comatose. "I do not always overdramatise things!" I said indignantly, feeling the need to defend myself.

"It's okay, sweetie." Ingrid smiled benevolently at me, "It's not your fault, it's in your DNA. I think you're just programmed to think that way. There's no other explanation."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked insulted, raising my head to look at her.

Ingrid simply looked away, turning to speak to Zoe, "So, what do you think happened? Do you think she accidentally tucked her skirt into her knickers?" My mouth fell open, she was ignoring me now? The audacity!

"Hmm no, nothing that embarrassing." Zoe replied, tapping her chin, "Maybe she just sneezed on him or something?"

"Plausible, plausible," Ingrid responded as she cocked her head as if in deep thought, "Or perhaps she wrote her notes messily." I narrowed my eyes.

"Or forgot how to do a spell?" Zoe suggested.

"No, I've got it!" Ingrid snapped her fingers, "He found out she only got an E on her last Potions essay!"

"Oo, good one, yeah yeah." Zoe nodded in agreement, "That's got to be it. Merlin, I couldn't imagine that. How embarrassing!" She winced for effect.

"I know," Ingrid shook her head in disbelief, "poor thing, I don't know what I would have done if I'd got an E, let alone have someone find out about it!"

By this stage, I'm pretty sure I had gritted my teeth so hard together that I had begun to chip my own teeth.

"Poor Rosie." They both said in pathetically precious voices. In unison. In unison! Do you know how annoying that is?

That was the last straw, "I didn't get an E in my last Potions essay!" No one messed with Rose Weasley's grades. I worked hard for those things!

That was when the laughing began. "I knew it! I knew the grade would be the little nudge we needed to push her over the edge!" Ingrid exclaimed gleefully.

"I hate you both." was my inspired comeback.

"So what really happened then?" Zoe asked, taking pity.

I sighed. So I told them, explained the whole bloody debacle. I told them how it had all started off swimmingly, and then gave them a play by play of the gradual descent from the promising beginning to my current fragile emotional state. Infuriatingly, they didn't even seem to be appalled in the slightest! In fact, Ingrid was positively delighted at the thought of me pressed up against a bookshelf by Scorpius Malfoy! I believe her exact words were, "And in the library of all the places! How risqué!" She then proceeded to give me an approving nod. Well, I'd tell her what she could do with her approving nods.

Admittedly, they both did gasp in a somewhat horrified way when I described how exactly I had asked him about his hair colour. This reaction, however, was tainted by the fact that I saw their lips quivering and eyes crinkling as they struggled to suppress their laughter. Sure it was nice when Ingrid swept me up into a comforting hug, saying "poor dear", but then I felt her shoulders shaking and laughter burst from her lips like fire from a Hungarian Horntail.

For that reason, I felt I was justified in haughtily saying "It's all your fault you know."

"What?" She asked incredulously through her laughter.

"It's your fault." I reiterated, "If you hadn't said anything about his hair this morning, I would have never even noticed it (slight lie, but she didn't have to know), and then I would never have asked him about it!"

"Hey," She said raising her hands, "I'm only human. When someone strolls past me with hair like that, it would be criminal not to notice. It's his fault for growing hair like that in the first place!"

I considered her argument. She had a point. "Hmm, do you think I should sneak into the Slytherin Boys' Dorm tonight and shave it off?"

"No!" She exclaimed, her voice all shades of horrified. "Well, yes to the sneaking into his dormitory, but no to the shaving." She pointed a finger at me as if I was a naughty child, "NO."

"He does have quite nice hair, doesn't he?" Remarked Zoe thoughtfully and I groaned internally, not this again. "It's a little too blonde for my liking though."

For some reason Ingrid was smirking, "Ah yes, you prefer the tall, dark, slightly idiotic, but handsome types, eh Zo?"

Zoe groaned and put her head into her hands, "Ugh, don't remind me."

I looked at Ingrid, "What's up with her?"

"You think you have all the problems, Rosie? Poor Zoe's got it ten times worse." Ingrid replied without a hint of sympathy in her voice. What's wrong this woman? Has she no feelings?

"Why?" What's wrong?" I asked, slightly alarmed.

"You know that bird Albus was telling us about at breakfast today? The one who James made his reserve because he thought James fancied her?" Ingrid asked, "Well, here she is!" She exclaimed, positively gleeful as she grabbed Zoe by the shoulders.

"Zoe?" I asked incredulously, "You're on the Quidditch team?" I had expected James to have picked someone athletic, or ditzy, or at least someone of the Melissa Green variety. Not someone as sweet as Zoe Blanche!

Zoe finally looked up, "Reserve seeker, I'm doomed. Doomed!"

"But how? What?" I spluttered, utterly perplexed, "Why did you try out?"

"Because of someone named James Sirius Potter." Ingrid grinned, "Ah, it's so romantic I could levitate! Wait a moment, Wingardium Leviosa me will you, Rose?"

"You like James?" I asked, ignoring Ingrid's tomfoolery.

Zoe sighed, "Yeah, I think so." She didn't look too happy about that revelation.

"You think so?" Ingrid interjected, "That's not what it sounded like when you were telling me before Rose arrived!"

"Who am I kidding? It's never going to happen, Ingrid." She said miserably. "He's James Potter. Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, probably going to play for Fuddlemore United next year ("Puddlemore" Ingrid, corrected quickly), he's the son of Harry bloody Potter" I grinned, Zoe Blanche swearing? I never thought I'd see the day. "and, and..." She trailed off, flustered.

"Member of the Brotherhood of Great Hair?" Ingrid supplied helpfully.

"And a member of the Brotherhood of Great Hair!" Zoe exclaimed with great conviction, then she seemed to realise what she'd just said, "Wait, what?"

"Sure, he's all of those things" I said gently, "but he's also James Potter, slightly immature goofball, who's fiercely loyal and surprisingly thoughtful."

"I know," moaned Zoe, "and that's the problem."

"There's no problem, Zoe. This is great! You would make such an amazing couple!" Ingrid said encouragingly.

"You really would," I nodded, picturing them in my mind's eye with surprising clarity. James standing there grinning boyishly with his arm around Zoe, who smiled, tucked comfortably into his side, blushing prettily all the while.

"But, putting feelings aside. What on earth am I going to do about Quidditch?"Zoe asked.

That sobered us both up pretty quickly. "Um, okay." I said, getting down to business, "What do you know about Quidditch?"

"Um, I know there are seven players, one Snitch, two Bludgers, and a Waffle." Zoe said as she counted on her fingers.

Ingrid and I looked at each other; the situation was worse than we had anticipated.

"Okay, first of all it's called a Quaffle," said Ingrid, then seeing Zoe's face begin to crumble in despair, she quickly added, "but that doesn't matter, because you're the Seeker so you don't have to know that nonsense anyway."

"You've played before, right?" I asked. "You must be pretty good if James made you Albus' reserve."

"Today was the first time I've flown on a broomstick since Flying Class in First Year." Zoe responded glumly.

"You must be a natural then!" Ingrid said bracingly.

"That's the thing, I'm not! I'm absolute rubbish, really!" Zoe insisted.

"Then how come you made the team?" I asked.

"I don't know! I have no freaking idea!" She exclaimed, throwing up her arms. "Not many people turned up to try out for Seeker, because I guess we all knew Albus was going to get it. There were a few second years that were about the same standard I was, and two fourth years that at least looked like they'd played Quidditch before, so why in Merlin's name did he pick me?"

"Because he likes you, silly." I told her, with a smile. "Isn't that something to be happy about?"

"Plus you're reserve," Added Ingrid, "and everyone knows they never do anything. So essentially we now know that the object of your affection fancies the pants off you, and you don't have to play Quidditch. Yay!"

"I don't know..." Zoe still looked slightly unconvinced, "and James says I still need come to training."

"Aha, and did he also tell you to stay after training for some private practice?" Ingrid wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"No, don't you understand? It means I still have to play Quidditch!" Zoe wailed.

"Well, if you're really worried. We could help you with some basic knowledge." I suggested, taking pity. "My family's a bunch of Quidditch fanatics, so I've picked up some stuff over the years."

"And, I used to play with my brother when he needed to practice." said Ingrid, "Together we might be able to fill the gaps in your knowledge."

"Really? You'd do that for me?" Zoe asked, her blue eyes round, "Thank you!"

Phew, and I thought I had problems in my life. Hah, Transfiguration assignment, and who's sexy hair?


It was during Charms the next day that I realised I needed a plan of action. After all, my Transfiguration mark would be going down the drain if I didn't clear this mess up! Plus, Malfoy would think I was some bumbling fool for the rest of his life. I can see it now, Scorpius Malfoy ten years down the track telling his angelically haired children, "Ah yes, that Rose Weasley. Keep away from her, do you hear me? She's slightly deranged, and has a fetish for our hair. Whatever you do, don't let her touch it!"

Oh Merlin, I couldn't let that happen.

Yes, a plan of action was of the utmost importance!

Rose Weasley's Possible Plans of Action:

1. Avoid him

2. Be nonchalant

3. Act normally

4. Be super friendly

Okay, I think we can all agree that no. 2- be nonchalant can be crossed out. Much too ambitious at this delicate point in time. Be super friendly? No, that would just be too excruciating.

A scrap of paper slipped into view, 'What are you doing?' It read. I looked over to see Ingrid with a baffled expression as she peered over my shoulder.

Deciding what to do about my little mishap with Malfoy, I wrote back.

I heard her snort, Nonchalant? Seriously Rose, you being nonchalant?

Had she said this just last week, I would have been seriously affronted, but after yesterday's failure I could only think, why didn't you warn me of this yesterday, Ingrid? Why?

If you hadn't already noticed, Ingrid, I've already crossed that out. I wrote back with great conviction, creating a few ink splotches.

Well, you can't avoid him. That's just too obvious. Why don't you just act normally?

Act normally... hmm, I guess that couldn't be too difficult, right?

Oh, how wrong I was...


The first time I saw him that day was while I was waiting outside the History of Magic classroom for the class before mine to finish. It was the perfect opportunity! He was walking past by himself, and we even made eye contact. Maybe it was because I suddenly recalled the feeling of his body against mine and the look in his grey eyes, or maybe I was just being a nitwit. But for some reason, I just couldn't bring myself to say hi, smile or even acknowledge him. It was like I went into defensive mode or something, and I immediately flicked my eyes away from his.

Pitiful, I know. To make matters worse, the class before me ran ten minutes late. This meant oodles of waiting time, which meant oodles of thinking time, which meant oodles of thinking about Malfoy time. So I stood there, cursing myself for not having the courage to say anything to him whilst reliving the ghost of his lips on mine. Then cursing myself some more for thinking such preposterous thoughts.

The second time I saw him was in Potions. How had I never realised he sat in the row behind me? When did this happen? I even asked Albus, who was my Potions partner, if Malfoy had always sat behind us, and apparently he'd been sitting behind us all of last year as well.

To think I only noticed when I shrugged off my robe and turned around to drape it on the back of my chair. I should have said something, even a nod would have sufficed at this point. Instead I just stared at him like a goober and then turned back around quickly in my seat. I don't know if I was just being paranoid, but I could have sworn I felt his eyes boring into the back of my head for the rest of the class. Needless to say, I spent the whole lesson sitting tensely in my chair, willing myself not to look at him, and not paying the slightest attention to what was going on in class. I didn't even answer any questions in class! Not one!

I don't deserve to be in Gryffindor. Or be a Prefect for that matter.

The third time I saw him was in Transfiguration. You know that class? The one where I sit next to Malfoy? Funny that. I had seriously considered booting Laura Robertson out of her seat so I could sit next to Ingrid, but in the interest acting normal, I forced myself to take a seat in my usual spot. Malfoy hadn't arrived yet when I sat down, so instead of chatting away with Ingrid as I could have been, I was stuck there thinking up unrealistic scenarios as to why he wasn't here yet. As I sat there resting my check in my hand, someone with dark hair moved to sit next to me. I turned around to notify them that the seat was taken, when I came face to face with Scorpius Malfoy. My mouth fell open as I spluttered incoherently. Before I managed to form a full sentence, he said, "I lied."

"What?" I asked, staring like a stunned mullet at his now black hair. I couldn't help it; it was just so... black. Not that it looked bad or anything, but it was just such a contrast to his flaxen locks. Yes, I did just say flaxen locks.

"Last night," He carried on seriously, "I lied. You asked me if I dyed my hair, and the answer is yes. This is my real hair colour. This is it. The real Scorpius Malfoy."

It took me a little too long to realise that he was in fact, joking. But come on, give a girl a break. I had to not only register the shock of seeing him after the trauma of last night, but also adjust to seeing him with dark hair.

"It was a real pain maintaining that shade of blonde, I mean, the roots were a nightmare, but it was worth it." He continued, "Beauty is pain, you know."

I laughed in disbelief, "But, why?" I gestured at his hair, as speaking was clearly out of my capacity at this point in time.

"Well, you dashed off really quickly yesterday night, and you were avoiding me like the plague today, so I had to do something to make you speak to me again!"

My eyebrows shot up, "Unbelievable" I muttered, shaking my head, "You did that all just so I would stop ignoring you?"

He shrugged, "Something had to be done. How awkward would it have been if we sat next to each other for an hour without speaking or acknowledging each other!"

I nodded mutely. He was chock full of surprises, that Scorpius Malfoy, I'd give him that. Despite the shock, I couldn't help but ask, "You didn't actually dye it, did you? I mean, it's not permanent, is it?

He chuckled, "Nah, just charmed it. That's why I was a little later than usual to class. Why?" He asked, grinning cheekily, "Do you miss the blonde?"

"Wha?" I was caught off guard, "No, it's just that. Um, well, the blonde hair was nice..."

Fortunately, McGonagall then started class, saving me from the embarrassment of having to explain myself. This left me with a lot of time to ponder the events that had just unfolded. Had he seriously just charmed his hair black so I wouldn't feel so embarrassed about what I'd said last night? Seriously?

That was so...so nice. I know I shouldn't have been so puzzled about it all, but it was just so unexpected.

Well, one thing was for sure, Scorpius Malfoy was one top bloke.


That's chapter three all done! Hope you enjoyed! :) By the way just out of curiosity, do you guys know anyone who actually has grey eyes? Cause I don't think I've ever met anyone with grey eyes, yet all these fictional characters seem to have them! Haha, anyway let me know what you think so far! Thanks for reading :)