Odile sighed as she looked in the mirror, that dazzling white still glistening, almost as if it was mocking her. It had nearly been a month since the colour appeared on her head, and she'd tried everything under the sun to get it out. She'd furiously rubbed at her hair with shampoo, tried all the spells in the library, even tried chopping some of it off; desperately attempting to remove the colour, with zero luck. She brushed it, grimacing when she caught sight of her hand. She'd finally finished her "detentions" with Umbridge, the handwriting still etched into her hand. It was fading slightly, now a puckered pink over the dark red split skin. She had begun wearing fingerless gloves, earning her some strange looks. She wasn't going to give Umbridge the satisfaction of seeing her hand though, the satisfaction her handiwork advertised.

She looked closer at her reflection, taking in the bruised bags under eyes, standing out on her pale skin. She'd given up on her eight hours, lucky if she got in four. Her mind ran a million times a minute whenever she laid her head down, twisting and turning. She missed her life of anonymity, tired of side-eyes and whispers. She wished she had a Time-Turner, back to the day she met the Weasley's and shove them out of her carriage before they opened their mouths. She'd known about them for years, the two red-heads hard to miss in the crowd. She had even sketched them before, their facial features easy to slope in her notebook.

She remembered doing just that at the Yule Ball, sitting in the corner in that plunging black gown that her roommate Sarah had lent her. Sarah was determined that she'd get Odile a date by the end of night, but that ended up as a bust. Odile refused to dance, ignoring anyone who came up to offer. Instead she people-watched, enjoying the awkwardness of the Champions trying to dance. She sketched a few people that night; Cedric's sweet smile, Cho's flush, the scattered couples standing just a bit too close for public decency. She was just finishing up the shading on one of the particularly beautiful ball gowns when she heard the bright laugh from next to her. She turned to see the most striking image, the familiar Weasley twin with his head back, cackling as his brother failed to pull another girl. She hummed softly, turning to a new leaf to begin the new sketch. Nice smile, she had thought to herself, beginning the outline. She studied both, deciding on the twin she believed was Fred, trying to get the image as close as possible. She squinted, noticing the slight differences between the two, those only an artist's eye could differentiate. She wished they had just stayed in her book, life would have been easier like that.

She shook herself out of her thoughts, knowing better than to live in the past. She carefully pressed concealer under her eyes. The new colour on her head washed her out even more than usual, making her look more like the ghosts that floated down the halls. There was no use trying anything different, she had exhausted all her options. She had to go to Weasley himself, beg him to reverse the spell. But how? No Gryffindor would let her near their precious twins, afraid she would try and continue what she started. As if she didn't feel bad enough about the situation already. Her uncles had taught her self-defense she could use with muggles, with the promise that she'd never use it without being attacked first. So much for that. She left the bathroom, dressing slowly as she tried to come up with another plan to get in touch. She was blanking until a thought passed her mind, one that might be genius. She'd seen him receive love letters through owl before, nudging his brother as he shared it around the table. Hopefully if she could disguise the outside, he would read the note before having a chance to share it.

It was far too late to be wandering the halls, but she had no choice. She couldn't take one more day of this hair, seeing a stranger everytime she looked in the mirror. It was beginning to give her a bloody complex. She scanned her room, all her dormmates shut behind their curtains. She carefully put on her slippers, creeping out her room as quietly as possible.

She glanced around the common room, glad to see it empty. She snuck out of the house, double checking every corner before she stepped out of it. She moved slowly, narrowly avoiding a confrontation with Filch. She finally managed to get the owlery, locating her own personal owl. While most Hogwarts were only given the option of one pet, Ilvermony had no such rule. It had taken a little convincing, but it's amazing what having a dead parent could do to bypass rules. He was a beautiful Andaman Masked Owl, an attempt by her Uncle John to cheer her up after her mother's passing. It wasn't much comfort given the situation, but at least she'd gotten Bourbon out of it. She was sure her mother was looking down at her with her hands on her hips for choosing that name. She'd been heavily influenced by her uncles that had taken care of her after her mother's passing. She missed them so much, sometimes it felt like she couldn't breathe. She was lost in the past again and she had a job to do, she reminded herself. Odile pulled out the piece of parchment and envelope she'd brought with the ballpoint pen she'd smuggled in. No one in the 20th century needed to be bothering with quills, in her humble opinion.

She quickly wrote her note and stuck it inside the envelope. She racked her head on how to decorate the envelope, having never written anything like this before. She thought about what her dorm mates had done for their boyfriends; spritzing a bit of perfume, drawing a heart, that sort of stuff. She nodded in approval at the end result, then fed Bourbon a bit of chicken that she smuggled up from dinner. He chirped in appreciation and she told him to deliver the message in the morning. She then crept back downstairs, praying to Merlin she wouldn't get caught. She really did not want another detention. Her hand couldn't take any more of that horrible woman's torture quill. She was only a few more yards from the house, no cat to be found, and released a huff of relief.

"OOH, what have we here? A student out of bed?" Odile froze and turned slowly to see the haunting image of Peeves, smiling down at her. Oh crap.

"Ok, I can explain-" She whispered, glancing around the halls, terrified of a lurking Filch.

"Naughty naughty. Whatever shall I do with you?" He sniggered evilly, looming over her while scratching his chin in thought.

"Peeves please, I'll give you anything you want." She pleaded, anxiety coursing through her veins.

"What could you possibly give me?" He hummed cruelly, floating around her in a circle.

"I'll uh, I'll send some first years for you to pick on." She tried, slowly backing up down the hall, towards the common room. Maybe she could make a run for it, but she was sure he'd just go alert Mrs Norris.

"Nice try, but I'm not sure that'll do." She groaned, seeing that negotiations would not do. She was grasping at straws when a thought hit her. It was a long shot, but at least it was a shot.

"Peeves, do you know what house I'm in?" He paused and watched her carefully. She had him.

"I'm in Slytherin house. And do you know who our house ghost is?" He nodded, suddenly a bit unsure. She put as much bravado in her voice as possible, placing her hands on her hips.

"And how do you think the Bloody Baron would feel about you harassing one of his house members?" He stopped, thought for a moment, before sticking his tongue out at her and whizzing away. Taking her chance, she ran to the dungeons, not stopping until she was safe in her dorm. She let out a sigh of relief, before mentally patting herself on the back. Who said only Ravenclaws were smart?

############

Fred had been peacefully enjoying his meal when an owl decided to land right in front of him. He blinked blearily, staring at the bird in front of him. It dropped an envelope in front of him. He glanced at the decorated envelope that could only have come from a girl. Well, he supposed it could have been from a bloke, but not any that he knew. Although Michael North did always give him a wink when they passed each other in the halls. He shook his head and turned back to the letter. George looked a little worse for wear, given that he was nursing a slight hangover, but shot up with a sly smile on his face. It was always fun when one of the two received love notes, the flattery boosting their egos. Besides, if a girl thought one twin was hot, they had the same face. Double win.

"Who's that from Freddie?" He asked, craning his head across the table to try and read it.

"I don't know Georgie. Give me a second." He opened the envelope, a pleasant smell wafting from the paper. As he read over the letter, his eyebrows seemed to shoot up into his hairline.

"What's up Gred?" Slowly Fred turned behind him to stare at the Slytherin table. George tried to follow his eyes, but he had already turned back around. He wrote a quick reply on the paper before handing the owl a bit of bacon and sending him in his way.

"Fredrick Weasley, are you ignoring me?" Fred sighed and looked over to his brother in exasperation.

"That's not even my name George. Besides, this is just one thing I'd rather keep quiet, ok? I promise to explain it later." George hesitated but nodded his head in reluctant agreement.

"Fine, I trust you." Fred grinned before slipping the note in his back pocket, already making plans in preparation.

"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"

Weasley,

Look, whatever you did to my hair is not coming out, and I'm tired of it. So, I propose a deal. Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at 1:00 AM tonight. I know you have your ways of not getting caught. I promise this isn't a trick. You can even bring your brother for back-up if it'll make you feel better. In return, I'll… owe you a favour. Send your reply as soon as possible.

Yours truly,

Odile Reisinger

(P/S Give Bourbon a bit of meat, or he'll peck you. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I guess.)

"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"

Fred pondered the note as speared a sausage onto his plate. He could tell she was restraining herself from being too rude to him but was having difficulty with it. He could have brought his brother along, but this was something he needed to fix on his own. He'd been mulling over her reaction for weeks now. There was something about what she'd said, about how she'd cried, that didn't sit right with him. Fred Weasley was a lot of things, but he wasn't a bully. His pranks were always meant as jokes, and though many people reacted badly, it was never that bad. He didn't understand why she'd been that upset, but he intended to resolve it. After all, he had a bet to win.

"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"

Glad to hear from you, love, I would be honoured to help you out with this. See you tonight then, can't wait.

All my heart,

Fred Weasley

"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"-"

Odile blushed slightly when he caught her eye, his grin growing at the pink in her cheeks. She quickly broke eye contact, suddenly finding her strawberries very interesting. She hated this, she wasn't some blind giggling schoolgirl. Well, at least when it came to anybody but Fred. The last time anyone got to her this easily she was drunk, a memory that she tried very hard to erase. Fred annoyed her to no end, and everything inside told her she should be furious at him. Still, there was just something about that smile, the way his eyes twinkled when his lips upturned.

Fred smiled as she glanced away, embarrassment showing on her pale features. He tried desperately to rid himself of that grin, pushing his brother around instead. He hated how easily anything she did made him smile. He wasn't blind, she was a knockout. Long willowy figure, with curves in all the right places, and something about the blonde made her eyes shine even brighter. Fred had been attracted to women before, dozens of them. He wasn't shy about his romantic life, going from one girl to another, never settling down. There was just something about her, he couldn't put his finger on it. It was like she was a magnet, drawing him to her every time. He found himself watching her in classes; the way her brows furrowed when her hand smudged ink, the way she bit her lip when she was deep in thought, and the way she smiled while looking through one of her muggle books. He enjoyed watching her sketch, especially when she was down by the lake. He'd been over there after Quidditch practice one day, pausing when he caught sight of her. She was sitting on her robes, glancing up at the Whomping Willow over and over, biting her lip in concentration. It wasn't something he'd normally take any notice of, until her lips upturned in a grin as she finished. It was almost breathtaking, he wasn't used to seeing her so at ease. She ran a hand through her long tresses, the brunette shining like gold in the sun. She usually kept it a ponytail during classes, and he never realised just how long it was. It fell to her lower back, but she obviously took great care of it to make it look so soft. He wanted to run his fingers through it, and- stop. Fred Weasley was not a chaser. He was beater, and he was going to beat George in this bet.

As breakfast was dismissed, Fred handed the note over to his brother. George sent him a nervous look, immediately offering to come to cover his six.

"George, I'll be fine. You don't need to come." George rolled his eyes at that, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, you said that last time. I still haven't managed to get all your nose blood out of my robes." Fred chucked at that, wrapping his arm around George's shoulders.

"Mate, I'm telling you, I'm winning this bet easily. She'll be all over me in a couple of days. I mean, come on. She's probably just guilty for "hurting my feelings" so she wants to disguise it with wanting my help. It's textbook, George! We prank girl, girl reacts, the girl feels bad, the girl makes Freddie very happy. You better get those ten galleons ready."

Odile ducked back into her hiding spot as they passed by her, absolutely livid. She couldn't believe they could do something like that, bet on her feelings? Well, sadly she could. She just supposed… well, it was stupid. She just hoped that he wasn't just trying to get with her. She wished she meant more than that, meant something to someone at this bloody school.

"They think they can just play me like that? Well Mr Weasley, I'm about to play you like a damned fiddle." She muttered, already pulling out her notebook. Odile Reisinger didn't just sketch in that book, she experimented. Especially with spells, and she knew just the one for the job.

A/N- Man, you guys are not ready for what's next. HOO BOI, ARE YOU NOT READY. Ok, relax Ellie. Eh hem, anywho, hope you guys enjoyed! I'm sorry this chapter was a little shorter than the last, but I wanted her revenge to have it's own chapter. Odile's Slytherin alter ego is about to show itself.

THANK YOU TO TheQueen1615 AND Tardis. AND 3Silvia AND NeraBella AND alicia850 AND adrienne24 AND AquaPhantom025 FOR FOLLOWING THIS STORY!

THANK YOU TO TheQueen1615 AND rebelforcauses AND AquaPhantom025 AND NeraBella AND Who Cares711 AND RacoonJess FOR FAVOURITING THIS STORY!

THANK YOU TO Llaidy AND Chelsea always FOR THE AWESOME REVIEWS!

EDITED= 09/17/21