Her eyes lifted to the signs on the stores on the streets. There was one certain shop that she was searching for. One that would change her appearance for the better...she hoped. It was the summer between her sixth and seventh years. Not surprisingly, she'd been voted HeadGirl. Well, as a rare treat, her guardians had allowed her to get her hair cut and dyed. She'd straightened and de-fuzzed it with magic the year before at school, and now was ready to do something more.

Her name was Hermione Granger, and she was smiling for once. Since the casualties of the brutal war between light and dark had begun, her parents were some of the many casualties...and her guardians were less than pleasant. Of course, her best friends didn't know that. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley were both very sweet boys, but Hermione just couldn't bring herself to tell them of her predicament. Both liked her, and- though she enjoyed their company, certainly- there would never be anything between her and either one of the boys. She rather thought that Harry looked better with Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister.

As for Ron's perfect match? Definitely had to be Lavender Brown. The other two girls and Hermione had become much closer when the rest of the Gryffindor girls from their two classes were killed one by one. Several girls had died while on their way back to their dorms from a certain Slytherin's bed. Hermione, Lavender, and Ginny were the only three who hadn't fallen for it.

Hermione walked into the hair salon and sat down nervously. Her hair had been her pride and joy for as long as she could remember...and here she was cutting it off. Well, she guessed that something had to be done differently sometime or another. And so, she let the stylist lean her back and she closed her eyes through much of the process, not wanting to see her beautiful locks falling away.

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He smirked as he walked down the hallway towards a door that would take him into a witch's beauty salon. He detested the barber that had nearly ruined his hair when he was in fourth year, and had taken to coming here instead. He saw a quite lovely young witch with getting her hair dyed, and he smiled faintly. Sitting down, he picked up a magazine.

"Dray! I was wondering when you'd get back to see me." Eloise, the stylist, said.

"Couldn't leave my favorite stylist out in the cold with no company now, could I?" His name was Draco Malfoy. And he was smiling for once.

He'd never told anyone, but the scars crossing his back weren't just from traipsing around in the woods behind his manor when he was younger...his mother had taken an instant dislike to her young child. She'd always been the mastermind behind Lucius' membership among Voldemort's inner circle. Under the imperius curse, not even the famous Lucius Malfoy was much of a fight. He had his moments, however, and he and Draco had grown closer slowly over the year.

The year before, however, Lucius had been killed. Narcissa made Draco's life a living hell and she made sure that he knew that it was his fault that Lucius had died at the Dark Lord's hands. His fault because he hadn't accepted the dark mark...in the end, he'd been forced to. He wouldn't go under the imperius curse like his father had...he wanted to be aware...he wanted to know the moment to enact his revenge. He wanted to make that bitch pay.

Appearances were deceiving. Draco smiled as he contemplated just how true that really was. By all outward appearances, he was a DeathEater...but inside he was dying. But hey, what can you do when you're under the watching eye of Voldemort himself? Nothing, that's what. Absolutely, positively, Bloody fucking nothing.

He noticed the witch getting her hair done at that moment. Where had he seen her before? Oh yeah, Granger. What was her first name, again? Hermy- something-or-another? Hermione? Yeah, that was it.

"Hermione." He stated politely, causing the witch to do a double take.

"Gods, Draco Malfoy?!" Hermione yelped.

As far as she knew, he'd disappeared at the end of Fifth year. She'd heard all sorts of rumors...but she, Harry, and Ron knew the truth about him. They'd seen his father killed...saving them, believe it or not. Well, that was the basic gist of the situation. To make a long story short...Draco Malfoy had refused to kill them and earn his dark mark, and his father refused to punish him, so poof...one Avada Kedavraed Lucius Malfoy.

Nobody, save for Voldemort and a few others, had seen him since. Draco smiled to himself. It was no wonder the girl was amazed...he'd been as good as dead the last time she or anyone else had ever seen of him. Well...that was a different story. He'd wait until she was finished and then he'd invite her to lunch or something. Surely she'd accept...and what could he lose if she didn't? Oh well, he'd live...surely he would. After all, a lovely lady declining a lunch invitation wasn't nearly as upsetting as watching your father die, hearing your mother openly declare herself Voldemort's lover, oh and the ever-popular "You're a slave." Gig.

So he could handle it if she turned him down...he could! So why was his stomach doing flips?

"Er...Eloise, can I reschedule this for...you know...another time?" He asked the woman, shuffling uncomfortably.

"Of course, Dray. You know you can." Eloise winked at him and began washing the dye out of Hermione's hair.

"Hermione...do you...uh...want to come with me to lunch down the street? There's a diner called Wilbur's Waffles there." Draco blurted before he lost his nerve.

Hermione very nearly fainted. Draco Malfoy was asking her to lunch?! This was new. She supposed she could handle one lunch out...after all it wasn't like she got out too often anymore. She smiled and thought about it. The worst that could happen was pissing Adair and Melanie off...right? Right. So she'd do it.

"I'd like that." She smiled. "That is, if you don't mind waiting for lil' ol' me."

"Not at all." Draco smiled and sat back down. He crossed his legs and picked up a magazine to look through while he waited.