Bleach and Betrayal

The morning started off with a crime.

Not a Ministry-level crime. Not something that would get me a life sentence in Azkaban. But a crime nonetheless.

Because I, Selene Blackthorn, in a moment of absolute unfiltered madness, BLEACHED MY HAIR.

And Kenny found out.

I swear to Merlin's beard, I hadn't even processed the gravity of my actions before she stormed into the bathroom like an executioner on trial day.

There I was, standing in front of the mirror, staring at the walking disaster that was now my reflection, when the door slammed open so violently that I nearly knocked the bleach bottle over in terror.

And there stood Kenny. Arms crossed. Eyes narrowed. That dangerous, motherly disapproval radiating off her like a hex waiting to strike.

For a long, terrible moment, there was silence.

Then—

"Selene. WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. HELL."

I froze. Blinked. Considered lying. Decided against it, because I valued my life.

"Um. Surprise?" I tried, flashing her my best innocent smile.

Kenny stared at me like she was about to send me into next week with one well-placed hex.

"YOU BLEACHED YOUR HAIR," she shrieked, marching toward me. "YOU ACTUALLY DID IT. I THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING."

"It was necessary!" I defended myself. "For reasons."

Kenny looked around as if trying to find something —anything— to physically throw at me.

"FOR. REASONS?" she screeched. "OH, GOOD. THAT MAKES PERFECT SENSE. YOU BLEACHED YOUR ENTIRE HEAD FOR REASONS."

"Yes!" I nodded, trying to look confident about my catastrophic life choices. "It was the only way."

"The only way to what? Look like a bloody platinum scarecrow?" Kenny gestured aggressively at my unholy mess of a hairdo.

I gasped. "Wow. That was unnecessary."

Kenny pinched the bridge of her nose like she was trying to physically suppress the urge to strangle me.

"Selene," she exhaled through gritted teeth, "I want you to tell me exactly what went through your rotting, cursed, hexed little brain that led you to this horrific decision."

I pursed my lips. "I just thought—"

"Uh-huh."

"—that if I looked a little more like Fleur Delacour—"

"MERLIN'S ROTTING UNDERWEAR." Kenny actually doubled over in emotional pain.

"—maybe Draco would—"

Kenny violently raised a hand to stop me. "DON'T. YOU. DARE. FINISH THAT SENTENCE."

"But it's valid!" I insisted. "She's blonde! She's pretty! Draco is OBVIOUSLY into her! And I'm just—me."

Kenny grabbed my shoulders with a little too much force.

"Selene," she hissed, her voice dangerously low. "You are a gorgeous, terrifying, unhinged menace who does NOT need to bleach her hair because her stupid crush is being a moron."

I pouted. "So you're saying it doesn't look good?"

Kenny gave me the most exasperated look in the history of our friendship.

"Selene. You look like a soggy breadstick."

I gasped. "KENNY."

"YOU LOOK LIKE A MALFUNCTIONING GHOST."

"OH, THE BETRAYAL."

She groaned so hard, I thought she might actually disown me on the spot.

"I can't believe you," she muttered. "I can't believe I associate with you. I can't believe I have to be seen in public with you."

"You're being overly dramatic," I huffed, crossing my arms.

Kenny let out a dry laugh. "I'M being dramatic? ME? Oh no, sweetheart, that award goes to YOU and your life-altering crisis over a boy who still can't button his robes properly."

I scowled. "You are being unbelievably mean to me right now."

"I AM BEING UNBELIEVABLY HONEST."

We glared at each other in the mirror for a full thirty seconds.

Then, finally, Kenny sighed deeply.

"Alright. Sit down."

I blinked. "What?"

"You are not walking around looking like a hexed corn husk. Sit. Down."

With zero room for negotiation, she grabbed the nearest towel, some hair products, and a determined expression that was frankly terrifying.

I swallowed. "Are you going to kill me?"

"No." She forced me into a chair. "But if you ever bleach your hair out of jealousy again, I will personally shave it all off."

I gulped. "Understood."

And so, there I sat, completely at the mercy of Kenny, while she fixed my hair and my terrible life choices like the absolute queen that she was.

Merlin bless her patience.

The Redemption Arc of My Hair.

Kenny was done with me. Like, morally, emotionally, spiritually done.

But, being the absolute blessing to the Wizarding World that she was, she had decided that instead of exiling me to a lifetime of social disgrace, she was going to fix my hair.

"Alright," she said, rolling up her sleeves like she was about to perform some complex life-saving surgery. "Since you clearly lack the ability to make rational choices, I have taken it upon myself to make one for you."

I blinked. "Uh, what?"

She held up a small, elegant potion bottle filled with a rich, deep crimson liquid.

"This," she declared, shaking the bottle slightly, "is a magical dye. A beautiful, deep shade of wine red. And, unlike your deranged bleach incident, it will actually suit you."

I hesitated. "But I was trying to—"

"No." Kenny cut me off. "I will not let you continue this suicidal attempt to become Draco Malfoy's French blonde fantasy. You are not a Delacour. You are a Blackthorn. And you are going to own it."

I narrowed my eyes. "And what if I refuse?"

Kenny smirked. Oh, Merlin. That was never a good sign.

"Then I will personally charm your hair to be vomit green for the rest of the semester."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

I gulped. Yeah, okay, fair.

So, with absolutely no choice left, I sat down like a punished child, and Kenny began her sacred ritual of fixing my hair.

The moment the potion touched my strands, a warm, velvety hue spread through my hair, washing away the bleach disaster like it had never existed. My once tragic, fried, overprocessed mess was suddenly rich, glossy, and— dare I say—stunning.

When she was finally done, she handed me a mirror.

I gasped.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

I ran my fingers through my now deep wine-red locks, watching the subtle hints of mahogany and ruby catch the light. The shade was perfect—dark, mysterious, elegant—a colour that screamed power, not desperation.

I turned to Kenny, wide-eyed.

"Okay, I take back everything bad I have ever said about you," I breathed.

Kenny leaned back, crossing her arms with a victorious smirk. "Damn right, you do."

I turned back to the mirror, still in shock at how good I looked.

"Kenny," I whispered. "You are an actual goddess."

"I know."

I kept admiring myself, twirling a strand between my fingers.

"This looks so much better than that ugly bleach—"

"OBVIOUSLY." Kenny threw her hands in the air. "THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU."

I grinned at her, feeling like myself again. Like Selene Blackthorn. Not some wannabe Veela.

Draco Malfoy could have his blonde-haired Beauxbatons crush.

I was going to walk into that Great Hall like I owned the bloody school.

**DRACO'S POV**

I liked to think of myself as a rational person.

Yes, I was dramatic. Yes, I had a flair for the theatrical, and yes, my self-esteem was approximately higher than the Astronomy Tower, but still—I was rational.

So when Selene Blackthorn walked into the Great Hall that morning, flipping her freshly dyed deep-red hair like some kind of celestial goddess, I did what any rational person would do.

I choked on my pumpkin juice.

"Merlin's bloody beard," I muttered under my breath, eyes widening.

The colour was perfect. A deep, rich, intoxicating shade of wine-red that framed her face like she belonged on the cover of Witch Weekly. It was elegant, powerful, the kind of look that made heads turn without her even trying.

Not that she noticed. No, Selene strolled in, all nonchalant and effortlessly cool, her crimson locks glowing under the enchanted ceiling like she personally commanded the stars to light her up.

And I—**Draco Malfoy, the composed, dignified, silver-haired heir of a noble pureblood lineage—**was shook.

Pansy made some offhand comment about how "red isn't really a Slytherin colour", but I barely heard her. My eyes were glued to Selene, who had no idea just how much she was making me spiral.

And then, as if the universe itself was determined to make my suffering worse—Kenny happened.

"Everyone," Kenny announced, loud enough for the entire Slytherin table to hear, "allow me to expose Selene Blackthorn for the absolute unhinged mess that she is."

Selene froze mid-step. "Kenny, don't you—"

"Oh, I will." Kenny grinned wickedly, settling into her seat across from me. "So, Draco. You wanna know what your favourite little stalker here did?"

I arched a brow, already enjoying this. "Do tell."

Selene glared daggers at her friend.

Kenny turned to the whole group with a dramatic sigh. "This absolute trainwreck woke up at an ungodly hour, BLEACHED HER HAIR—"

I gasped. "You WHAT?"

"—because," Kenny continued, ignoring my outburst, "she had a full-scale meltdown over the possibility that you, dear Malfoy, would ditch her for Fleur Delacour."

There was a silence.

A deep, stunned silence.

Then Blaise choked on his toast.

Theodore spat out his pumpkin juice.

Pansy gasped so dramatically I thought she might faint.

And I—

I laughed so hard I nearly fell off the bench.

"YOU DID WHAT?!" I wheezed, clutching my sides as I doubled over. "Oh, this—this is PRICELESS. Please tell me you took pictures, Kenny—"

Selene, redder than her own hair, slammed her hands onto the table. "I DIDN'T THINK HE'D EVER FIND OUT, YOU TRAITOR."

"Oh, please," Kenny rolled her eyes. "You should be thanking me. That bleach disaster would've been your social demise."

Blaise wiped his tears of laughter. "So let me get this straight—Blackthorn here actually thought Malfoy was so obsessed with Fleur that she tried to turn into her?"

Selene groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"Yes," Kenny confirmed smugly.

"That," Blaise declared, "is hilarious."

"It's adorable," Pansy added, her previous disdain replaced with pure amusement.

"Shut up," Selene muttered.

I, on the other hand, was having the time of my life.

I turned to her with a smirk. "So," I drawled, "you thought you were about to lose me to Fleur Delacour, hmm?"

Selene refused to look at me. "Drop it, Malfoy."

"Absolutely not," I grinned. "I mean, I must say, I'm flattered. You actually care enough to have a full-blown existential crisis over me."

Selene picked up a piece of toast and hurled it at my face.

It hit me square on the forehead.

"OW—"

"You deserved that," she said haughtily, crossing her arms.

I chuckled, brushing crumbs off my perfectly styled hair. "And here I thought I was the dramatic one."

She groaned again, looking like she wanted to vanish into the floor. "This is the most embarrassing moment of my entire existence."

Kenny patted her head sympathetically. "There, there."

"Shut up, Ken."

I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hand, still watching her with amusement. "You do realise I'm never letting you live this down, right?"

Selene glared. "I hate you."

"You adore me."

"Do not."

"Do too."

She huffed, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. And Merlin help me, the way the deep red caught the candlelight made me forget how to breathe for a second.

I hesitated. Then, lowering my voice, I said, genuinely,

"You didn't need to change yourself, you know."

Selene blinked, caught off guard by the shift in my tone.

"I mean it," I continued. "You're—you. That's already bloody perfect."

She stared at me for a moment. Then, trying to mask whatever emotion was flickering behind her eyes, she scoffed.

"And what, suddenly you're a motivational speaker now?"

I smirked, leaning back. "Only for you, Blackthorn."

And for once—just for once—Selene Blackthorn had nothing to say.

**SELENE'S POV**

I liked to think of myself as a somewhat sane person.

Yes, I had theatrical tendencies, and yes, I was prone to overthinking entire love stories that didn't exist, but still—I was rational.

At least, I thought I was.

Until Kenny ruined my life.

It started off fine. Well, as fine as a morning-after-a-bleach-disaster could be. My hair was no longer blonde, thank Merlin—after realising my horrible mistake at approximately 3 AM, I had dyed it a deep shade of wine red instead. The colour actually suited me, if I ignored the crippling embarrassment of how this whole disaster began in the first place.

I walked into the Great Hall, head held high, pretending I was absolutely not the same girl who'd spent the previous night spiralling into a full-blown crisis over Draco Malfoy.

Then I saw him.

And he—that smug, insufferable, obnoxiously perfect git—looked at me like I'd just walked into the Great Hall wearing nothing but a House-Elf's tea towel.

I swear, I saw him choke on his pumpkin juice.

I ignored him, obviously, because I had dignity.

I took my seat next to Kenny, who, by the way, was enjoying herself far too much. She hadn't stopped smirking since the moment she saw my hair.

I was about to dig into my breakfast and pretend I wasn't having a full-body reaction to the way Draco was still staring at me, when Kenny opened her mouth.

"Everyone," she announced, louder than necessary, "allow me to expose Selene Blackthorn for the absolute unhinged mess that she is."

I froze.

No.

Oh, the betrayal.

"Kenny," I hissed through gritted teeth. "Don't you—"

"Oh, I will."

And then, like the ultimate menace that she was, Kenny turned to Draco.

"So, Malfoy," she said, oh-so-casually, "do you want to know why Selene dyed her hair?"

I grabbed her wrist in a last-ditch attempt to save myself. "Kenny, I swear—"

But my fate was already sealed.

Kenny grinned like the devil himself.

"This absolute maniac woke up at an ungodly hour, BLEACHED HER HAIR—"

I heard gasps. Someone dropped their fork.

Draco's jaw dropped. "You WHAT?"

"—because," Kenny continued, like a cruel, heartless storyteller spinning my downfall, "she had a full-scale breakdown over the possibility that you, dear Malfoy, would ditch her for Fleur Delacour."

There was silence.

Complete and utter silence.

Then—

Blaise choked on his toast.

Theodore spat out his pumpkin juice.

Pansy gasped so dramatically I thought she might faint.

And Draco—

Draco Malfoy—that absolute menace of a boy—

BURST INTO HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER.

"YOU DID WHAT?!" he wheezed, gripping the table as he doubled over.

Blaise was crying. Pansy was wiping away tears of laughter. Theodore wasn't even trying to hide his amusement.

And me?

I wanted to die.

I buried my face in my hands, groaning so loudly I was sure the ghosts in the castle heard me.

Draco was still laughing like he'd just heard the funniest joke of his life.

"This—" he gasped between wheezes, "this is PRICELESS. Kenny, please tell me you have pictures."

I snapped.

I picked up a piece of toast and hurled it directly at his stupid, smirking face.

It hit him square on the forehead.

"OW—"

"You deserved that," I muttered, arms crossed, ears burning.

Draco, still smirking, dusted crumbs from his hair. "And here I thought I was the dramatic one."

I groaned again, feeling the last remnants of my dignity slip away.

"This is," I declared, "the most embarrassing moment of my entire existence."

Kenny patted my head. "There, there."

"Shut up, Ken."

I was never going to live this down.

And, of course, Draco had to make it worse.

"So," he drawled, leaning forward with that insufferable grin, "you thought you were about to lose me to Fleur Delacour, hmm?"

I glared. "Drop it, Malfoy."

"Absolutely not," he said, still clearly entertained. "I must say, though—I'm flattered. You care so much that you had a full-blown existential crisis over me."

I nearly threw another toast at him.

"You infuriate me," I seethed.

"You adore me."

"I do not."

"You do too."

I huffed, turning away, flipping my hair over my shoulder dramatically—only to realise, far too late, that my new red locks literally caught the candlelight and made me look like a walking firework.

I froze, realising my mistake.

Draco did, too.

He was quiet for a second.

And then, voice softer, he said,

"You didn't need to change yourself, you know."

I blinked, caught off guard.

He was still looking at me, but this time, there was something different in his expression.

"I mean it," he continued, quieter now. "You're—you. And that's already bloody perfect."

I stared at him.

And for the first time in my entire life, I had absolutely no idea what to say.