After enduring six hours of verbal assault by three serious-minded officials in the Headmaster's office, Peony's composure had finally crumbled. Not only had they dismissed her pleas of innocence, but they had steadfastly denied her request for emergency rations of tea cakes and marmalade. Feeling faint from low blood sugar, Peony tried to focus on the accusing finger now jutting in her face, when suddenly her finch snapped and flew into attack mode.

Once the feathers had settled and the finch was caged, the shortest of the three wrapped his sensible, law-abiding (and recently finch-nipped) finger in a stray piece of parchment. "Enough! You're a murderer and we already have your confession," he declared.

At her cry of protest, Amycus Carrow's sneer peered over the edge of the Headmaster's desk. Peony's dream journal landed with a heavy "thunk" in front of her.

"This book has detailed accounts that match the detective's reports," the second official intoned, sounding eerily like Lambie used to. "The two trampled Gryffindor boys, the stabbing of Roderick Spinks and even your father's mysterious accident where he slipped and fell and then drowned in his own tears, it's all right here. We assume that the House Elf was your doing too, even if you didn't write it down, what with your busy class schedule."

"But I never had a dream about Squiggles! As for the rest of it, I didn't mean to!" Peony wailed. "I don't even know how any of this happened!"

"Magic, like everything else around here," drawled the Headmaster with his usual disdain. "Remove this girl from my office while I finish the mountain of paperwork she has just caused me."

"We'll need fifteen signatures to take her off the premises. What shall we do until then?" asked the tallest man, who was undisputedly in charge.

"Put her in the Medical Wing for now, and for the sake of Great Merlin's beard, keep her awake until Madame Pomfrey prepares a fresh batch of Dreamless Sleeping Draught!" The Headmaster had already disappeared behind a towering stack of parchment.

Sometime after the long haul to the Medical Wing, Peony was glued to a bed, her arms and legs immobilized by the application of a partial Body Binding Curse. Madame Pomfrey took her vital signs and measured her height and weight for a proper dose of Dreamless Sleeping Draught. Peony tearfully answered Madame Pomfrey's increasingly embarrassing questions on the state of her health.

"Now dear, do you have any reason to think that you might be pregnant?"

Peony shook her head, sobbing something unintelligible about boys and kissing.

Satisfied with her answers, Madame Pomfrey left for the storeroom. Peony shifted her head and rubbed her cheek on the pillow, trying to wipe the tears away, but stopped when she noticed Draco Malfoy sitting silently on the other bed, staring at his hands. She watched him for a solid minute, wondering how much of her last answer he had heard, when suddenly his cold eyes were looking back at her.

"Can you still do it?"

"What?" Peony was tired of all the questions.

"Kill people. I need someone dead."

"I'm not going to murder anybody on purpose!" Peony said, aghast at the thought. "It only happens when I'm sleeping, and I can't control it. Besides, aren't you worried that I might dream you up and kill you too?"

Draco snorted. "We're Slytherins, Peony. We don't make promises. But if you can't kill someone on purpose, you're of no use to me." Draco sighed with disappointment and got up. "It's been nice knowing you, Peony Parkinson."

Peony eyed the officials at the door. As much as she wanted to believe in truth, justice and the power of a well-placed pout, she'd recently learned that the real world had its own set of rules that she wasn't ready to take on. "What's going to happen to me?"

"Azkaban, probably." Draco met her panicked eyes. "Unless you agree to help me."

"That's blackmail!" Peony gasped.

"It's what I'm good at. I can get you out of here right now if you tell me exactly how you do it."

"People promise me something and then they break it. I have a nightmare and when I wake up, they are dead. I don't mean to do it. I'm cursed!" Peony boo hoed into her pillowcase.

Draco rolled his eyes. "What if I told you that the Dark Lord promised us all a better world, but all he wants is power? He doesn't care about any of us, much less you."

"I… I don't think that's going to work," Peony said with a sniffle. "I think it has to be personal."

"He's coming here to kill Harry Potter. That seems to be personal enough for everyone else around here. Sheesh! What else do you need?"

It was true. Even after her arrest, Peony had everything a Slytherin princess could hope for. She had the answers to next week's Arithmancy exam and bags of her favorite candies. The cart next to her hospital bed overflowed with flowers, notes of gratitude (for things she couldn't remember doing) and a handwritten invitation to the Slug Club from Professor Slughorn. But Peony knew that it wasn't because they cared. The whole school was covering their backsides from her deadly subconscious wrath.

Madame Pomfrey returned, eyeing Draco suspiciously, and put the Dreamless Sleeping Potion on the table next to Peony. "You have one minute, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco sneered after the nurse left them alone again. "Plenty of time to do this then." He picked up Madame Pomfrey's vial and replaced it with one of his own. "Sorry, Peony. I have to go." He met Crabbe and Goyle at the door and told them, "She's no good to us now."

Peony strained against her body bind. "Don't leave! If I fall asleep without that potion, someone might die!"

Draco grinned at her. "That's the idea. Nighty night."

Peony tried to tell Madame Pomfrey that the vial had been switched, but the nurse quickly forced the contents of Draco's vial down Peony's throat. In moments, she was asleep.

.

Terrence apparated to the gates of the castle, accompanied by a strange assortment of Wizards who were clearly not from the Ministry. He'd tried at first to reason with his supervisor, but for some strange reason, all requests involving Hogwarts were being placed on indefinite hold. Out of options, Terrence had forged the authorization papers himself and lured a gaggle of Curse Breakers away from Gringotts with a fresh batch of pignolis and the promise of "something big about to go down".

He would likely lose his job over this, or worse. He was risking his short and unproven career for righteousness and deep down inside, Terrence hoped his father would be proud.

"I'm not sure how this is going to work," he said. "Amycus Carrow threw me out and locked the doors. There's probably a spell blocking me."

A dark, gangly man reached out and touched the gate. It swung open without protest.

"Oh." Terrence said, awed by their power. "Headmaster Snape is a man of reason. Once we're inside, let me do the talking."

A crash drew their eyes up to the fourth floor window. They all watched, openmouthed, as the glass smashed outward and the Headmaster dove out, transformed into a bat-like thing and flew off into the distance. Shrieks of "Coward!" echoed off the castle walls.

Terrence shrugged, not wanting to push his luck. "Never mind. Let's go." They ran through the castle gates and after a quick word with Filch, headed straight to the hospital wing where Peony lay, writhing and crying in her sleep.

"Peony, wake up!" he called as the Curse Breakers surrounded her bed, chanting in ominous tones.

"Pe'onia!"

Peony floated, weightless over a large field as a lone figure approached her from afar.

"Pe'onia," it called to her.

"M-mother?" Peony blinked as the woman moved closer, graceful as a swan gliding on the water, surrounded by a halo of pure white turtledoves.

"It wasn't your fault," her mother told her. "Nothing ever is because you are perfect. Now it is time for you to die."

A large bird dove down from the sky, reminding Peony of her messenger eagle, but the silhouette was wrong – and it moved differently. As it circled lower, its growing wingspan blocked out the sun. The bird swooped down and clambered all over her head and shoulders, attempting to gain purchase with its large, webbed feet. It finally ended up sitting on her head with one foot on each of her shoulders.

Peony began to cry. "I'm sorry, Mother! I don't want to be perfect anymore!" She sobbed and sobbed, and then she was floating in her own tears, the weight of the albatross pushing her under and then she was sinking and thrashing –

Strong arms hauled her out of bed.

"Peony, wake up!"

She gasped for air and trembled as the detective shook her awake, feeling like she had been pulled out of a deep well.

"Pe'onia!"

She opened her eyes, still disoriented from the dream. "You… you pronounced my name, exactly how my mother did. No one has said it correctly in years."

Terrence shrugged. "I'm Italian. We pronounce everything correctly."

"How did you know what to do?" Peony asked him.

"Deduction, guesswork and a crack team of Curse Breakers." Terrence motioned to the crowd of straight-faced men off to the side. "I'd have smeared my lips with Wiggenweld potion if I had to."

Peony blushed at the thought of Terrence actually using the Wiggenweld potion. "I'm fine now. Thank you."

A heavy weight lifted from her chest (like the giant albatross of her dreams had finally clambered off her head and shoulders and flapped its large, gangly wings, taking awkwardly to the sky, never to be seen again) and she knew she'd been saved from her step-mother's curse at last. Suddenly Peony knew what it felt like to want to kiss someone for all the right reasons.

Terrence held up her communication coin from Ginny and Luna. "It's been glowing and pulsing since I got here." He looked sideways at the Curse Breakers and whispered, "I didn't know what it was, so I didn't tell anyone."

"Oh, thank you, Terrence!" Peony said to him, taking the coin from his hand and clasping it to her chest. "The others are calling me. Something has happened."

Terrence agreed. "I should bring you up to date on that. Harry Potter is back, and the Dark Lord is forming an army outside the gates of the school. He's given us one hour to turn the boy over, and the school has decided to fight. The castle is surrounded and all of the underage students are being evacuated. You have to go!"

Peony shook her head. "I'm seventeen, only three months younger than my half-sister. Everyone in polite society ignores the math, but never mind that. Luna and Ginny need my help!"

"But Peony, I have all the evidence I need for the Ministry to drop the murder charges against you. If you go with the Curse Breakers now, you'll be safe."

"I don't want to seem ungrateful, but this is bigger than you or me, or any other community service project, ever!" Peony continued on, imagining a swell of violins accompanying her melodious voice. "This is…" Peony struggled to put her finger on exactly what it was that she was becoming so adamant about. "It's important!"

Then she yawned, the commotion of the last twenty-four hours catching up with her. If she was going to risk her life for the good of all Wizard-and-Muggle-kind, she needed to be in top physical condition.

"I want to fight against the Dark Lord!" she declared. "But first, I need a short nap."

.

.

Forty-seven minutes later, Terrence and Peony came across Luna and Dean running through the halls in a panic.

"The battle has started!" Luna shouted at them. "Someone is trying to breach the South Gate! Can you lend us a hand?"

Peony strutted ahead, ready to go into battle, but then turned back to Terrence in a panic. "My wand!" she cried. "They took it from me!"

"Here." Terrence tossed a wand to her, which she caught gracefully out of the air. "I swiped it from the Headmaster's office while you were napping."

Before Peony could properly beam at him for being so noble and smart, a bolt of lightning struck the wall behind her and Peony's wand went flying. She scrambled for cover as part of a staircase crashed down to where she'd been only moments before.

"Accio wand!" Peony cried, but it was no use. She rolled on the ground, deftly dodging a killing blow as a black-robed man rushed past, but then an icy cold seeped into her bones.

As the dark cloud of Dementors closed in, all of Peony's empty, broken promises flashed before her eyes - she'd been a horrible Slytherin this year; her loyalties had changed, she'd broken most all of the rules, gone against her House and family…

"Expecto Patronum!" shouted Terrence to her left, and a silver alpaca ran past. It let out a noisy, high-pitched bray and then hurled green, grassy spit into the midst of the Dementors. As they dispersed, Peony felt much better. She tried again for a quick "thank you" and a curtsey to Terrence, but she was definitely wearing the wrong outfit for that. Before she could think any more vapid thoughts about gratitude, Ginny and Luna rushed past her, white as sheets.

"We're doomed!" Luna cried. "It's a hoard of hungry Snorkack poachers!"

Ginny gasped for breath. "Run for your life, Peony! It's a storm of cursed bludgers!"

Peony saw the oncoming terror and her blood ran cold. "Zombies!" she breathed, and froze on the spot.

A hoard stumbled out of the rubble, like Luna had described. At the head of them all, her ex-beloved Roderick looked rather put out at being dead. Behind him, the two Gryffindor boys, her father, and a whole army of people she'd grown to love in her life shook spears and pikes and all other manners of destructive implements in the air.

"You suck!" Zombie-Roderick roared, and swung his battle axe at her head.

"Get behind me!" shouted Terrence, shoving Peony out of the way. Then he froze too. Peony peered around him and saw an entirely different sight. The zombies had transformed into angry werewolves.

"Terrence, they're Boggarts! Use the spell!" she urged. But Terrence remained motionless at the sight of the monsters that had come to exact vengeance for his father's accusations.

All of a sudden, a large white bird swooped down and screeched at her with something wooden and pointy in its talons. Ultimus Prime had found her wand! Peony raised her arm to the heavens and her messenger eagle released the wand into her hand. Peony's thumb pressed down into a small (and never before detectable) notch in the handle.

"Click."

A thin blade shot out of the end of her wand, covered in tiny grey skulls with the initials "S.S." engraved on the diamond encrusted hilt. Being the only student ever (besides Hermione Granger, of course) to have memorized "A History of Hogwarts", including all of the indexes and footnotes, Peony immediately recognized that the hand-me-down wand she'd had all along was the Secret Stiletto of Salazar Slytherin that came to his faithful students in their greatest time of need.

Peony brandished the Stiletto of Slytherin before her and thought about the happiest memory she'd ever had: baking cookies with Terrence in the Hogwarts kitchens.

"Riddickulous!"

Great bolts shot out of the stiletto-wand and bathed the werewolves in a fiery light.

Peony sank to the ground and shielded her eyes from the afterglow of the most powerful spell she had ever cast. Then soft, gentle fur rubbed along her legs and hands. Peony opened her eyes in surprise. She was surrounded by a pack of the cutest little puppies she had ever seen! Unable to resist, she reached out and scratched one behind its ears and it panted and licked at her hand.

Then Terrence gathered up a few pups and pitched them into the fray. The oncoming army screamed as their worst fears hurled through the air at them. Peony wanted to help with all her heart, but she couldn't bring herself to watch fuzzballs of cuteness transform into the horrors that only the most evil minions of all time would dream up, so she did the only thing a proper lady could: she squeezed her eyes shut and clutched one of the furry little love balls until it was all over.

.

.

After the battle, Peony and Terrence entered the Great Hall and joined the remaining survivors who had fought valiantly for the freedom of all Wizardkind. The castle was damaged. Peony was damaged too, but people didn't seem to care that she wasn't perfect anymore or that she'd lost her composure and three-quarters of her dignity in the heat of battle.

Terrence spotted Kingsley Shacklebolt and headed over to offer his assistance. Peony circled the room, comforting everyone she could, except for Draco, since he had basically tried to kill her right before the battle. Draco appeared to be too busy to help with the efforts around him, not lifting a finger to gather up the injured or count the casualties. Instead, he dutifully sulked at the edge of the scene with his family, who were inexplicably allowed to remain in the hall while all the other Slytherins had been shunned to the dungeon. Turning back, Peony tried to find Terrence so she could finally give him the thanks he deserved for helping her with the Boggart-puppies, but he was already gone.

There was nothing particularly special about Paloma Papillon Pe'onia Parkinson after that day. Harry Potter (and some of his closest friends) got all the credit. Peony didn't mind because she knew she hadn't earned any medals of honor for her actions during the war (besides the bit about the Slytherin wand and the Boggart puppies, but she was too embarrassed about the rest of it to mention anything to anyone). She quietly faded into the backdrop of the aftermath, just another pretty girl with problems, and as she turned her back on the smoking ruins of her adolescence, she was finally ready to move on with her life.

.

One year later, Peony returned to gaze across the newly renovated Great Hall at Hogwarts. The large room had been expanded to accommodate a great many visitors. Candles glowed. Stars twinkled. Peony recognized many of her classmates who had also been invited to attend the One Year Anniversary Ball to commemorate the great battle that had ended the second and hopefully final wizarding war.

Peony wore a replica robe from Celestina Warbuck's last concert, except for a much shorter veil that hung from her shoulders down to mid-calf, long enough to whisper in the wind, but short enough not to entangle anyone standing nearby.

She had broken all of her promises that she'd made to herself as a first year at Hogwarts, but she'd made new ones after the final battle, the most important one being that she would be a sensible young woman and make her own rules from now on.

Draco asked her to dance, and, having had a whole year to set aside her grudges, Peony accepted graciously.

He spun her around and glanced at her shoulders. "No finches?"

Shortly after the battle, Peony had found gainful employment in the food industry, which required her to leave her avian collection at home due to industry-specific codes. But she didn't mind. Her new job demanded oh so much perfection of her and she loved every minute. It took some convincing of the management, but she was now the Head Pastry Chef at "Le Sanglier Tete" (which sounded more elegant than "The Hog's Head Inn", but in fact, was the exact same thing, only in French). Her specialty of course, was tea cakes with peach marmalade. She also wasn't too bad at whipping up a batch of pignolis in a pinch. And when Aberforth got too cranky about the snooty, upscale clientele, she'd slip a bit of Pepper-up Potion into his Firewhisky and he'd settle right down into his new life of running a sanitary and reputable establishment.

She gave Draco the short version of all of that.

Draco nodded. "Good on you, Peony." He spun her around the room a second time. "I don't see your sister anywhere."

"She's still got another six months in her court-appointed Hags Anonymous rehabilitation program," Peony told him. "Why?"

"I guess Pansy had some talent after all. The day after the battle, my hair fell out. I thought it would grow back within the year, but it looks like I'll have to visit the Curse Breakers after all. In the meantime, I've discovered this curious Muggle invention to help keep my toupee in place. Look at this." He pulled a small silver roll out of his breast pocket. "It has a light side and a dark side, and it binds anything in the universe together."

Draco stuffed the roll back into his pocket. "I'm sorry for trying to kill you last year," he said, and then knelt down in front of her. "Will you marry me?"

Peony raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you still attracted to my half-sister?"

"She cursed me, Peony. That took away any feelings I had left for her." He smiled, but then it disappeared behind a tired, drawn expression. "All I want is someone who will be kind to me and not constantly remind me of how indecent I was for all those years."

"Oh Draco," Peony said with a sigh. "I was such a silly little school girl and you were an unhinged, self-absorbed prat. Realistically, I don't see how we can ever look at each other and not remember how we once were. That's why it would never work between us."

"I thought you might feel that way." He stood back up and brushed some lint off his pant leg. "You can't blame a bloke for trying."

Peony watched Draco sulk off to the punch bowl and then scanned the room, her heart full of joy as everyone oohed and aahed over the hors d'oeuvres and light refreshments. She smiled as she recognized a familiar face exchanging pleasantries with Headmistress McGonagall.

She'd run into him a few months ago at a Ministry function, where she'd launched her debut catering branch of Aberforth's business. That night, Peony had experienced her first kiss. It was one of those awkward, bumping-noses-and-too-much-champagne affairs, but all in all, it had turned out quite pleasant. The second attempt had been worlds better, but Peony preferred to keep that cherished moment between the two of them.

Finally, she had found someone who was not only worthy of her affections, but who also looked past her perfect façade and saw her for the histrionic, obsessive-compulsive woman that she really was (and was beginning to accept, thanks to her much needed post-war-owl-post therapy sessions) and still cared for her.

Peony made her way across the room, passing by Ginny, who had been dancing with Harry Potter all night, and Luna, who sat amongst the twinkling ficus trees, sharing a pudding with Neville . If a high-strung Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw with mild psychosis could find happiness, then an almost-perfect ex-Slytherin could too.

Nothing about her life had turned out as she had planned. She had lived through one of the most difficult times in the history of Hogwarts School, but she hadn't single-handedly saved the world (it had been a collective effort in which Peony had learned the true value of her peers). She had found her best friends at Hogwarts were the ones she'd least expected. And the bloke with his back to her wasn't the man of her dreams that she'd written about in that first-year essay so long ago (but seeing that all of the men she'd ever dreamed about were dead, she wasn't complaining).

It was a moonlit night. Beautiful. Perfect.

Peony reached out and tapped her future on the shoulder. As he turned around to face her, Peony wrapped her arms around him and smiled. "Terrence," she whispered into his ear. "I'd like to dance now."

The End