The Black Sheep of the Family
DISCLAIMER: The wonderful world of Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, nor does this story as it is based off a challenge I found in the forums.
A/N: This is my second attempt at writing fanfiction and I know it isn't that good yet but I aim to improve. This is just a short (hopefully humourous) one-shot detailing what happens when Ron decides to clean his room.
The Black Sheep of the Family
Ron snickered to himself as he picked up a slimy green bottle of Snifflers' auto-replenishing snot goo, shoving it quickly into the pocket of his tatty shorts for later use.
He hadn't wanted to tidy his room, his mum had shouted at him for a good half hour before he agreed to, but now he was busy cleaning he was finding it more interesting then he first thought.
He had so far collected a near empty bottle of invisible ink, some old fluff covered in surge a large amount of fluff he wasn't sure what kind they were, the previously mentioned snot goo and self-tripping shoelaces he planned on using on George, revenge for the tarantula he'd found in his bed earlier that morning.
And he'd only cleared a quarter of his already-starting-to-look-less-small room! Who knows what else he will find in this sticky treasure trove? At the exact moment he thought this his foot caught on something large and cylindrical, sending him stumbling face first into a large pile of his own dirty socks.
Grumbling to himself, he stood and spat a neon yellow polka-dotted sock out of his mouth, swirling his tongue in disgust, before turning to see what had tripped him.
Upon discovering a suspicious looking black bottle, he immediately picked it up and shook it in an effort to determine its contents. Pulling the bottle away from his ear, he squinted attempting to read the label;
"Hair dye?" He said, confused, "I wonder what colour it is? Maybe I should try it out?"
And with these words of wisdom, the 7-year old tugged the lid off and upended the contents of the entire bottle quickly over his head.
Immediately he felt a stinging in his eyes and yelled out, scrubbing at his scrunched eyelids with his fists in a frenzied attempt to lessen the pain.
As the pain gradually eased up, he tore his hands away from his eyes and moved them swiftly up to his hair, testing the dampness of it. Upon discovering it had in fact dried (surprisingly quickly, in fact) he ran off to find a mirror, still covering his head with his hands- a futile attempt to hide his hair in case someone spotted him.
Barrelling into the bathroom he slammed the door behind him and turned to face the mirror, only to find…
"BLACK?!"
And not only was his hair black, but his face and hands, along with the entirety of his upper body. He looked like a muggle coal miner! Everything was black! Black as the darkest night , black as soulless evil, black as the dirtiest bear, black as a penguin! (Oh wait they weren't black..) Yes, admittedly at this point he was panicking, badly.
"MUUUUUUUMMM!"
Four Years Later
The first time Ron saw Harry Potter, it was actually a rather nasty shock. He wasn't filled with amazement at Harry's celebrity status, he didn't start screaming excitedly or begging for an autograph, he didn't even stare at Harry's scar.
In fact the first thing Ron did when he met the famed Boy-Who-Lived was cringe in unease at the all too familiar colour of Harry's jet-black hair.
