A Good Hair Day

by Polydicta

Summary:

For Hermione, every day is a bad hair day.

Disclaimer:

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

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A Good Hair Day

.

Hermione Granger, witch, bookworm and Head Girl stalked the corridors of Hogwarts. Her hair, a tangled mass of uncontrollable, frizzy curls, was worse than ever. It was getting late, and she just wanted to finish her patrol and to go and curl up in her bed and hide from the emotional rollercoaster she was currently riding.

Up until last summer her hair had been merely bushy, then she had become involved with Ron Weasley. Throughout the past eight months, her brown, flyaway hair had become progressively more frizzy. It was a nightmare.

At first, Ron had run his fingers through her hair, soothing her mood as they kissed.

Then the regular arguments had started, getting progressively more violent and more frequent until yesterday when she had screamed at him and told him that she never wanted to see him again.

Now, here she was: plain Hermione Granger, once more unattached and alone having driven her other best friend away, too.

She knew that the stress of her relationship with Ron had caused her to lose her hair condition, such as it was. She was getting through a large bottle of Sleekeazy's every three days, now.

"Hermione?"

"Hi Harry…"

"Are you alright, 'Mione?"

She shook her head as though trying to dislodge an insect.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. I just had enough of Ron and his …"

Harry interrupted her.

"I know, Hermione, and so have I. He was hurting you and …"

She looked up at her friend. He was blushing.

"Harry?"

"Well, I'm sorry, but I've been kind of expecting this for a while. And …"

He sighed.

"In a way, I've been kind of selfishly, umm, hoping … hoping that you'd break up with the git soon."

She gasped. "Harry? That's a terrible thing to say! Why?"

He looked her in the eye.

"Two things, really … first, and most important, he was making you unhappy. No, the git was making you utterly miserable."

He clammed up.

"And the other thing, Harry?"

Her eyes were bright.

"Well, umm, I suppose … well, I've kind of liked you for a while now …"

"Liked me?"

"Well, yes. I mean you're beautiful, you know, and brilliant and fun and, well …"

He was definitely blushing now.

"And?"

"Well, I was kind of wondering, now that you're not going with Ron any more … would you like to be my girlfriend?"

Hermione, who felt plain at best and undeniably ugly at worst was speechless. Her mind froze on the one thought … Harry Potter wants me to be his girlfriend. Was this the same Harry Potter who had crushes only on pretty girls, she wondered.

He looked at her, raising his gaze from his feet.

"Hermione? Are you …"

"Harry, how long have you …?"

"Since third year… since riding Buckbeak."

"And you never said …"

He shook his head. "I wasn't sure you'd be interested, I was afraid it would damage our friendship."

"So what changed?"

"I couldn't take not knowing. I don't want to live my life without you being a part of it, but what I really want is, I dunno, something more. A life together, or at least to see if a life together would be …"

She silenced him with her lips.

When they broke apart, she asked, "are you really asking me if I would like to spend the rest of my life with you?"

He nodded. "I guess I am, or at least, asking if you would be willing to see if we could."

"Then the answer is yes, Harry. I think we have a lot to talk about, too."

.

They finished her patrol together, and went back to her room. They sat on the sofa, talking, and she snuggled against his side, They kissed occasionally, and talked, and cuddled …

… and fell asleep there on the sofa.

.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Hermione, good morning, Love. It's time to get ready for breakfast and to visit Hogsmead."

"Hmm? Mmm."

She slowly woke from possibly the best sleep ever, realising that she had spent the night in Harry's arms. As she woke, she was luxuriating in the feel of him running his fingers through her hair in long, slow strokes.

When, at last, she managed to rise and headed into her bathroom, her mirror showed her that today was going to be her first ever good hair day. And by the way things looked, her long, wavy, brunette tresses were here to stay.