I don't own Harry Potter or any of that stuff. J.K. Rowling does.

Ron Gets a Haircut

Now, it may seem slightly out of the ordinary that in a magical world where people can turn toads into teacups, fly on broomsticks, or transport themselves from Cairo to Reykjavik in a split second, that one still does not have the technology to cut his or her own hair without the assistance of an…erm…highly trained "professional". For some reason, priorities seem to be out of order. Perhaps it's because nobody is particularly willing to deal with it. After all, it's just hair, right? Wrong. It's quite an important feature! Look where it got Dumbledore. And Snape. Well, maybe not Snape. But you get the idea.

Anyhow, Ron Weasley was indeed the type of fellow who could care less about haircuts. And on this particular morning, he was not in the particular mood for a particularly annoying nuisance such as hair, particularly, to get in his way. Unfortunately, everyone else seemed to have other plans.

"What in the name of pumpkin juice is that?!" Fred guffawed as Ron came to the breakfast table.

"Well, it must be quite the hideous creature if it wants to cover its entire face," laughed George.

"Shut up!" grumbled Ron as he took his place, pulling the hair out of his eyes.

"Wow! It's even uglier than I expected!" Fred exclaimed.

"Ginny, do you think if you could teach me I'd be able to braid Monsieur Monster's mop?" George asked.

"Oh, no, it's much too long for that now. What we should go for is an afro, if we could manage it."

"And in the winter he could let it down and it would double as a cloak!"

"Shut UP!" Ron yelled.

"Alright, alright, we'll stop." said Fred.

George couldn't help but add, "You know, if you really wanted us to shut up, your hair would make a great muffler."

Ron shot George a poisonous look.

Mrs. Weasley finally came downstairs to the table, apparently not aware of what had happened, because the first words out of her mouth were,

"Ron, you really ought to get that enormous griffin growing on your head trimmed a bit."

George and Ginny couldn't help but burst out laughing, accompanied by Fred spewing a mouthful of scrambled eggs all over the table.

"Mum! It's just hair! Not really a huge deal, unless you're Mr. Lockhart," whined Ron. The look on Mrs. Weasley's face went rather dreamy for a moment. Then she snapped,

"Mr. Lockhart's hair is just fine! And today, right after breakfast, I'm taking you to town to get it cut, so that'll be the end of that!"

After a bit of wand waving to spruce up the kitchen from breakfast, Mrs. Weasley and Ron went to the fireplace. They were going to wait for Mr. Weasley, who was outside trying to dissect a muggle house lamp, but it was rather useless as he was quite involved and essentially fascinated. Fred and George begged to come along so they could take before and after pictures, but their requests were refused, mostly by threats from Ron that he'd hex them. Ron and his mother took some floo powder, stepped into the fireplace, said the words, and off they went.

They arrived in a rather unusual barber shop that could have been mistaken for a muggle one, if only the workers hadn't been goblins and if the scissors weren't flying every which way around the shop.

"Well, here we are," Mrs. Weasley said rather loudly to get some attention. Abruptly, Ron felt himself being carried away, and realized four goblins had picked him up and were taking him to a rather menacing looking chair. They tossed Ron into it and scurried away. Behind the chair, two more goblins stood. Both nodded to each other to start. All of a sudden, a pair of scissors appeared. Ron winced. One goblin snapped his fingers and then began conducting the scissors to move about, and they did so at light speed. The other goblin caught the scraps in a bag. Ron closed his eyes, all but terrified. A few moments later, the clipping noise of the scissors stopped. Ron heard a gasp from his mother. "Well…er…at least it's not too long anymore."

Ron didn't want to open his eyes. This wasn't a haircut. This was torture! He reached up to feel his new hair. But there wasn't any. He opened his eyes, and in the mirror he saw it was true: his hair was gone!

Ron simply sat there a moment. Then he screamed.

"I'm BALD! Completely BALD!"

He leapt from the chair with his hands covering his hand and ran out of the building, straight into Draco Malfoy (convenient, eh?)

"Why don't you watch where you're going, Weasley?" Malfoy growled as he dusted himself off. Then he looked up and burst out laughing.

"Love the new look, Shiny!" he cracked. Ron simply groaned and ran back into the barber shop where Mrs. Weasley was arguing with the goblins. Mostly about the price of the haircut, not about the quality of it.

"Surely there's a hair growth spell to fix it up?" Ron begged.

"Sorry, dear, those aren't safe. And they have a tendency to backfire. How would you like to have green hair the length of Dumbledore's?" Mrs. Weasley said as she handed the goblin a few knuts.

Back at the house things didn't improve much, especially with Fred and George around to poke fun.

"Looks like Monsieur Monster took a vacation and Mister Gnomeyhead took his place!" cackled Fred.

"Don't be surprised if you find an Exploding Chestnut under your pillow tonight." Ron threatened.

"Boys! I'd silence yourselves if I were you. I've already made Ginny a promise to do your hair." Mrs. Weasley winked at Ron. She continued. "And she'll get all riled up if you don't let her use the Piggly Pink Spray."

Fred and George yelled simultaneously and bolted upstairs. A second later a door slammed and some debris fell from the ceiling.

"As for now, you can have this," Mrs. Weasley said to Ron. "It used to be your father's." She summoned a box out of the air, and set it on the table. Ron opened it. Inside was a toupee.

THE END