A Lesson Learned

Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments) Transfiguration Assignment #4.

Task: Write about someone being unhappy with their outer appearance and include how they try to change something, unsuccessfully.

An entry for The Word Prompt Express.

Prompt: (16) Allow

Entry for the If You Dare Challenge.

Prompt: (28) Spitting Image

AN: Victoire is twelve in this story and cannot use magic away from Hogwarts.

I rub my hands gleefully as I sneak out of my grandmother's bedroom without being detected. After all the years of hearing my aunts and uncles talking about how strict and on the ball Grandmother Molly was, I am almost disappointed that I didn't get caught. Almost. I guess that maybe age has caught up with her and she has lost her touch.

I giggle to myself as I pull the box out of my pocket and place it on the bedside table in my bedroom. It is a muggle hair dye kit that my Grandad Arthur got for my grandma ages ago, only she never showed any interest in it and kept it in her bedroom unused. Every time I came to stay at The Burrow, I would look at her hair to see if she had used it, and every time it remained stubbornly the same colour it'd always been. "I don't know why he got me it in the first place when Crinus Muto is much less trouble; I won't even mention the mess that stuff would make."

I decided that as she didn't want it I'd use it for myself. You see, I hate how I look and would love to have dark brown hair, but my mother won't allow it. I am the spitting image of her, and I think that's how she likes it. We both have long blonde hair and light blue eyes, and these features are the envy of all my female cousins. They think I'm crazy when I tell them their fiery red hair's so different and eye-catching that I'd swap in an instant. Brown, black, red, anything would be better than blonde, but I'd better not let my mum hear me say that. I shudder as I remember our last conversation.

"Blonde hair ees beautiful, and you should be proud that you have inherited eet from my side of the family. You are ze envy of your cousins, no?"

I sigh and know that I am defeated, "Yes, Mum, but I…."

"No buts, your hair ees staying blonde, Victoire."

That's what she thinks. I have a quick look at the instructions, feeling excited at this rebellion. There won't be much that she can do about it when it's already dyed, will there? Perhaps she'll like it so much she'll be okay with it? Who am I kidding? She's going to be furious, but I will cross that bridge when I get to it. I throw on some old clothes and put on the protective gloves before following the instructions eagerly. When it's ready, I grab a towel and wrap it around my shoulders.

I start to apply the mixture to my blonde hair and make sure it is spread evenly on my hair. The instructions tell me to leave it for thirty minutes, so I pace around my room impatiently while I wait. The time goes by at snail-like speed, but finally, I make my way into the bathroom and stand under the shower. As I wash the awful gunk off my hair, I can't help but imagine how great I'm going to look when it's finished. I shampoo and condition my hair and step out of the shower. Then, there's a knock at the door, and I jump as I hear my mother's voice calling out to me.

"Victoire! Ees that you in zere? Come out now!"

I groan. "Coming, Mum!" I say while wrapping a towel around myself.

Then my grandma pipes up. "You don't by any chance know the whereabouts of my muggle hair dye kit, do you, Victoire?"

"We're about to find out, Molly, and I swear to Merlin eef she has…"

I don't have time to appreciate the rare occurrence of Mum and Grandma working together, as the once locked door creaks open and I see two suspicious faces gazing at me. My mother raises her wand and does a complicated looking wave, and I feel my hair begin to dry at lightning speed. Oh, no. I watch as suspicion turns to anger and I am suddenly facing the wrath of two furious women.

"Victoire Gabrielle Weasley! How dare you steal something from my bedroom? You look awful!" My grandma shouts, and I now clearly see what my aunts and uncles mean about her being seriously scary when crossed.

"What have you done to yourself?" Mum asks me, looking horrified, and I can't stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"I've only dyed it brown, Mum, it's not the end of the world."

To my amazement, she snorts at this and gestures to the mirror that I have yet to look in. I walked over expecting to admire my new look, and let out a horrified shriek! Instead of the luscious, chocolatey locks, I was hoping to find; my hair has turned a terrible shade of green. I wanted to look beautiful, and instead, I look like something a troll would vomit up. I break out into loud sobs.

"My hair is green! What am I going to do! Please help me, Mum." When I look at her, I see that her expression has softened as she walks towards me and gathers me into a hug.

She brushes my tears away like she did when I was an infant. "Silly girl, what were you thinking?"

Molly clears her throat and speaks up, looking slightly less fierce now. "Come on, Victoire, Fleur, let's go into my room and see what we can do about this." She spoke the words in her usually gentle voice, but her eyes still showed hurt and anger, so I knew this wasn't the last I would hear about this. I nodded and walked with them both, hoping that they'd be able to sort out the mess.

I was a silly girl, but the lesson was learned the hard way, and I'd never do this again.