Molly Prewett flung herself onto her dormitory bed, puffing. Furtively sweeping the room, she unclenched her fist and looked at the asymmetrical stone bottle in her hand. She read the note again.
"A beautiful woman deserves the most beautiful hair. Happy Birthday xx"
She opened the bottle, and the smell of cinnamon flooded the air. She half snorted, half giggled. And patted her hair, blushing. Some people.
Years later, Ginny Weasley flung herself onto her bed, crying. She didn't understand why her mum was so cross about her new shampoo. "Spice is best left in cakes" was all she'd said.