As a young wizard I knew what I would be when I got older--one of the greatest wizards ever. I would defeat the dark and evil, I would be the defender of the innocent, avenger of the wrong. And I was right, because look at me now, five time winner of the Witch Weekly, Best Smile Award!
There've been many dangers I have faced. There were hags that tried to eat me alive and even a vampire with a taste for AB Negative blood. There was even a yeti in Tibet who scared the Dali Lama out of his wits. Let's just say that that yeti won't be eating any more Buddhists for a very long time.
Perhaps one of my most great and dangerous deeds was the time when I defeated a great werewolf that was frightening a village. I leapt on him, like so, bared my teeth, without the faintest trace of my most charming smile, and said a venemous spell, leaving the werewolf just a whimpering young man, never to be a werewolf again. I was very welcomed into that village after that and was even offered free lodging for the night but I just say, "I'm sorry, there is work to be done, evil to be defeated. I must leave you now--bless you all!" and flew off on my top of the line broomstick.
But perhaps one of the greatest evil's I ever faced was one right before me. It took five years to tame the beast so that is now my best friend. Those were hard, tedious times, some I consider the darkest time of my life. But in the end I did it. Yes--my greatest challenge was taming my hair.
I can exclusively reveal in this sample of Magical Me that yes, my hair was not always so shiny, smooth and gorgeous. I am also man enough to admit that my hair was once...it was once....frizzy. That isn't all. When I tried to grow it out, it began to poof up, so I had an--er--Afro. Let me tell you when I walked down those mean Hogsmeade streets I got a lot more scared stares than the hags in Transylvania ever did. I knew then, that it was time to tackle my inner demon. Before I could go on to fame, I had to improve myself, to embrace my inner beauty; kind like what monks did in Tibet. It was a very holy time when I realized it was time for me to have absolutely fantastic hair.
It was uphill after that. I tried absolutely everything. I started with a comb, breaking the frizzing curls up, but all that left me with was another demon--split ends. So I bought Mrs. Mangler's Absolutely Gorgeous No Tangle Formula for Men. All that succeeded in doing was turning my hair into a wet mop of poof. Feeling rather desperate I asked my beauty advisor to help me. His name was Claude, and he was from France; one of the most renowned hair dresser in that small little country.
"Zis eez 'orrible!" Claude said when I sheepishly entered his studio (he likes to call it his studio).
This I thought was a bit rich of Claude who had grown his hair into a smooth black tower that teetered upon his head. Also his teeth were terrible and mine were still bright, white, and shiny.
"Can you fix it?' I asked.
Claude was beginning to look excited. "Eef I could do this, it would be a masterpiece! The world woold know moi as Claude the garcon who conquered zee rogue 'air. Eet's fabulous!"
At least this is what I thought he said--if you don't tell anyone, that man had quite a thick accent--most annoying.
And then he started on me. He plunked my Afro into a basin of frothing water and began to massage my head vigorously, singing some Frenchie song. He whipped me around grinned.
"Now, zee zecret ingredients!" he said delightedly. He came at me with dozens of cans of heaven knows what--foams and gels and all sorts of things. Sometimes Claude would emit small noises like "Zut, zut, et zut!" and "Quel dommage" and once he even said, "C'est un garcon bete, moche et demode! Il est horrible!" But I didn't know what that meant.
He took out a set of bright pink curlers and smiled at me. "And now the crowning touch!" he said, as he rolled my hair up. I sat there looking quite stupid for a bit of time before Claude took my hair out. Drying it instantly with his wand, he let the curlers down--I looked in the mirror.
It truly touched me--I felt as if I had achieved Nirvana like those Buddhists. I was the enlightened one. As I looked into the mirror at my gorgeous reflection I felt as if I had achieved a new level of understanding.
Looking back on it, I doubt I could have even battled a single grindylow without my Claude's help with my hair. It made a huge difference: in my career, in my life, in my heart. Because as I admired my new hairdo I knew that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, was a new man.