A/N: Thanks to broadwaygoldstar for the suggestion :)


Hermione Granger

Hermione's mother knew that her daughter's hair was a pure, fully-fledged monster a few months into her daughter's life. It had hurt little Hermione so much when her mother brushed her hair, so she kept her infant's hair as short as possible for as long as she could. After Mrs. Granger read Rapunzel to Hermione, she wanted to grow out her hair. Though the three-year-old winced during the painful bad hair days, she never complained.

Then she started school.

Hermione was a sweet girl, but she had trouble making friends with the other kids. After the first week of school, she was deemed an annoying know-it-all who had hair that could store various items. It became a cruel game for the kids to see how many things Hermione's hair could hold. After running to her mother's car after school with a lollipop, a watch, and a pen in her hair, Mrs. Granger knew that she had to do something with her daughter's hair. Mrs. Granger prowled the hair care aisles with the eye of a determined vulture for an entire weekend, to no avail. She knew that if she had Hermione's hair cut short, they would just keep sticking things in it and maybe start calling her a boy. By Sunday afternoon, she was desperate. Finally she found a smoothing product that just might work for Hermione's hair.

After drenching Hermione's hair in the product the next morning, her hair looked much flatter than usual. It wasn't anywhere near straight, yet it was flat enough that it couldn't hold anything for more than five seconds. Just as Mrs. Granger said "Have a nice day at school, love," to Hermione, the sky erupted with a furious rain storm. Hermione covered her entire head with her raincoat as she dashed into the school building. She went immediately to the girl's loo, only to find that her hair was puffing up right before her eyes. She forced her eyes to remain dry for the entire day. By lunch, nobody had commented about her hair. Maybe, she thought hopefully, no one cares.

Mid-way through lunchtime, Amanda and Nicole sauntered over to Hermione's seat. She was not daft - there was no way that those two were coming over to make friendly conversation with her. Hermione swallowed the last of her sandwich and prepared herself for the teasing.

"Nice hair, Hermione," Nicole said. "How did you get it like that? Did your mother throw lightning bolts at your head?"

They both laughed their high-pitched laughs and took bites from their crackers and applesauce.

"We were wondering," said Amanda, "how does your mother hate your hair? It must be such a pain to brush it every day –"

"If she even brushes it!" Nicole added. They both fell against each other, laughing their hearts out.

Hermione never liked it when they made fun of her. But when those girls took the mickey out of her mother, a foreign type of fury came to the surface. As Nicole and Amanda laughed together, a friction began between their heads. A gentle sort of electricity bathed their hair, slowly frizzing their mops. The speed of the gradual puffiness sped up until the girls were sporting Hermione's exact hairdo. When they were done laughing, they both went to brush back a strand of their hair.

The looks on their faces would entertain Hermione for many years to come. Amanda and Nicole were both so horrified that their eyes bulged out of their sockets, their breath seemed to halt, and their mouths formed a silent scream.

"You both have such nice hair," Hermione said. "Did you throw lightning bolts at each other?"