10 Things That Annoy
#4 Don't Play With My Hair!
I love my hair, and everyone knows it; either from getting hexed from touching it or seeing me fix it in the mornings, and sometimes because of both. After many people seeing the aforementioned things it was no surprise to anyone when I came out to be gay. Even my parents knew it and were okay with the idea. Now anyone who has ever met me should learn that I don't like my head touched, especially my hair; though my current boyfriend Harry Potter never learns.
Either way we had decided to do something Harry wanted to do on a rainy day in April. So at nine a.m. I found myself surrounded by small children in the local muggle orphanage.
"Mr. Draco! Look at me!" One of the smaller girls shouted, and I was forced to watch the child balance a plate sideways on her head.
Before I could say anything Harry interrupted. "Wow Estelle that's talent, isn't it Draco?" I nodded, secretly impressed with the girls skills.
"Yea, it's great." I muttered.
A set of paternal twins about three came up to me next, "Mister Draco, can we play with your hair?"
"No you may not." I snapped at them.
"Drake, be nice, they just wanna make you look all pretty." Harry grinned.
"Listen Potter, under no circumstances am I going to allow these urchins to touch my hair. I spend hours every morning to make it look this good and I am not about to even think about letting anyone or anything mess it up." I ranted.
Draco, you can fix it, just let them play with your hair. Besides, once we get home it doesn't stand a chance to stay all fixed up anyway."
"Why do you sound so sure of yourself Harry?"
"Why shouldn't I sound sure of myself? I'm usually right." He flashed me a smirk that was worthy of being from me. "Just let them play with your hair, it'll be worth your while, trust me."
"Potter, you're getting on my nerves. They aren't going to play with my hair, who knows what germs and diseases they have on their hands that could ruin my hair."
"You're such a ponce." He snorted.
"I am not, and to prove it to you I'll let them play with my hair." I smiled as though I had beaten him.
"That's all I ask hon." He grinned, and then it hit me.
"You little bugger, you tricked me!" I accused.
"I did no such thing, you're being delusional." He shook his head. "Anyone want to play kickball outside?" he called and about fifteen children came and crowded around his legs.
Harry herded the group outside, leaving me with four young kids ready to give my hair a makeover, much to my dismay. A few hours later when we left the orphanage, I was desperately seeking a brush. My hair which had been hanging perfectly straight around my head when we arrived now stood in a dozen or so pigtails on my scalp. Then to make matters all the more worse, Harry had forbidden me from taking them out until we had made it away from the building.
"Please can I fix my hair now?" I whined as soon as I could no longer see the orphanage in the side view mirror.
"Aw, come on Drake, I think it's cute." He giggled, yes, Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world actually giggled.
"I think it makes me look stupid." I huffed, "Now give me back my brush." I tried to grab the hygiene tool hidden under his leg.
"No! I want you to keep the hair-do…or at least let me take pictures for Ron."
"I swear to Merlin if you EVER think about thinking about telling the blood traitor about this I'll castrate you." I threatened.
"Fine. Look, we're almost home. Let me take it out and play with it for a while and I promise to forget about the very notion of telling Ronald."
"You better." I grumbled, slouching in my seat and mumbling about the unfairness of this situation. It was only ten minutes later that we pulled into our driveway, and I all but ran into the house before any living thing could so much as glance at me.
"Drakey-poo, come on out to the sitting room so I can fix your hair." Harry yelled up the stairs. I trudged down the stairs into the main room and plopped on the couch.
"What have I told you about using that dreadful nickname Potter?" I snapped, "Merlin, you never listen! I've hated that nickname from the second Pansy gave it to me, and I have no clue how many times I've explained the hair thing to you. You're really thick Harry, really thick."
"Hush you git, and hold still." He sat behind me and started to take out the pigtails.
"Ouch, you're hurting me!" I whined. "Be careful."
"You whine to much, besides, that was the last one." He dropped another hair tie in my lap and began to run a brush through my locks. "You'd look really cute with troll hair." He mused, holding handfuls of platinum hair up in the air.
"Don't even think about it Potter." I snarled, "It won't happen now or any other time or place."
"You keep on counting on that Draco." He muttered, pecking my cheek. He left my hair alone and by ten that night I was laying down to sleep.
"HAROLD JAMES POTTER!!!" I screamed the next morning, flinching as the sound echoed through the bathroom. Waiting for him to show himself, I once again tried to make my hair go back to the flat state it belonged in. Harry came to stand in the doorway, grinning like an idiot.
"You screamed dear?" he asked as though not seeing my plight.
"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" I asked quietly.
"No…is there something you need to tell me?"
"Could I borrow your wand?" he handed me the slender stick of wood. I muttered something and waved it before reading the three spells hovering in front of the wands' tip. "Harry darling, would you do me a favour and put my hair back to it proper state." I kept my voice level as I handed the wand back to its owner.
"Nope." In a flash I was holding him on the floor, twisting his arm.
"Put it right. NOW!" I yelled.
"NEVER!" remembering my own wand I got off my boyfriend and using my own magic, set my hair straight, then resumed my position in front of Harry. Giving my wand a quick wave and an incomprehensible bit of Latin, Harry was looking at me expectantly.
"What was that suppose to do? Because I don't think it worked."
"Oh it worked. Try touching my hair." He obeyed, and reached out to grab my head, only to be shocked.
"Bugger."
"Yep, and that will happen every single time you try to touch." I smirked as the ebony hair man sucked at him fingers.
Even to this day Harry is still thick headed, and never learns not to touch my head. He still gets a good zap every now and again. Though Pansy and Blaise find it a great source of entertainment. I still hate to have my hair touched, and messed with, but as Harry puts it I guess one of these days I'll have to get over my poncy self and deal with it. I say I'll cross that bridge if and when I come to it.
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Um…well while going through a bunch of old papers from last year, I found the outline for this and realized "Hey I haven't updated this in over a year. I seem to have regained my ability to work on this fic, so I still plan on finishing it. As always, the reserve on the Harry Potter plot line is way over the amount of money I own so nothing belongs to me. Please R&R!!!
