After this, I decided my appetite was thoroughly ruined. I had even less inclination to eat, and I was moreover extremely insulted. I stood, awkwardly holding the hair tonic at arm's length, as it were highly volatile and would explode with no warning. Gally came up to me with a very smug expression on her face. She wove herself between my legs, and I sighed. Today was turning out to be a mixture of both good and horrid, and to top it off, I was actually feeling a pang of conscience about Mariah Tooksbury.

Come, you mutinous beast, I said Gally, who purred even more loudly. I skulked to my chambers, wanting even less to encounter any more students. Spiritus mundi, I said to the painting, who depicted a girl staring with exceptionally blue eyes. She nodded, and wordlessly allowed me entrance. At least someone around here knows when to keep silent, I grumbled.

I paced around my room in my, constantly fiddling with my hair, running my hands through it, smelling it, even asking the enchanted bloody mirror. Do you think my hair is..greasy?, I asked tentatively, actually afraid that it would answer truthfully. Well, you could do with a bit of a scrub, it said, and clucked its disapproval. I frowned at it, and pulled one of the Slytherin banners over the surface.

Why does it matter, I asked to no one in particular, I'm here to teach, not to have idiot adolescent girls swoon over me. I scowled even more, crossing my arms at the memory of the flouted Gilderoy Lockhart. I looked at the hair tonic again, and opened it carefully, making sure no living or enchanted thing saw me do this. I took a whiff.

To my surprise, it smelled not half as bad as I had expected. A rather lively floral bouquet, one might say, if they were a poetic person, which I was not. I drew a bath and slowly lowered myself in, enjoying the first peaceful moment of the day. For a second, I glimpsed Hermione Granger doing the same, and found that I was suddenly in need of a very cool shower.

When I climbed out of the shower, my hair dripping wet as it always does, I noticed an immediate change. Not only was it literally squeaky clean, it was...bouncy. Bouncy, shiny, extremely feminine hair. Good gods what had she given to me? How was I expected to face my students with this disgustingly fluffy mane? Gone was my sobering blue black hair, and it was replaced by this bloody pouf on the top of my head.

No no no no no no, I mumbled, frantically scrambling for a comb or brush or hair oil. I combed it through my hair, and was even more horrified when it became....curly! I literally yelped in shock, because Gally came running through, her paws skidding to a halt on the marble. She gave me one glance, then triumphantly leapt up onto a bookshelf and went to sleep.

I tossed a quick amount of powder into my fireplace, and suddenly, a very sleepy, very confused Hermione Granger stepped out, rubbing her eyes. It took her several minutes to realize where she was, and when she did, she let out a horrified scream. If...you..touch me, I'll hex you, she warned, backing away, bumping into my books and collections.

I noticed she was also wearing boxers and a very minimal sleeping chemise. I'll remind myself of that next time, Professor, especially when you have an actual weapon, I said sarcastically, gesturing at her hand which was curled around an imaginary wand. She went colorless, and then quickly reached behind her to grab a quill.

Do save me the trouble of reorganization and put the quill back. If I was going to attack, do you not think I would do it elsewhere than the school grounds? Don't insult my intelligence, girl, I said irritably. She threw the quill over her shoulder, and crossed her arms. Than why the hell did you summon me here?, she asked harshly, clearly still not believing the fact that I would not harm her underneath Albus' nose.

What did you put in that hair tonic?, I whispered savagely, bringing my face very close to hers, so she would not mistake this a Weasley-esque prank. She caught sight of my new, fluffy mane, and could not stifle her giggle. She began to shake with laughter, turning away from me, leaving me to stare at her rather attractive box-ered bum. Her own fluffy hair was still sleep meshed and relatively flat.

She finally faced me again, and with a perfectly serious face, I did absolutely nothing, Professor, I swear. I didn't enchant it, giving it to you was as far as the joke went. I must have flushed red, for she quickly stopped speaking and turned a bright shade of pink herself. I went and retrieved the bottle from my bathroom and hurled it at her.

She caught it deftly and read the label. She let out a low groan and leaned heavily on the desk, clutching her forehead as if it pained her. When she looked up at me, her eyes were grossly apologetic. I didn't read the label correctly. I thought it said for oily hair. It read For added fluff and volume'. Oh, Severus, I'm so sorry!, she said, but she couldn't hide her amusement. Very well, Miss Granger. Although you may believe that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I for one do not wish to resemble the bloated pin cushion that so *charmingly* adorns your head, I said scathingly.

She made a sound somewhere between an enraged shout and a hysteric chortle. She quickly took my wand from me and tapped my head (though harder than was necessary). I felt the curls ease from my head, and my normally lanky hair return. I thank you, Professor Granger, though if you decide to perform such stunts again, I shall make sure this is the last Hogwarts sees of you, I said dryly, going quickly over to the mirror, and tugging off the sheet, making sure that she did not turn my head some hideous shade of purple.

When I faced her again, she was smiling behind her hand, her eyes glinting an expression that was a diverting affection, as well as some loathing. What is so funny, Professor? Is it not enough you've managed to spoil my day twice in a row?, I asked, exasperated. I walked towards her, not quite striding, but more of a tired shuffling. She didn't shrink from me, she only observed me through her extremely shrewd looking eyes.

She began to chuckle, which then progressed into a full, raucous belly laugh. She clutched her stomach as she doubled over, tears of mirth sprouting from her eyes. She gasped breath, as she looked at me, and suddenly, my face through a will of its own, formed a smile, and I find myself beginning to laugh with her. What is this, I was screaming in my head, but my face paid no mind. In fact, I laughed more loudly.

Suddenly, she stopped, and so did I. She clapped her hand over her mouth, looking thoroughly disturbed and disgusted. She skittered off the desk and flew to the door, still shielding her mouth. Her expression was so completely confused, I myself did not know how to feel. Was I that loathful that even a few seconds of shared laughter was nauseating?

She slammed the door behind me, and I hear the patter of her bare feet on the stone. I looked after her, feeling oddly crushed. I glanced helplessly at Gally, who opened one eye during this whole entire affair. She sighed, stretching her paw out.

I looked at the mirror again, and caught sight of myself. Greasy, lanky, waxy, sour, frowning, beaked, black toothed. Old. No wonder she detests me. I can't even stand the sight of myself, I said viciously.

Well, dearie, it might help if you washed your hair a bit, the mirror replied sleepily.

Oh. Shut the bloody hell up.







A/N: Are we feeling bad for Snapey yet? He's still a dastardly bastard, but there's something so pathetic about him. Anyway, hoped you liked that one. By the way, if you're curious, Gally is short for Galadriel, from LOTR. This will prove to be an interesting topic of conversation in later chappies. Thanks to reviewers. Am eternally grateful. I know I didn't really remedy the bad hair situation, but I wanted to do something kind of humorous and kind of melancholy. If that works. Whatever. Ignore me. Just read.