Disclaimer: Sadly, Nicholas Flamel, Albus Dumbledore, and the last name of every person mentioned in this article, don't belong to me. My heart breaks.

Author's Note: This is short, compared to some of the other stories, but I hope you still like it. Your suggestions for questions I should answer have all been very inspiring, though some of them leave me completely stumped and the obvious, boring answer in my head. Please try questions that don't have obvious answers. I mean, like really, really obvious ones. Though, you never know, I might use it. I'm trying to figure out which one I'll answer next... Please give me more, as I can't think of any myself.

6- The Hair of the Matter

Why doesn't Albus Dumbledore cut his hair?

Excerpt from an article from The Daily Prophet, Recent Productions section:

"The Traditional Centennial Magical Performance of the story of Merlin and King Arthur, performed every hundred years, barely escaped disaster by a hair... literally.

Upon the preview performance, to which several esteemed critics and family members of the performers were invited, Tom Skeeter was reportedly known to have protested vehemently upon the entrance of Merlin: "By Scott! His hair's too short!" Murmurs pierced the crowd: 'He's right...' 'What's Merlin without the hair?'

So much outrage was caused that the part of Merlin, previously played by Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Esteemed Member of the Wizgamot, known for the defeat of Grindewald in 1945), was emptied, and the director, Karl Diggory, was forced to set about to find someone with hair long enough for the part.

"Sure, it was a minor detail," says Diggory, "but people like to concentrate on the things that are wrong instead of the many that are right. It's the principle of the thing! I mean, if it's a play about the esteemed Merlin, then why can't we get it right?" One must note, however, that he did not say anything of the matter until the night before.

Mick Flint, a spectator of the preview, says simply, "I'm glad someone kicked Dumbledore out of the play." He was later admitted to St. Mungo's after drinking an Aging Potion he had made himself to try and get the part of Merlin. The aging potion, after being inspected by several Ministry officials, was said to have a silver candle stick, five unicorn hares ("how was I supposed to know what kind of hair the book meant?" asks Flint), and the contents of his cuboard under the stairs. It has not yet been confirmed, but rumors have spread that Flint's one mistake was to not learn how to read before starting the potion.

Nicholas Flamel, alchemist and medical researcher, kindly agreed to replace Dumbledore, but not before telling reporters, "Skeeter is a finicky twit."

"I think this play simply shows," Mikara Snape confided just yesterday, "the lack of detail Diggle uses when not put under public pressure. This is where our tax money is going, when we should be stamping out vampires and werewolves!" Snape did not go to the play.

The play, however, was super, given 15.7 stars out of five by critics and Ministry officials. The only bad comment was from Tad Lawrence, who managed to tell us Daren Lockhart was an arrogant and awful King Arthur who smiled too much, before his wife came over and clouted him on the head with her handbag.

"E's 'ad too much to drink, 'ee 'as," she gruffly commented before dragging her husband off.

Dumbledore seems quite happy at the outcome of the show, but he did express his disappointment at not being Merlin.

"I was looking forward to this experience," he commented. "At being told my hair was too short, I admitted my hair was only 25 inches compared to Merlin's 50.72, but I'm still a bit miffed that critics had decided to be nit-picky about that particular point."

Rumors suggest Dumbledore is finding a way to cheer himself- they say he's not cutting his hair until the next centennial play, so he can be Merlin then. So, for our play, we give a hip-hip-hairay, and we wish Dumbledore good luck.

Albus Dumbledore looked fondly at the yellowed piece of parchment fondly, carefully placing it back under his pillow with one last pat. He set his pillow down and reached for his bedside table, pulling out the tape measure he kept there. He checked the length of his hair with the tape measure: 48.6 inches.

As he put the tape measure back, turned off his magical lamp and turned over, he absently muttered, "Thirty more years. Just thirty more years."

Author's Note: So... aren't you going to tell me what you liked? Because the little button in the right-bottom-corner of this page is begging you to click it. Can't you hear it? "Click me... Click me..."