A Hair Raiser by Two-Idiots

Disclaimer: If you know us, then you know what we have to say right here. We own nothing but the plot, assuming there is one. Read only if you possess the true spirit of sarcasm and all around general smarminess that we feel is needed to truly appreciate a work of art such as this. Not that we wanna brag of course. Oh hell. Just read and review. Oh and if you're not too busy go and read our long ago finished, and seemingly never ending story, If Rumors were True. Not that we're begging or anything.

Summary: Someone's got a new look…… and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse. Inspired by a certain picture from the 4th movie.

"Oh my God. Did you see it? It's only been two-and-a-half months! My dog can't even grow its fur that fast," said some random Ravenclaw to her equally random friend.

"You'd think someone would have told him, I mean, does he think it looks good on him? I've seen better looking do's on a mop!"

"Isn't he friends with that hero kid?"

"Oh yeah. What was his name again? Henry Potter? Larry Potter? Harry Snotter?"

"Yeah. But what's his friends name? Jon Beasley?"

"No, it's Weasel. Like that song from last year. Weasel King."

"No, I'm pretty sure it's Beasley."

"Well, whatever he has the misfortune of being called, what is up with his hair? It looks like my Gran's shag carpet."

"Seriously. I almost wanna flip him over and use him to sweep the floor."

"Hey isn't that his girlfriend over there? We can certainly see where he gets his hair tips from."

"I swear. My house elf is better groomed than her. Not that house elves have hair, but if they did it couldn't be any worse than that mess."

"Come on, it's time for class. Care of Magical Creatures with that big guy. What's his name again? Fagrid? Jagrid?"

"You are so bad with names. It's Magrid you idiot! How many years have we been going to this school now?"

"Well excuse me Mr. Harry Snotter! Everyone knows that kid's name is Larry Potter."

Meanwhile, in the (dun, dun, dun) library:

"Ron! Didn't I tell you not to show your face around here again until you cut that crap off! It was alright when you were scaring girls into my arms, but now you just put them in the hospital wing. They seem to have the idea that you're one of Hagrid's new pets. Now you go take care of this situation. I'll not be having you mess up my dates."

"But I think Hermione really likes my hair this way. She keeps staring at me all the time now and –"

"That's glaring mate, not staring. For God sakes, you look like you're wearing Crookshanks on your head! Cut your hair! Soon! Like now! Please, as my friend it's your duty to look your best. I know you're not used to that concept in your house (ouch. That was harsh), but you want to improve yourself don't you?"

Harry storms off, with his robes billowing behind him, because he thinks it makes him look cool. Or, maybe he has a Superman complex, and he likes to make it look like a cape. Food for thought. Anyway, he storms off, leaving Ron confused, hurt, confused, angry, confused, poor, but mostly just confused. (we like taking pot shots at the Weasley's. we do tend to take pleasure out of their pain).

However, despite his confusion, and poorness, Ron had a Quidditch match coming up the next day that he needed to mentally prepare himself for. Not too sure what he does, but I believe the chanting of some mantra, perhaps along the lines of 'I am not poor. I am not a Weasel. I am better than Harry Potter,' comes into play at some point in time.

Next Day: Quidditch Game: Naturally, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

So far the score was tied 30 minutes into the game, Tied because Slytherin's keeper was crap, how sad, and Ron's hair kept getting into his eyes making him miss the blocks. But we secretly think the real reason is he's crap too. The hair's just a clever excuse. Oh. We see how it is. Now we know why he didn't want to cut it. He'd have nothing to blame when they lost.

Meanwhile somewhere up in the stands, in the Ravenclaw section one random friend says to another:

"Would you listen to that? I told you that kids name was Weasel. The Slytherins were just singing about him now!"

Back to the game:

The snitch happens to be right behind Ron's head, and of course Harry and Draco notice it at exactly the same moment. Draco, being two feet away from Ron. Harry, being 200 feet away from. Of course they make it to Ron at the exact same moment, because Harry empowered by all the fanfictions out there that grace him with the bulgiest (is that a word?) muscles in the world, is always able to fly that mile it seems to take to reach the snitch each and every time. But the snitch chose just that moment to ruin Ron's life by diving into his long, shaggy, red hair. It was lost and gone forever (oh my darling Clemintine). Harry and Draco, not being able to except a tied a game, both lunge for Ron, accidently knocking him off of his broom. And by God, that's supposedly a lot of Quidditch muscles to be knocking a person about with. Ron fell to the ground . Draco landed first and started rifling through Ron's hair, promising himself he would scour his hands with boiling water when it was all over. Ron tried to lift his head up to beg of help from his best friend Harry. Only to have Harry slam Ron's face into the ground maybe or would mud be a better touch?

"Damn you Ron! I told you to cut that hair! Now look what you've done! You just can't do anything right can you?" Harry yells while snatching out fistfuls of red hair.

"Oh dear God! It's like trying to find the a needle in a haystack! Except that the haystacks a lot cleaner. Lord Weasley, ever heard of shampoo!" Draco growls, because apparently people like for him to growl a lot. (See there. If we were really mean, we'd have said it was like trying to find a knut in a family of Weasley's. But we digress.)

"Oh! Ha! I found it! I found it! Ha Potter! In your face! In your scarred up face! Now excuse me while I go do my victory dance?" Is it just us, or does anyone else think it would be amusing to see Draco do a victory dance? Maybe he'll even spike the snitch. Perhaps on Ron's back. Ron, who just seems to be lying there in shock, cradling in his hands the remains of his hair.

"Ron! You lost this game for me! YOU lost this game for ME! I told you, I begged you, I even threatened you to lose that ridiculous hair! But would you listen to me? NO! Had to do things his own way! Had to have the long hair! And where has it gotten us? We've lost the game, and now just look at you! You look like Mr. Clean!" we figured if we threw in enough punctuation we could convey exactly how angry Harry is. Did it work?

"Now Ron, if you'll excuse me, my good friend Percy had something important he needed to show me, in or near a big shaky crate." Okay. That went over like everyone's head. You'd have to read If Rumors were True to get that one.

And so Ron learned the moral of the story which is: Cut your hair you damn hippie! (a special jab at a dear classmate of ours who we'd like to dedicate this story to. He knows who he is. And he also knows how he earned the name the Hippie.) Of course, with Ron sitting there in the mud on the pitch, admist his tears, he asks himself just exactly who is this Mr. Clean and he's wondering if the ladies dig a bald guy.

THE END

AN/ Okay. That was certainly nice and random wasn't it? We just happened to see a picture of Rupert Grint with some really long hair for the next movie. And of course we would have made fun of him, but why risk getting sued? Anyway, no Ron's were harmed in the making of this story so can't we all just laugh about it? And for the love of God no flames. Because, be warned, we are holding Crookshanks hostage, and we're gonna use the flames to burn him alive. Just kidding, Or are we? Would you be willing to risk it though? You might, because in the grand scheme of things, who cares about Crookshanks? Oh well. If you havfe taken the time to read this incredibly long and slightly deranged AN, you might as well review right?