I do not own Harry Potter, I only own my original characters and the story.

Chapter 29: Hair

Harry glanced around the Potions classroom as he took his seat next to Ron. It looked unchanged, though, as usual, Snape had apparently acquired a few more slimy things to adorn the shelves lining his room. The group in NEWT level Potions was rather small, and Harry noted that Malfoy was once again lacking his lackeys, sitting at his table with a sullen look on his face.

Harry saw Malfoy look up when Snape made his normal sweeping entrance, and the look on his face was resentful, obviously resenting his Head of House for punishing him for his indiscretion against the Potter boy.

Snape's look swept over the room, and, as Harry had somehow known it would, came to rest on him. He heaved a small sigh, watching as the warning signs developed on Snape's face with almost clinical detachment.

First, his eyes would narrow, yes, there they go. His mouth would thin then quirk up in a disdainful smirk. Harry noted this as well. He wondered if Snape realized his warning signals were so easily read. Okay, now he would pull his cloak around himself regally, and his prominent nostrils will flare.

'He's getting ready,' Harry thought in resignation. He could almost see the process of formulating insults flashing behind Snape unfathomable eyes. 'Five, four, three...two...one...' Harry muttered under his breath.

"And if it isn't Mr. Potter." Snape sneered, sweeping around to stand in front of his desk. "So KIND of you to join us today, Mr. Potter. I do hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience for you." Harry noted the startled looks of the few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, who, unlike the rest of them, had not had the benefit of experiencing Snape's venom towards Harry before.

"It would seem, Mr. Potter, that you have chosen the wrong seat." He swept his gaze across the room, until an ugly smile passed over his face. Ron gave Harry a horrified look.

"Mr. Mason." He nearly purred, and the boy with the heavy brown hair from DADA jerked his gaze up to their professor. "I do think that you and Potter will benefit from each other's experience." He darted a dark look at Ron. "You will switch seats with Mr. Weasley. In an advanced class like this, the Houses should mix, don't you think?" This was very much not a question.

Ron obviously didn't think so. He stared at the person who would be his partner with budding horror. It was none other than Malfoy. Malfoy, in turn, was staring at Professor Snape in disbelief. The red-headed young man gathered up his books, and, with a last desperate look at Harry, went to Malfoy's table, giving Gradly a hard stare for his apologetic shrug as they passed.

Gradly, with another apologetic shrug at Harry, sat down and pulled out a battered notebook, his quill scratching at whatever it was he had been interrupted from. A moment later he shut the notebook with a displeased shake of his head.

Snape had resumed his place at the front of the class, glancing at the timepiece on his desk. "In approximately 30 seconds, those of you who were successful in the experiment during the last class will notice the results." He looked at Harry with his face pinched, "Mr. Potter. Tell me what the results of this particular potion," He waved his wand at the board and a list of ingredients and their preparation appeared, "should be." He seemed to be very intent on receiving a wrong answer.

Harry was grateful for his hours of studying with Hermione. "It should cause a change in hair color, Sir."

"What color, Potter?" Harry saw him flick his gaze to Hermione with a small curl of his lip.

Harry hesitated, staring intently at the board. He couldn't remember discussing that. The mixture of gillyflower with hazel wood bark would make a dark blue, but then the seawater could, with the other two, make it become purple. But then there was... "Orange, Sir. The presence of tumeric would negate the blue tones of the results, though the potion itself would be blue."

Snape, looking disappointed that Harry had gotten the right answer, nodded. He looked at the timepiece again. "And...now."

Suddenly, several of the students, including Hermione, gained orange hair, the color starting at the roots, then draining down to the tips of their hair like water. A few seconds later, Gradly's did. "The timing on your potion is off, Mr. Mason. You added too much toad spleen."

Gradly nodded blandly, opening his notebook and making a few more marks on the page. Harry noted that only half the room had gained orange hair, but he wasn't sure if Ron's counted or not. His hair might have looked a little lighter than its usual color, but it was difficult to tell. Several other sported different shades, red, usually, or yellow.

Snape pointed each of these out, asking Harry to identify why their potions had not worked as planned, sneering when Harry could not answer most times.

It was only when they were halfway through the lesson the Neville's new hair color made its appearance. No matter how hard Harry thought, he could not have identified where the clumsy boy had gone wrong. Besides his hair changing an hour after it should have, it also turned a horrid shade of pea green while growing to touch his shoulders, then past his shoulders.

Neville yelped as he grabbed at the growing locks just before they landed in the seething mixture he and a Ravenclaw girl were working on. Then Snape was there, the bottle in his hand dripping a mixture on Neville's head. The hair turned back to its normal color, and stopped growing, leaving Neville with hair halfway down his back and a frightened expression.

"I could...FEEL it growing." He said in a strangled voice. Snape stood over him, his face dreadful in its impassiveness. He said something in a voice meant only for Neville's ears, and fought-against tears welled in the boys eyes. Then Snape walked away, while the girl Neville was working with wordlessly reached in her bag and handed Neville a piece of string with which to bind his hair back as they continued working.

"Thought he'd explode then," Gradly murmured quietly to Harry.

Harry nodded in agreement, liking the Slytherin despite himself. Gradly was quiet and methodical in all he did, from preparing and measuring the potion ingredients, to his conversation. He handed the other boy the powdered beetle legs, and watched as he carefully slipped the powder in, while Harry stirred.

By the time they reached the end of class, their potion was correct in color and composition, and Harry was wondering why Snape had such a nasty look on his face when he assigned them to each other. Gradly was obviously capable. He decided to bring it up.

"Er...Gradly?" He asked the boy. Gradly looked at him curiously, pushing his hair out of where it had stubbornly fallen across his eyes again. "Do you know why Snape had that odd look on his face when he assigned us together?"

Gradly made a face, "Oh, that." He stirred five more times, carefully, before switching direction. "He finds me strange, I think." He shrugged. "He's my head of house, but I don't think he quite understands how I came to be there." He glanced at Harry from beneath his forelock. "I don't really understand why he did what he did. I finally got my chance to really talk to Draco..." He shook his orange tinted head. "I guess he doesn't want me meddling."

"Meddling?"

"I've said too much." Gradly murmured half to himself.

Harry was just about to resume his questions when Snape stood again at the front of his class, this occasioning, as always, silence. "All of you," He said, "Except Potter, and Longbottom, will take your antidotes now." He indicated the timepiece on his desk with a sweeping gesture. "This is set to the same time as the clock in the Great Hall. At Six o'clock exactly, as the dinner hour is winding down, your hair, if the potion is brewed correctly, will return to normal. I will be watching from the head table. For your homework, you will write a paper on the antidote, ten inches. And also," This with a look at Neville that made him shrink back, "You will include at least a paragraph on why Mr. Longbottom's potion went so drastically wrong. Class dismissed."



Hermione was examining Neville's hair when Harry nodded goodbye to Gradly, who ignored Ron's hard look while nodding back.

"Was it terrible?" Ron asked, scowling, "Malfoy tried to deliberately trip my potion up several times. He was probably thinking he could always whine to Snape that it was my fault."

"Actually," Harry hedged, "Gradly was a good partner."

"A Slytherin?"

"Yeah, he was a Slytherin, but he's not much like Malfoy otherwise. Now that I think about it, he mainly ignored Malfoy through the years."

"I hardly recognized him," Hermione asserted, releasing Neville's hair. "I think he usually sat in the back, very quiet."

Harry gave Neville a long look. "You know, it suits you."

Neville flushed, pleased despite himself. "Do you really think so?" He somewhat self-consciously, shaking his dark hair back and re-tying it.

Hermione nodded, "It IS quite nice. Maybe you should try it out for a while, see how you like it before you decide to get it cut."

"I guess I will, at least until the Christmas holidays." Neville nodded.

"Why then?" Ron asked him as they moved towards their common room to put their books away before dinner.

"Gran may not like it. In fact, I'm fairly certain she won't." Neville said tiredly.

Hermione exchanged glances with Harry and Ron. "Haven't you ever done anything to defy her?" She asked.

"Well," Neville hedged, and Harry suddenly remembered the gum wrapper from his mother that Neville hid in his pocket. "It's hard to, you see. She raised me after-after it happened, and she's done so much for me." He shook his head mournfully. "I guess I feel I owe it to her to try and do what she wants for me."

Harry touched Hermione's arm when she made to answer that, shaking his head when she looked at him questioningly. He turned to Neville, "I think, what she'd ultimately want, is for you to be happy, and to be your own person."

"I guess you're right, Harry." Neville said, brightening slightly. He looked at Hermione as they climbed the last staircase leading to the Gryffindor common room. She had her arm tucked in Ron's and was looking at Harry with a speculative gleam in her eyes. She caught Neville's glance.

"Yes?" She asked curiously.

"How do you tend long hair?" He asked a bit sheepishly.

Harry couldn't help but laugh.

They sat in their usual places at the dinner table, Hermione between Harry and Ginny. Hermione had gotten quite a few looks when she entered the Great Hall beside Ron. Lavender and Parvati had exchanged glances, then both began giggling.

"What is it?" Hermione asked them irritably, tucking her wild orange hair behind her ears.

"Well, we knew you liked Ron." Lavender started.

"But if you were trying to match you should have made your hair a bit more red." Parvati simpered. Hermione stared at her, a dark blush rising in her cheeks.

"Of course, the color you're turning right now is dead on." Lavender giggled.

"It's for Potions." Hermione muttered, turning her attention to her plate. "It will change back at six o'clock."

They were, however, highly complimentary about Neville's new hairstyle, obviously confusing as well as pleasing to the accident prone boy. He had bound it back again with a length of leather thong, returning the tie that he had borrowed to the Ravenclaw girl, Melanie was her name, Neville told them.

"You should try braiding it," Lavender suggested.

"I don't know," Parvati interjected, oblivious to the embarrassed look Neville was slanting her, "His hair looks nice as it is." She turned to Neville, "What did you use anyway?"

"It was an accident." He mumbled. "I didn't..."

"Well, there are charms you can use," Lavender interrupted, "But they don't seem to work as nicely, I tried one once and it came out all scraggly." They continued their conversation, moving on to hair care products.

Harry noticed Neville listening closely. He hoped the young man would keep his new hairstyle, if only for a measure of showing independence. Hair, and then maybe career of choice, though it would be a great leap from one to the other.

He wondered momentarily what had prompted him to say what he did to Neville, but a moment later he put it form his mind, glancing at the clock and noting that it was nearly six.

Harry shifted his gaze to the head table, seeing Snape watching his students closely. He looked away from him, then caught the eyes of Mitexi, who was still looking rather sorry as she gazed at the black haired young man. Her green eyed stare was almost painful.

Harry hesitated a second, then smiled at her, a bit wanly, but still a smile. Her answering change in expression was radiant, her green eyes glowing happily.

"Thank you, Harry." Her voice sounded in his head, very quietly.

Harry moved his eyes away from her, almost uncomfortable at the gratefulness implicit in her tone. His gaze shifted to Tainn, who looked at his sister, then at Harry, nodding with a quick quirk upwards of the corners of his mouth before turning to an animated conversation he was having with Hagrid. Harry caught the words 'blast-ended skrewts' and shuddered, though Tainn seemed quite fascinated.

Then it was six o'clock, and Harry caught many exclamations of surprise around the room as the orange color drained from all the Potion student's hair.

Harry heard another cry, this one rather dismayed, and quite close by. He turned quickly to his seatmates. Hermione was holding out a lock of her curly hair and eying it with dawning horror. It was no longer orange, that was certain. Instead, her hair had turned a bright blond. It was actually rather becoming, but Hermione didn't think so.

She summed up her feeling on the matter very succinctly. "I did the potion...WRONG." She said in a disbelieving tone. "I can't believe this," She wailed, rummaging frantically through her ever-present bag for her potions notebook.

Ron nudged her and whispered her name, jerking his chin in the direction of the head table. Snape was staring at the Gryffindor table, more specifically, at Hermione.

As they watched, he bent his head and made a mark in his book.

"A zero, I KNOW he gave me a zero," Hermione whimpered, close to tears. Ron put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly.

But the most disturbing thing about Snape at this moment, was not the grade he was likely giving Hermione, but the fact that Snape was smiling, a vindicated, beatific smile.

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