Hermione's Hair

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Not now, not ever.

It all started with her hair…

CHAPTER ONE

It was the final year for Hermione Granger, and she was most eager about going back to Hogwart for one last time. She had received an epistle during the summer from her favorite teacher, Professor McGonagall, the head of the Gryffindor, who congratulated Hermione about her position as the Head Girl in the Seventh year. Hermione had shown her parents her new badge and they were extremely proud of her.

It was a week before Hermione would board the train on platform nine and three-quarters for Hogwart. Hermione was in her bedroom, gazing dejectedly at her reflection and her hair, holding tightly onto a comb that was very crooked and bent. She sighed to herself, frustrated.

"Argh! Why don't my hair ever stay down? I spend more time trying to tame my hair than dressing myself! This is completely preposterous! GOSH! I wish I just –" Hermione paused amid her frantic ranting when someone rapped softly on her bedroom door. Mrs. Granger's head poked cautiously inside.

"Honey, put that brush of yours on the dresser…that's it. Now, let's sit on your bed and discuss this problem of yours, hmm?"

Hermione sighed, exasperated, and rolled her eyes, but did as she was told, albeit grudgingly.

"Why don't we do something about that hair of yours, if you always have to be so worked up over it? We can go find a hair salon –"

"MOM. We've tried that many times before remember? And none of that had worked. No one can possibly tame this crazy hair of mine…I swear, sometimes I think the hair has its own mind!"

Mrs. Granger smiled inwardly and tried to suppress her laughter. She raised her hand to Hermione's tangled, auburn hair and pursed her lips before speaking.

"…I think there might be someone who'll be able to accomplish this seemingly impossible task. That is, if you're interested."

Mrs. Granger gave Hermione a baiting look and Hermione glared half-heartedly at her mom for Mrs. Granger to continue. She laughed nervously before replying.

"Well, I have a friend who used to love playing with hair. Cutting them, braiding them, and she always comes to school, every single week, with a completely different yet amazing hairstyle that she invented all by herself. Many girls used to go to her house to get their hair done. It was pretty impressive for a twelve-years-old.

"Anyhow, many years before you were born, something terrible had happened to her beloved husband and he died, leaving her with nothing but a son, who was, coincidentally and unfortunately, kidnapped on the very same day. Her son was never to be found. Two heartbreaks in such a short period of time had left her devastated. So much so that she ceased to persist many of her hobbies, including doing hair. She doesn't do anything anymore, except staring disconsolately at the ceiling. At first, I had tried to bring her old self back, but the plan backfired and she told me to leave her alone…I still go visit her now and then, so I was wondering that since I had planned to visit her tomorrow, would you like to come with me and help her regain her optimistic self once more?"

Hermione looked away and thought, 'Poor lady, I'll do what I can, even if she can't help me with my hair…I'll try to help her find happiness…everyone deserves to be happy.'

"I'll try, Mom," Hermione said slowly, "So…what's her name?"

"Rosalyn. Rosalyn Angelina Snape." Mrs. Granger replied without blinking her eyes while Hermione wore a shocked expression on her face for a fleeting moment before she smiled knowingly to herself.

"So what time are we going tomorrow?" Hermione asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon…around 3 O'clock." Mrs. Granger answered, getting up from the bed and eyeing Hermione curiously before existing the room.

"Goodnight, honey, and try to get some sleep." Mrs. Granger gave her one last inquisitive glance before shutting the door lightly behind her.

"Unbelievable…Professor Snape's mother…Rosalyn…! I can't wait to spill the good news! Mrs. Snape will finally be happy!" Hermione whispered excitedly to herself as she rushed about in her bedroom, looking for her sleeping gown.

Next morning, Hermione chose to wear a nice, yellow, sunflower dress and tried to tie her hair up in a ponytail. Hermione wanted to make herself as presentable as possible, for she was, after all, going to meet the mother of her potion teacher, Professor Snape, and she wanted to create a good impression.

Finally, after a brief walk in the woods behind the Granger's household, Mrs. Granger and Hermione came face to face with a small, cozy bungalow. Mrs. Granger knocked on the wooden frame, and after a few second, the door creaked open and a petite, slender woman appeared at the doorway, her face wearing a sad, grim smile.

"Hello, Anne," greeted Rosalyn to Mrs. Granger, "and who's this?"

"My daughter, Hermione." Hermione curtsied a little, though she had no idea why she did that. Rosalyn surveyed Hermione carefully for a minute before turning around and walking back inside, leaving the door open for them to enter. Hermione followed her mother in and shut the door behind her. Then, she looked around the dusty room.

'This place seemed so dark, and gloomy, and depressing, so full of sorrow…' Hermione thought sadly to herself, 'It makes me want to cry…"

"Sit down and have some tea," Rosalyn's voice broke Hermione's train of thought. Hermione nodded gratefully before accepting a cup of tea. Inhaling the sweet scent of the tea, Hermione sighed blissfully.

"This tea is really nice, Mrs. Snape."

"Thank you." Rosalyn replied, giving Hermione yet another sorrowful smile. Something caught in Hermione's throat and a single tear graced Hermione's left cheek. Both Rosalyn and Mrs. Granger looked a Hermione in surprised confusion. However, before anyone could inquire about her tear, Hermione whispered,

"He's alive, Mrs. Snape. He's still alive…"

Rosalyn stared at Hermione, her eyes wide with disbelief, before seeing the unadulterated truth in Hermione's hazel orbs. Rosalyn's eyes began to cloud her vision as she whispered back in shock.

"My baby...my baby b-boy?" Rosalyn asked, her voice fearful and breaking.

Hermione couldn't speak while gazing upon a face full of so much emotion, so she mutely nodded then turned away from Rosalyn's face and glanced at her mother's astonished face, before replying, her eyes not moving from Mrs. Granger's face.

"He's my potion teacher. Professor Severus Snape."