An Unusual Association
Harry was looking around, watching everyone at breakfast. It wasn't often that he was by himself at the meal, as he was usually accompanied by Ron and Hermione. He had woken up early and, unable to go back to sleep, had fussed about, finally getting his hair to lay flat. A few minutes later, he saw Hermione enter the Great Hall out of the corner of his eye. As she made her way over to the table, Harry began preparing a plate of her usual favorite breakfast foods. Noting his usual thoughtfulness, Hermione gave him a smile as she sat down next to Harry.
"Thank you, Harry."
"It's no bother, Hermione."
Shaking her head at him, Hermione began to eat the plate Harry had prepared for her. The two ate in silence letting Harry continue his observations. His eyes moved from those around him at the Gryffindor table to Malfoy and his cronies at the Slytherin table. Pausing for a moment, Harry then looked up at the Head Table. Following that, his eyes drifted to the Hufflepuff table and then finally to the Ravenclaw table.
Returning to his breakfast, Harry stayed silent as he ate a few more forkfuls of his breakfast.
"Have you ever noticed people's hair?"
Hermione stopped eating and gave him an odd look.
"What do you mean have I ever noticed people's hair?"
"I was just thinking, how people like Snape and Malfoy both have greasy, slicked hair and are both right gits."
"Harry! How can you say something like that?"
Turning to face Hermione, Harry cocked an eyebrow. "I can say it because it's true. Since my first day of Potions, he's done nothing but act like a big bully. And not just me but to every Gryffindor, most Hufflepuffs, and a few Ravenclaws. Plus, can you think of a word that better describes Malfoy?"
Hermione stayed quiet, refusing to answer Harry's question.
"And then there's the Weasleys. They all have that same Weasley red hair and they all have a tendency to overreact. Malfoy and Lucius have that same blond hair and they both acted snooty and superior while Lavender and Parvati both do that wavy thing with their hair and they are really flirty."
Harry paused just long enough to take a drink and for Hermione to start thinking about his words.
"Then you get to the really strange ones," Harry continued. "Professor McGonagall and that Slytherin, Greengrass both keep their hair in tight buns and are some of the most in control, uptight, stern people I've ever seen. Every magical I've ever seen with hair like that fits that description."
Hermione had stopped eating while she was listening to Harry and his crazy theory. But, the more she listened the more his theory made a crazy sort of sense. Harry had gone back to eating, but she couldn't stop thinking about his observations. Deciding to test something she came to a conclusion.
"I have an idea, Harry."
~~~oOoOoOo~~~
The next day, Harry waited for Hermione in the common room so they could walk to the Great Hall together for breakfast. Ron had already left, complaining about how hungry he was and how long he felt Hermione was taking. Harry shook his head at his friend's attitude. Hearing a cough, Harry looked up towards the stairs leading to the girls dormitory. His jaw dropped.
Hermione had tamed her bushy hair. While it had relaxed a bit with age, it was never as smooth as when she attended the Yule Ball. This morning, however, it was smooth but held up in a messy bun with tendrils falling down, framing her face. He had never seen her carry herself with such confidence in herself and her sexuality. She looked good and apparently knew it.
"Wow," escaped Harry's lips.
Smirking, Hermione replied, "Glad to know you realize I'm a girl." Harry worked his jaw for a bit before he replied.
"Oh, I've always known you were a girl, but this is the first time I'm having trouble keeping myself from dragging you into a broom cupboard." Harry immediately blushed, realizing what he let slip.
Hermione cocked an eyebrow before questioning Harry. "Does that mean you've never thought of dragging me into a broom cupboard and ravishing me before today?"
His blush deepening, Harry stuttered, trying to formulate his answer. "Um, you won't be mad if I say I have, will you?"
A beautiful laughter filled the common room. "No, Harry, I'm actually quite flattered you want to take me and have your wicked way with me. Though, I wish you'd told me earlier so we'd be well past clumsily fooling about by now."
Frozen by her response, Harry just gawked at her, unable to speak, but unable to keep his eyes from roaming all over her body.
With a smirk back on her face, Hermione reached up and loosed the messy bun, shaking it free and returning some of the bushiness to her hair. Her face promptly lit up, practically glowing red with embarrassment.
The two teens silently stared at each other for a bit before Hermione broke the tension. "Apparently," she started, "my theory was right. But can we forget what just happened?"
Finally broken from his stupor, Harry's green eyes bored into hers.
"I don't think so. You've never acted like that before and I can't imagine you ever saying anything like that to anyone, let alone me. It was so out of character that I'm debating dragging you to the Hospital Wing to be checked over." He paused for a moment to let his words sink in before he continued. "So, either explain what that was or you get to learn how thorough Pomfrey can be."
Sighing, Hermione gestured towards some chairs in the corner. Once the two were seated, she took a deep breath and began.
"I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how people with similar hair act certain ways, and I had this theory. I speculated that magicals are influenced by their hair, at least certain parts of their behaviour. Color. Length. Style. Texture. I suspected they all played a part in at least encouraging certain behavioural archetypes."
Harry nodded. "So rather than the personality influencing style, style influences personality?" he attempted to clarify.
Returning the nod, Hermione answered, "A gross oversimplification, but a relatively accurate synopsis. This morning I tested it by styling my hair like Lavender does when she's especially," Hermione struggled for a word, "open about her more primal desires."
"You mean when she tries to talk guys into her knickers." Harry interrupted.
Hermione snorted, "Yes, I suppose that's another way to put it. Anyway, I styled my hair that way, and came down the stairs. As soon as I saw you, I had this undeniable urge to make you desire me."
"Did that already, anyway," Harry muttered under his breath, but not quietly enough to escape Hermione's notice. Her fading blush returned.
She coughed once before continuing. "And now to really embarrass myself. It wasn't that I felt entirely new things, but it took what I already felt and changed how I acted regarding that. I have had thoughts of wanting you to do what I earlier described, but until I styled my hair that way, I'd never dreamed of saying anything about it. It was like I couldn't help but say it, hoping you'd want to act on it."
Her explanation finished, Hermione stopped talking. Every moment Harry remained silent made her want to crawl further into the first hole she could find. Finally, Harry broke the silence.
"Setting aside the fact that you and I are going to have to talk about wanting to drag each other into a broom cupboard and doing some very wicked things to one another, let's talk about what your discovery means. If you styling your hair one way makes you vocal about your desires and putting it back to normal suppresses that behavior, what do other styles and colors do?"
Hermione relaxed at being able to avoid the elephant in the room for the time being. Letting out the breath she was holding, she smiled. "That's what experimentation is for."
~~~oOoOoOo~~~
Ron Weasley had just experienced the most confusing two months of his life. Every morning, he woke up with different hair. Sometimes his hair was just longer, other times shorter. Sometimes it was slicked back, other times messy. Some days his hair was any one of blond, brown, black, pink, numerous other colors, and even, a few times, his personal favorite, Chudley Cannon Orange.
Every day he felt different. Some days he felt confidant, others impulsive. Somedays he couldn't help flirting with the pretty girls, even if they were Slytherins. Shuddering at the memory of flirting with Daphne Greengrass, Ron had told Harry, "Sure, she's a good looking bird but she's a bloody Slytherin. That's all I need to know." There were even days where Ron felt like getting out of bed was too much effort and other where he felt he would always be a failure no matter what he did. The worst day was the one where he felt like doing whatever he was told. Actually doing his essays when Hermione first asked him was near torture. Plus, for whatever reason, Hermione was constantly asking him how he felt.
Now, Ron had taken notice of Hermione's ever changing hairstyles. While her hair did not change color or length, she did try putting it in ponytails, plaits, putting it up in buns, making it do that pretty wave thing - Ron couldn't help but feel funny things when he looked at her those days - and she even wore it in pigtails one day like he had seen Ginny do as a child.
Finally, his hair was back to normal: shaggy, messy, Weasley red. He would never admit he nearly cried tears of joy at the sight.
Recalling the last two months, Ron took notice that Harry and Hermione spent a lot more time together without him. Now that he was back to normal, he had every plan to confront the two about their strange behaviour. He just needed to find the two first, a task he seemed to keep failing at.
~~~oOoOoOo~~~
Harry was vacating a broom cupboard, straightening his robes, when Hermione spoke to him, her hair in its normal, slightly bushy appearance. Her uniform was perfectly straight, though a wide grin nearly split her face.
"I think I've now compiled enough data to draw a conclusion."
Harry returned her grin. "After the last two months of helping you with all of this, even I know the conclusion. Now, the real question is, 'what do we do with this?'"
Hermione's wide grin reduced to a satisfied smile while she pondered his question. After a few seconds, she replied, "I could go to Professors McGonagall and Flitwick and probably get my findings published. This could really change the magical world." Harry's grin died.
"Or you'll find your research disavowed, yourself discredited, and likely in Azkaban for many a foreseeable future."
A sigh escaped Hermione's lips. "I know," she responded, muttering, "stupid idiotic, biased Ministry." Harry's arm wrapped around her, pulling her close and squeezing her gently against his side.
The two remained in silence, pondering the situation.
Harry took his turn to sigh. "No matter what we do, if we try to share your findings, even if we use my bloody fame to help, they will do everything they can to stop us. And it doesn't matter if we actually get it shared, they won't let it change anything."
Feeling Hermione start shaking against him, Harry grew concerned and turned his head to look at her. He was surprised to hear her chuckling, a chuckling that quickly grew into a deep belly laugh and then straight into a full-blown maniacal laughter. Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of her reaction.
"Um, Hermione?"
Hermione began trying to suppress her laughter at his question. When she finally stopped laughing, she cupped his face in her hands and stared into his eyes. "I know I've said this a lot lately, but I love you." She punctuated her statement with a gentle kiss on his lips.
When the kiss broke, Harry couldn't help but ask, "while I'm always happy to be kissed, it seems like I did something special this time. So what did I do, so I know to do it again?"
Receiving a whack to the shoulder for his snarky comment, Harry couldn't help but smile as he waited for an answer. He didn't have to wait long.
"It's thanks to you that I know how to handle this. You gave me an idea."
~~~oOoOoOo~~~
The British Wizarding World would recall it as the day the equality truly started whether they wanted it or not. They gave it a formal and fancy name, but it lost significance compared to the layman's name for it:
The Day of Crazy Hair.
One day, every member of the ministry woke up with the same hairstyle. Every wizard and witch, regardless of age and preexisting state of baldness or hair color, awoke with the exact same hair.
It was on that day that Harry Potter walked into the Ministry of Magic and was given dictatorial power over all the British Wizarding World to last for five years, the maximum length of a single term of the Minister. After that, he would relinquish all dictatorial powers, the government structure would be restored and life would continue. The next day, everything was back to normal.
No one could remember why he was given the powers, but they were glad he was. A week into his tenure, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named resurfaced, enraged far beyond the craziest Azkaban resident. Harry had already used his new authority to allow lethal force against Voldemort and his followers, marked Death Eater or not. Anyone caught financially supporting the insurgency led by Voldemort had their assets frozen followed by, after extensive questioning under Veritaserum and any other truth forcing methods he could muster, having them confiscated and used to fund the anti-insurgency efforts as well as for reparations against victims of the insurgency.
Within a year, Voldemort and everyone who supported the insurgency were dead or imprisoned in a new facility that did not rely on dementors for fear of a new power tempting the dark creatures. Harry had miraculously accomplished this with civilian casualties numbering in the double-digits.
Within three years, the temporarily mandatory "Non-Magical Society Education, Awareness, and General 'How to Blend In'" classes were no longer required. Inter-world cooperation was at a two millenium high. Obliviation cases were at the lowest levels since the invention of the requisite spell.
At the end of the Dictator's term, Harry gracefully relinquished his absolute authority. Every Magical student in the United Kingdom and Northern Ireland earned at least passing grades in non-magical compulsory education. Due to reforms he slipped into the laws, the government was as incorruptible as magic could make it. Harry did not change the government structure, as per his agreement when he took power, but he did manipulate laws and responsibilities. Anti-discrimination laws, anti-corruption laws, libel and slander laws, and countless other reforms were put into effect and magically enforced. The Old Guard, the Purebloods who agreed with Blood Superiority, being imprisoned, dead, broke, or, for those who could adapt, a whole lot wealthier due to improved trade laws prevented any backlash upon the resumption of the Ministry.
Harry led a quiet life for many years after he stepped down from power. His children attended Hogwarts, a school that was different in almost every way that mattered from when he attended. The only things it still had in common with his childhood were that it was a boarding school by the same name, that it taught magic and it was in the same location.
Hermione, Harry's wife and mother of his children, refused to rest on Harry's laurels. She pushed magical progress forward faster than the industrial revolution and the space race combined did for non-magical scientific progress. While she would only claim a small handful of discoveries as her own, she drove others to heights only imagined in fantasy.
Harry was lying in bed with Hermione, the two curled up around one another remembering the forty years since Harry's observation of people's hair had given Hermione an idea. Their youngest child had just graduated with a doctorate, and the nest was truly empty at last.
"So how does it feel, Mr Potter?" Hermione asked Harry.
Taking a long slow breath, he smiled. "I'd say, Mrs Potter, that, so far, we've done a pretty good job." Hermione gave him a solid thump on the chest for that.
"You silly prat," she replied. "Of course we've done a good job. I meant, 'what do you want to tackle next?'"
Harry just laughed softly. He knew Hermione always had to have something to do. It was one of the things he couldn't help but absolutely adore about her.
"I'm not sure. We've more than made our mark on the world, magical and non-magical, though they are one and the same now since the Statute was revoked a decade ago. The world is a far better place that when we came into it and our children are making it better in ways we could have never dreamed of. I think it may be time to admit that we've done what we could for this world and just enjoy it. It isn't like there's another world out there for us to fix."
Feeling his wife still, Harry rolled his eyes. After all their time together, he just knew what was coming next. Mentally he recited along with Hermione her next words:
"I have an idea, Harry."
This was, once again, spawned from a tangent. PaxHumana and I seem to have some very odd conversations at all hours of the day and night. A plot bunny of his spawned a plot bunny of mine, he encouraged me to pursue it, and this was born. PaxHumana has, to my eternal gratitude, beta-ed this like he has the other entries in this series.
I have a few other ideas for how this plot device might be used, so you might see a few similarly themed drabbles or possibly even a story as a result. I hope you enjoyed this little adventure of mine. Feedback is always appreciated.