"That hat is ridiculous."
"Thanks, Gin."
Hermione was momentarily occupied, her mouth firmly attached to Ron's face, her hands groping his backside without shame.
Harry sat at the dinette table in the corner of the kitchen and waited. The oversized balloon-shaped Rastafarian tam was heavy on his head, and frankly didn't do a good enough job of hiding the stalks that now poked out a significant distance from his head.
"Don't you have to be Jamaican to wear one of those?" Ginny sat next to him and clasped her hands around her teacup. Her cropped ginger hair crested dramatically above her face, in a style shared by all of her Quidditch teammates as a show of unity. It made her look somewhat boyish, and Harry found it rather appealing for obvious reasons.
"It's just a hat," Harry said. "It's cold out."
"It's a daft shape," she said. "Why does it stick out in those funny peaks?"
"It just does. Look, I need to speak to Hermione privately." Harry had to fight the urge to hide the telltale points with his hands.
"It's my flat, too."
They glared at each other bitterly as Hermione and Ron continued their shameless groping. Finally they parted and Ron sat quickly to hide the growing problem in his trousers. Hermione busied herself by putting the kettle on, her cheeks flushed and her hair askew.
"So what did you want to talk about, Harry?" She smiled pleasantly as she straightened her blouse. "Is it that horrid hat?"
"No," Harry's heart beat frantically in his chest. "It's sort of," he looked to Ron for help. "Sort of-"
"Below that," Ron finished.
"Love life problems?" Hermione asked with deep sympathy.
"No!" Harry's face flushed deep crimson. "Above that! On my head!"
"Oh for Merlin's sake," Ginny's hand dashed out and yanked the tam off.
Hermione dropped both cups of tea.
"Reparo," Ron was quick on the draw again, rescuing the shattered cups and saucers before the pieces had stopped skittering across the floor. Hermione didn't notice, she was too busy dropping into the chair across from Harry and staring at his head.
Ginny burst out laughing. She doubled over and guffawed hysterically, totally oblivious to Harry's glower. When she ran out of breath she looked up at his face and fell over laughing again.
"Come on, Ginny," Ron said. "Have a heart."
"I always said he was never horny enough when we were dating," she wheezed between gales of laughter. "Maybe he's just making up for lost time!"
"Very funny," Harry sat back in his chair and stared angrily at the ceiling.
"Can I look?" Hermione asked as she circled the table. She stood behind him and touched here and there, uttering the occasional thoughtful grunt and muttering to herself. "Do they hurt?"
"No," Harry said. "They feel like an extension of my skull."
"They sort of are," she said. "They're bony protrusions."
"Don't!" Ron snapped his finger at Ginny who looked up in delight.
"When did this happen?" Hermione went to her desk to get a magnifying glass.
"A couple of weeks ago," Harry said. "I noticed them after Ron's collar in Camden."
"He cast a Patronus but the target countered," Ron said. "Neither of us heard what he cast, and unfortunately I had to drop him before he could get away with the muggle children he'd taken hostage."
"So go visit a Necromancer," Hermione said as she peered through the lens at Harry's scalp.
"Why didn't we think of that?" Harry moaned. "And I let you throw a Depilatorus at me."
"Is that why you're looking so neat and tidy?" Ginny swiped at his fuzzy new growth, but Harry blocked her with a slash of his hand.
"It is rather flattering, Harry," Hermione set the magnifier down.
"Yeah?" Harry turned to look at her cockeyed. "You think I'm looking rather fit with my buzzed hair and my bloody horns?"
"Well obviously not the horns," she circled around back to her chair. "And by the way, they're not horns. They're antlers."
"How can you tell?" Harry reached up to touch the base where they seamlessly met his scalp.
"They're covered in deer velvet," she said. "And they're starting to branch."
"They are?" Harry leapt up from the table and ran to the mirror in the loo. He stared at the elongated growths in horror as he confirmed that, yes, the tips had split into two small mini-horns. Antlers. Whatever. "Why is this happening?" he cried. "Hermione, you have to do something!"
"Come sit on the sofa," she waved him over to the living room and sat, patting the cushion beside her. He obediently followed and sat before her in total supplication. He didn't care what she did, as long as the blasted things disappeared.
"Let me see your hands," she inspected his fingers all the way down to his nails. "Let me see your feet."
Ron made a fuss as Harry kicked off his boots and peeled off his socks. Harry told him to fuck off, they didn't smell that bad. Hermione politely said nothing as she peered at his toes and the balls of his feet.
"Are you walking any differently?" she asked. "Has your balance shifted?"
"No," he glanced at Ron. "Am I walking any differently?"
"Not that I've noticed," Ron shrugged.
"How about hair?" Hermione asked. "Are you growing hair where you shouldn't?"
"How would I know?" Harry glared at Ron. "It's only just beginning to grow back in."
"Watch it," Hermione seized Harry's left horn and held him steady. "You caught my hair."
"Sorry," Harry peeked up over the rim of his glasses as she held him with one hand and untangled herself with the other.
"Look at how docile he is," Ginny grinned. "Noted for future reference."
"So what do you think?" Harry ignored his ex-girlfriend's jab. "Can you get rid of them?"
"I don't know of anything specific to horns or antlers," she went to the bookcase and traced her finger across a row of bindings. "There's one I can think of," she trailed off as she thumbed through a tome and read carefully.
"Depiliantlerus!" She pointed her wand and knocked Harry over with an unexpected spell. He rolled off of the sofa and hit the floor hard.
"Hermione!" he shouted. "Isn't that the same spell that Ron used? If I'm bald again I swear to Merlin-"
"It's a derivation of the same spell," she slapped the book closed and shoved it back onto the shelf. "Anyway, it didn't work. It just removed the velvet."
Harry's hands shook as he raised them to touch his horns, which were now as hard and smooth as bone. He groaned and climbed back onto the sofa.
"I have an idea," Ron squeezed in between Harry and Hermione and tossed his arm around her shoulders. Ginny dropped onto the beanbag chair that was a leftover from their muggle-themed housewarming party last spring. Positioned directly in front of their small Christmas tree, it looked as though branches were sprouting from her head. Too bad they weren't. Misery loves company.
"Your last idea left me bald," Harry said. He shifted on the cushion to angle his head so he wouldn't poke Ron's eye out.
"It's just bone, right?" Ron looked to Hermione for confirmation. "And you said they don't hurt," he turned back to Harry. "Why not just saw them off?"
"No!" Harry leaped up from his seat. "Are you mad?"
"Make up your mind, do you want horns or not?" Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Not!" Harry grabbed his jacket. "Look, I'm late for my appointment with the Ministry Healer. Firecall me if you think of anything that doesn't involve hacking me to pieces."
And with that he Disapparated.
Without his hat.
He arrived in the waiting room of the Department of Magical Maladies and Wizard Health Services office just half a second before he realized his error. The instant his feet felt solid ground he threw his coat over his head and peeked out to see if anyone had noticed him.
To his utter dismay none other than Rita Skeeter was sitting in a chair near an enchanted bowlless fish tank with a copy of Witch Weekly in her hands. She looked up and pursed her lips, then smiled acidly.
"My my, Mr. Potter," she said. "What are you hiding under there? Growing a second head to contain your ego, perhaps?"
"Shit," was the most intelligent comeback he could think of. He decided in an instant to skip his appointment and Disapparated straight back to Hermione and Ginny's place.
"Hello!" he called. "I'm just getting my hat. The wards weren't set so..."
They must have left right after he did, because there was no answer. He peered into the kitchen and spotted his Rastafarian tam on the table, right where he had left it. How stupid to leave it behind. He was lucky he'd remembered his coat, otherwise he could have ended up on the front page of the Daily Prophet, horns and all.
Potter Problem: Horny Hero Healthy?
Come on, the Prophet's headlines aren't that bad.
He retrieved his hat and stretched it between his fingers, grimly aware that it wouldn't be big enough for much longer. He wondered if it was too late to start shopping for a tophat.
"Now!"
Someone tackled him from behind, seizing his horns like handlebars and hugging their legs around his waist. He staggered back beneath the weight, then reared forward to catch his balance. His attacker wrenched hard on his left horn and pulled him around in a circle, then squeezed his middle with their knees, sending him stumbling into the living room.
Ron stood at the coffee table, saw in hand, his expression drawn and tense. Hermione hovered in the doorway of the master bedroom with her hands clasped to her mouth, eyes brimming with tears.
"Yeehaw!" Ginny hollered in his ear in a poorly accented Yankee twang. "Ride 'em cowboy!"
"Get off of me!" Harry tried to pry her hands free, but she had leverage and could now steer him anywhere she wanted to go.
"Kneel," she ordered. "Put your head down on the table."
"We shouldn't be doing this," Hermione whimpered.
"Down on the table," Ginny wrenched his head again and squeezed hard. "We're at least going to make hats fit again."
"Ginny!" Harry wheeled his arms and toppled over, spilling her onto the floor and banging his shoulder on the table.
Ginny scrambled to her feet and threw herself across his back again, and with a swift kick she was up and over, sprawled across him and guiding his head to the tabletop.
"That's enough!" Hermione cried. "Ron! Stop!"
"He's fine," Ron called. "You're fine, aren't you, Harry?" He planted his hand on the side of Harry's head and braced the saw against the hard bone of his right antler.
"My glasses! My glasses!" Harry shouted, flailing his arms at the determined girl who pinned him down.
"Here," Ginny yanked his glasses off of his face and cast them aside. "Do it, Ron."
"Don't hurt him!" Hermione yelled.
Harry wondered why she wasn't intervening if she was so distressed. Then he heard a pair of words erupt from her lips that gave him hope.
"Petrificus Totalus!" she shouted.
Oh thank Merlin, now get the hell off of- Belatedly Harry realized his error. She hadn't thrown a body bind at her future husband and sister-in-law, she'd thrown a body bind at him. He was frozen, unable to struggle or free himself, not even to cry or curse. And Ron was beginning to cut.
The sound was horrific, loud and grinding, and it was impossible to pretend it wasn't the sound of something being excised from his skull. His already blurry vision vibrated and his teeth clacked together, just mobile enough to make the entire sensation that much more unbearable.
And it hurt. Not the sawing part, that was reasonably pain free. But his head was mashed between Ron's palm and the oak tabletop, and that was actually quite agonizing. He screamed inside of his mind, trying to find a mental escape from the awfulness. But in the end he just had to bear it.
The first horn snapped free and clattered to the floor. As one, Ginny and Ron flipped him over and went after the other side. Finally they both stepped back and nodded for Hermione to release the curse.
Harry felt mobility return to his limbs and he gasped for breath as the pent-up adrenaline coursed through him. His arms and legs were weak and trembling, his hands shook visibly as he raised them to his head to feel what had been done. Beneath his fingers the jagged edges of the cut told him it wasn't the most cosmetic job in the world, and the knuckle-length knots told him it wasn't enough to be able to go hat-free again. But at least they could be covered up now.
He found his glasses on the floor beside him and slipped them over his face. Ron looked stern. Hermione looked guilty. Ginny was grinning ear to ear.
"Fuck you guys," Harry grumbled as he wobbled to his feet.
"Oh come on," Ginny said. "I'll ask Mum to knit you a new hat. But you're going to want to file down those edges first."
"I'm leaving," Harry swept his Rastafarian tam off of the table and glared at them one more time before Disapparating for home.