Hermoine's World

The sun is barely up, I get out of bed and sneak slowly out of the dormitory, trying not to wake the others who are still sleeping. I carry my brush and a bottle of Sleakeazy’s Hair Potion to the girl’s toilets. Looking in the mirror, I poked at my teeth. They looked to be getting more bucktoothy everyday. Next, I talked the hair, forcing my brush through the rough, bushy specter on my head.  “Bullocks,” I said to myself, as the brush became entangled in my hair. Even with me pulling and pulling, the brush was stuck, like a fly in a spider’s web. Giving one final tug, I sighed. I slowly withdrew my wand, my wooden friend used much too much as a weapon against the brown monster. Holding the brush, and the connected section of my hair, away from my head, I aimed my wand, closed my eyes and whispered, “Relashio.” An iron prison-guard, my hair continued to hold on to the brush, even though it was no longer part of my head. For a few moments, I stared solemnly at the casualties from the battle of hair and brush: no survivors. With a deep breath, I looked up to survey the damage. A large section of my hair is now half as long as the rest. Hoping to salvage the rest, I grab the jar of Sleakeazy’s and apply a dollop to my head, trying to spread as much as I can over the Quidditch pitch of hair. Taking another dollop, I paid special attention to the recently dwarfed part of my hair. I slicked it down and tried to adjust the hair around it to cover it up, to no avail. Now, about a sixth of my hair is slicked down and shorted, the goblin in a lineup of disheveled wizards. Hoping that no one is awake yet, I run back to the dormitory to try to find a Hair Growth Charm.

Ever wish that you had magic to deal with your hair in the morning? Well, there are some things that everyone has to suffer through.