Blondes Have More Fun
Disclaimer: I own nothing. For entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is meant.
Chapter 1-Pity Party
Hermione Granger stared at herself in the mirror and let out a long self- pitying sigh. She had been staring intently for about twenty minutes. In fact, she had been staring in the mirror without blinking for so long that her image had become blurry and distorted. She shut her eyes tightly for several seconds and mumbled something under her breath. She opened her eyes.
Damn.
She let out another self-pitying sigh. It was the same image as always staring back at her. The same unruly brunette curls framing boring brown eyes, an average complexion, typical lips and an unremarkable mouth. At least that was all she could see.
No wonder no one asked you to the ball. Who would want to be seen with you?
She shook her head forcing herself to stop looking in the bloody mirror. This was ridiculous! She cursed herself for engaging in her little pity party. If she wanted a different look then nobody was stopping her. With a determined look she rose quickly from her bed, startling a sleeping Crookshanks, and went towards Pavarti's dresser which was full of her seemingly endless supply of grooming and magical hair care products.
Hermione attempted to pull her hair back and fasten it into one of Pavarti's delicate hair clips. It took some twisting, pulling and yanking but she managed to get her hair to somewhat resemble the style that always looked so nice on Pavarti. She placed her hands on either side of her face and pulled the skin back trying to make her complexion look smoother like Cho's. She awkwardly puckered her lips trying to make them look more pouty and full like Padma's. She looked in the mirror.
Eeeekkk!
The image was far from the ravishing sex goddess she had hoped to see. She resembled a cross between Dobie the house elf and an evil clown. Almost as if in agreement with her assessment her hair sprang free of it is choking style, sending the clip sailing across the room with such velocity that it became impaled in the wood of her bedpost. She stared at the clip sticking out of her bedpost incredulously as she pushed her mass of freed curls out of her face.
See Hermione, you do have something none of the other Hogwarts girls have.who else has hair that can be considered a deadly weapon?
In an overly dramatic fashion, she threw herself onto her bed and covered her eyes with her hands, her brown locks fanning out about her. Suddenly a little pity party didn't seem like such a bad idea. She lay on her back and absent-mindedly stroked a purring Crookshanks, who had jumped up beside her. It didn't really bother her that it was two days before the ball and she was the only girl she knew without a date. Nope. It didn't bother her that everyone she knew seemed to be looking forward to the event. She didn't mind that not one boy had asked her to go. Not a big deal. She would have rather spent the time reading a good book anyway. But as head girl she was expected to attend school functions.dateless or not.
Dateless. Dateless. Dateless. Dateless.
The word repeated in her head. Sure, she could have written Victor Krum and invited him. He probably would have apparated there in an instant. But she had spent a long time establishing that she only wanted to be friends with him, and she didn't want to give him any false hope. Besides, she didn't really want to go with Victor anyway.
Although. it might be nice to show up on the arm of THE Victor Krum.
Hermione felt a twinge of guilt. She may have been pathetic, unattractive and dateless, but she certainly would never use a person just to make herself feel better. And Victor was a nice person, no matter what Ron said about him.
Ron! That prat!
Ron Weasley had his date for the ball almost as soon as it had been announced a month ago.not that she cared who Ron went with. Yes, as soon as Dumbledore had announced the ball in the great hall a month ago, Ron had been approached by Phoebe Parker, a sixth year Ravenclaw. She was a pretty, blonde petite girl. She wasn't gorgeous or anything, certainly no veela, but she seemed to have an air of confidence around her that drew people in.especially male people. Hermione could see still see her making her way over to where they had been sitting after the ball announcement. That confident sure-of-herself attitude that was so apparent when she walked. She had walked right up to him and smiled.
"Hi Ronald." She shot him a self-assured grin. "How are you?"
Nobody calls him Ronald!
"Uh.hullo.Phoebe. I'm fine.er.good."
Ron.always the smooth talker.
Well to make a long boring story short, Phoebe made quick work of making Ron her date for the Ball. She had made is seem so effortless. She had wanted something and she didn't hesitate to get it. She wanted Ron and she got Ron, simple as that.
She got my Ron.
Hermione sat up. Ron was certainly not hers. He was her best friend and she loved him.like a best friend. Sure, she knew him better than she knew herself, but that's just how best friends were supposed to be. They were just friends and they harbored only.friendly feelings towards each other.
Liar!
Okay, so there had been some.occurrences over the years. Times when she had thought she had felt some.thing between them:
Instances when she had caught him looking at her during class or when they were playing chess, and the look had seemed.hungry. A rush of electricity that she had felt once or twice.or more, when his arm had innocently brushed against hers. Moments when he had smiled at her when he noticed her gazing at him during class. A nano-second when their eyes had locked when she kissed him on the cheek before his first quidditch game. And once when she had woken up in the hospital wing in the middle of the night and realized that he was there. His head resting next to hers, those lovely red lashes covering his sleeping eyes. His hands protectively covering her own. His calm breath on her lips. Blue eyes staring into brown eyes. No words but silent understanding between them. Shutting her eyes feeling totally secure.so close. She had woken up the next morning and he was not there and she always wondered if it had just been a dream.but secretly she hoped not.
Sounds like a bit more then friendship. Why don't you just admit you l-
"Oh shut up already!" Hermione silenced her increasingly annoying inner voice with her outer one.
She hopped off her bed and grabbed a piece of parchment and quill. She was tired of thinking about Ron. There was no reason in admitting anything to herself, because obviously any perceived feelings she had felt from him was just friendship. And those occurrences were just misperceived by her, or maybe they never even existed at all. She needed to forget about Ron and concentrate on the matter at hand. It was time to take a logical approach to her problem. She scribbled on the parchment:
GOAL: Meet new and interesting individuals while cultivating meaningful and intellectually stimulating relationships for future endeavors and ongoing undertakings of both personal and/or professional nature.
Ummm.the ball is in two days, a little honesty may be called for.and a little plain English.
Hermione sighed. Fine. She dipped her quill into the ink and drew a long black line through her above statement. She wrote once again.
GOAL: Get a bloke to take you to the bloody ball.
Now that's honest!
Hermione stared at her goal statement. It was crude but true. She felt foolish but at the same time strangely uplifted. This was how she liked to solve problems, with logical thought. Now she just needed a logical method to accomplish her goal. She wrote another line.
METHODS TO ACCOMPLISH GOAL: Create new outlets through various innovative scenarios and personal metamorphosis, aimed at heightening response from perceived sources of interest. Aforementioned scenarios and metamorphosis may be of a shocking and extreme nature.
Whahhaaa???
Hermione bit her lip as she starred at the big words she had written on the parchment. Even she had no idea what she meant. She sighed and flopped back, sinking into her bed pillows. This was a hopeless waste of time. What could she do in two days to change herself, let alone a shocking change?
She was about give up and rejoin the pity party when her eyes fell on Lavender's copy of With-it Witch Weekly laying on the nightstand. On the cover was a picture of some female super-witch Hermione vaguely remembered seeing on the cover of other silly fashion magazines. She was draped in dazzling silver sexy robes that hugged her figure with a long slit up one side. They certainly were not Hogwarts standard issue robes. The super- witch was holding her wand up to her full pouty red lips seductively. Her large green eyes contrasted nicely against her long straight flaxen blonde hair that fell naturally yet somehow perfectly around her face. The words next to her picture read: Working Magic on your Image: What Hot Hot Hot Witches Want. Pg. 25 Also, how to charm off 10 pounds in 10 minutes! Pg. 65
Blonde eh? Don't they have more fun?
The muggle saying popped into her head and Hermione bolted upright her eyes wide. Blonde! That was it. She grabbed her quill and quickly drew another long black line through her methods statement. She wrote again.
METHODS TO ACCOMPLISH GOAL: Go Blonde!!
If that wasn't shocking and extreme what was? Hermione leapt off the bed and grabbed the magazine. She had to get to the library. She had some.research to do.
A/N: Before anyone jumps down my throat about the blonde thing, I just want to say that I don't necessarily think blondes have more fun. I myself am a brunette and I think I have plenty of fun. So please don't yell at me, this is just in good fun. Also, the charm 10 pounds in 10 minutes was just my own wishful thinking. ( Reviews are appreciated since I'm new at this.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. For entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is meant.
Chapter 1-Pity Party
Hermione Granger stared at herself in the mirror and let out a long self- pitying sigh. She had been staring intently for about twenty minutes. In fact, she had been staring in the mirror without blinking for so long that her image had become blurry and distorted. She shut her eyes tightly for several seconds and mumbled something under her breath. She opened her eyes.
Damn.
She let out another self-pitying sigh. It was the same image as always staring back at her. The same unruly brunette curls framing boring brown eyes, an average complexion, typical lips and an unremarkable mouth. At least that was all she could see.
No wonder no one asked you to the ball. Who would want to be seen with you?
She shook her head forcing herself to stop looking in the bloody mirror. This was ridiculous! She cursed herself for engaging in her little pity party. If she wanted a different look then nobody was stopping her. With a determined look she rose quickly from her bed, startling a sleeping Crookshanks, and went towards Pavarti's dresser which was full of her seemingly endless supply of grooming and magical hair care products.
Hermione attempted to pull her hair back and fasten it into one of Pavarti's delicate hair clips. It took some twisting, pulling and yanking but she managed to get her hair to somewhat resemble the style that always looked so nice on Pavarti. She placed her hands on either side of her face and pulled the skin back trying to make her complexion look smoother like Cho's. She awkwardly puckered her lips trying to make them look more pouty and full like Padma's. She looked in the mirror.
Eeeekkk!
The image was far from the ravishing sex goddess she had hoped to see. She resembled a cross between Dobie the house elf and an evil clown. Almost as if in agreement with her assessment her hair sprang free of it is choking style, sending the clip sailing across the room with such velocity that it became impaled in the wood of her bedpost. She stared at the clip sticking out of her bedpost incredulously as she pushed her mass of freed curls out of her face.
See Hermione, you do have something none of the other Hogwarts girls have.who else has hair that can be considered a deadly weapon?
In an overly dramatic fashion, she threw herself onto her bed and covered her eyes with her hands, her brown locks fanning out about her. Suddenly a little pity party didn't seem like such a bad idea. She lay on her back and absent-mindedly stroked a purring Crookshanks, who had jumped up beside her. It didn't really bother her that it was two days before the ball and she was the only girl she knew without a date. Nope. It didn't bother her that everyone she knew seemed to be looking forward to the event. She didn't mind that not one boy had asked her to go. Not a big deal. She would have rather spent the time reading a good book anyway. But as head girl she was expected to attend school functions.dateless or not.
Dateless. Dateless. Dateless. Dateless.
The word repeated in her head. Sure, she could have written Victor Krum and invited him. He probably would have apparated there in an instant. But she had spent a long time establishing that she only wanted to be friends with him, and she didn't want to give him any false hope. Besides, she didn't really want to go with Victor anyway.
Although. it might be nice to show up on the arm of THE Victor Krum.
Hermione felt a twinge of guilt. She may have been pathetic, unattractive and dateless, but she certainly would never use a person just to make herself feel better. And Victor was a nice person, no matter what Ron said about him.
Ron! That prat!
Ron Weasley had his date for the ball almost as soon as it had been announced a month ago.not that she cared who Ron went with. Yes, as soon as Dumbledore had announced the ball in the great hall a month ago, Ron had been approached by Phoebe Parker, a sixth year Ravenclaw. She was a pretty, blonde petite girl. She wasn't gorgeous or anything, certainly no veela, but she seemed to have an air of confidence around her that drew people in.especially male people. Hermione could see still see her making her way over to where they had been sitting after the ball announcement. That confident sure-of-herself attitude that was so apparent when she walked. She had walked right up to him and smiled.
"Hi Ronald." She shot him a self-assured grin. "How are you?"
Nobody calls him Ronald!
"Uh.hullo.Phoebe. I'm fine.er.good."
Ron.always the smooth talker.
Well to make a long boring story short, Phoebe made quick work of making Ron her date for the Ball. She had made is seem so effortless. She had wanted something and she didn't hesitate to get it. She wanted Ron and she got Ron, simple as that.
She got my Ron.
Hermione sat up. Ron was certainly not hers. He was her best friend and she loved him.like a best friend. Sure, she knew him better than she knew herself, but that's just how best friends were supposed to be. They were just friends and they harbored only.friendly feelings towards each other.
Liar!
Okay, so there had been some.occurrences over the years. Times when she had thought she had felt some.thing between them:
Instances when she had caught him looking at her during class or when they were playing chess, and the look had seemed.hungry. A rush of electricity that she had felt once or twice.or more, when his arm had innocently brushed against hers. Moments when he had smiled at her when he noticed her gazing at him during class. A nano-second when their eyes had locked when she kissed him on the cheek before his first quidditch game. And once when she had woken up in the hospital wing in the middle of the night and realized that he was there. His head resting next to hers, those lovely red lashes covering his sleeping eyes. His hands protectively covering her own. His calm breath on her lips. Blue eyes staring into brown eyes. No words but silent understanding between them. Shutting her eyes feeling totally secure.so close. She had woken up the next morning and he was not there and she always wondered if it had just been a dream.but secretly she hoped not.
Sounds like a bit more then friendship. Why don't you just admit you l-
"Oh shut up already!" Hermione silenced her increasingly annoying inner voice with her outer one.
She hopped off her bed and grabbed a piece of parchment and quill. She was tired of thinking about Ron. There was no reason in admitting anything to herself, because obviously any perceived feelings she had felt from him was just friendship. And those occurrences were just misperceived by her, or maybe they never even existed at all. She needed to forget about Ron and concentrate on the matter at hand. It was time to take a logical approach to her problem. She scribbled on the parchment:
GOAL: Meet new and interesting individuals while cultivating meaningful and intellectually stimulating relationships for future endeavors and ongoing undertakings of both personal and/or professional nature.
Ummm.the ball is in two days, a little honesty may be called for.and a little plain English.
Hermione sighed. Fine. She dipped her quill into the ink and drew a long black line through her above statement. She wrote once again.
GOAL: Get a bloke to take you to the bloody ball.
Now that's honest!
Hermione stared at her goal statement. It was crude but true. She felt foolish but at the same time strangely uplifted. This was how she liked to solve problems, with logical thought. Now she just needed a logical method to accomplish her goal. She wrote another line.
METHODS TO ACCOMPLISH GOAL: Create new outlets through various innovative scenarios and personal metamorphosis, aimed at heightening response from perceived sources of interest. Aforementioned scenarios and metamorphosis may be of a shocking and extreme nature.
Whahhaaa???
Hermione bit her lip as she starred at the big words she had written on the parchment. Even she had no idea what she meant. She sighed and flopped back, sinking into her bed pillows. This was a hopeless waste of time. What could she do in two days to change herself, let alone a shocking change?
She was about give up and rejoin the pity party when her eyes fell on Lavender's copy of With-it Witch Weekly laying on the nightstand. On the cover was a picture of some female super-witch Hermione vaguely remembered seeing on the cover of other silly fashion magazines. She was draped in dazzling silver sexy robes that hugged her figure with a long slit up one side. They certainly were not Hogwarts standard issue robes. The super- witch was holding her wand up to her full pouty red lips seductively. Her large green eyes contrasted nicely against her long straight flaxen blonde hair that fell naturally yet somehow perfectly around her face. The words next to her picture read: Working Magic on your Image: What Hot Hot Hot Witches Want. Pg. 25 Also, how to charm off 10 pounds in 10 minutes! Pg. 65
Blonde eh? Don't they have more fun?
The muggle saying popped into her head and Hermione bolted upright her eyes wide. Blonde! That was it. She grabbed her quill and quickly drew another long black line through her methods statement. She wrote again.
METHODS TO ACCOMPLISH GOAL: Go Blonde!!
If that wasn't shocking and extreme what was? Hermione leapt off the bed and grabbed the magazine. She had to get to the library. She had some.research to do.
A/N: Before anyone jumps down my throat about the blonde thing, I just want to say that I don't necessarily think blondes have more fun. I myself am a brunette and I think I have plenty of fun. So please don't yell at me, this is just in good fun. Also, the charm 10 pounds in 10 minutes was just my own wishful thinking. ( Reviews are appreciated since I'm new at this.