A:N/ Well…Here it is. Yes, I know, FINALLY! Feel free to throw sticks, stones, and broken bottles at my poor body. : ) I hope you all like it, and I'm open to suggestions for what come's next. It's a mystery to me, but maybe not to some of you?… Anywho, R&R, and on with the show!
Disclaimer: I own very little except for some outragously priced college textbooks. These characters belong to J.K. Rowling, however, the plot belongs to moi. Please don't take it from me : )
Chapter 10
They would ask where he was later of course, but the only way he would ever go to Christmas dinner this year was if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named raised from his grave and exercised Crucio on him all the way to the staff table. Besides, no doubt Granger would be in the library; he would scare her into fixing his hair and then make up a suitable excuse for not showing up to be smirked at by his female colleagues (who still had not let up about his 'admirer').
He had spent nine hours, nine hours, trying to undo the little wench's color job, and the only thing he'd managed to accomplish was to horribly splotch his hair into a lopsided, multi-colored pink instead of sheer hot pink. Charms had never been his best subject – he'd been all to happy to be able to drop it after OWLS had passed. He peered out the door to determine whether anyone was in the hall. Luckily, all the students had either departed Hogwarts for Christmas break, or those left had already gathered to stuff themselves and pull crackers at dinner. Now was the perfect time to track down Granger and make her pay.
Hermione sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. She felt more exhausted than she ever had. Numerous trips to the infirmary, playing nursemaid to Hagrid's brother Grawp, turning herself into some sort of cat person with a botched Polyjuice Potion; none of it compared to the amount of mental anguish and strain she had poured into the library today. 'Well, maybe it compared…but still!' she thought grimly. It was only the second time the library had ever let her down. There seemed to be nothing about horrible curses that turned people bald in any of the books, tomes, or scrolls stuffing the shelves; the only thing that had come close was a pledge charm that swore that if the pledge was broken the offender's hair would fall out.
Groaning, Hermione pulled herself out of her chair and walked back to the bookshelf to find a new prospect. She wished the boys had stayed to help, but she couldn't blame them for not wanting to miss Christmas dinner; and after all, they had stayed to help her for over six hours before leaving to help Luna Lovegood banish "Wightle-Fitted Monges" from the mistletoe all over the castle. 'Honestly, some people will believe anything,' she thought, 'It's been almost two hours though. I have the feeling Harry and Ron took their time "banishing" the Monges for her.' She glanced at her watch; almost five o'clock. Dinner would start at six, but there was no way in blazes she was going like this.
'Hmm…Beauty for the Older Witch or Wizard: Look Younger, Hipper, and Stylish without Dangourous Spells. What a title. Sheesh. What's this doing in the school library, anyway? They'd better have some hair-thickening spells in here.
After skimming through the mind-numbing book for over thirty minutes, she struck gold.
"If you're hair is thinning out, or you're going bald, don't panic!" she read out loud, "Just take a deep breath," she unconciously breathed heavily, "and use this spell to have your own hair naturally (with a little help) duplicate itself to cover you in your former glory. See the diagram for the proper 'swish and flick' method, and say Prudocere kashaer. In no time at all, your own beautiful locks will once again be covering your head."
'Well, that sounds promising.' Without further ado, Hermione twisted her wand in the figure-eight path required and uttered the fatal words. She heard a gasp seconds later, but everything had suddenly gone dark, and she couldn't see anything.
"Miss Granger!"
Severus had practically sprinted to get to the library before anyone saw him. He had almost run right into Potter, Weasley, and that odd Lovegood girl. After that Minerva had come strolling by in her animagus form – he'd thought he was done for then. She'd stopped and sniffed, as if she could smell him, but then continued by his hiding place. Just when he thought the insanity was over, he'd come into the library to see Hermione Granger (bald head shining) pronounce a Hair Growing charm on her head.
He'd gasped and unthinkingly blurted out her name before he could stop himself as her eyebrows immideately started growing at such a rapid face that her face was covered in a matter of seconds. 'Didn't the silly chit realize that you had to have hair before you could make it grow?' Apparently she hadn't, but she certainly did now.
"Miss Granger! What have you done?!" Hermione jumped and turned blindly toward the sound of his voice.
"Ahdidedo gowma hereba, uh ibin wowk."
Snape almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous she sounded. If it weren't for the gravity of the situation, he probably would have – reputation or not. It wasn't everyday a stuffy Gryffindor prefect accidently replicated her eyebrows. Unfortunately, at the rate Granger's hair was multiplying, suffication was a very real danger.
Hermione suddenly began dashing about in little spurts, first in one way, then the other. She bumped into numerous chairs before Snape realized that she was trying to keep her ankle-length eyebrows from twisting around her legs and immobilising her completely.
"Will you be still?!" 'No, of course you won't.' "Miss Granger! If you don't be still and tell me the counter-spell then I will be unable to help you!"
"Ahdome bodah outerell!" the scurrying hairball wailed.
"What?!"
"Ah dome boh dah outer ell!" it repeated.
"Wait a minute." Snape performed a small trimming charm around the area of Hermione's mouth. 'That way, she won't suffocate, and I can gloat longer about her predicament.' "Now, kindly say that again."
"I don't know the counter-spell!" came the exasperated reply.
"You don't know the counter-spell?! You stupidly preformed a potentially dangerous" a shriek of outrage tried to interupt him, but he ignored it, "spell without even the slightest idea what the counter-spell was? That, Miss Granger, is idiotic even for you. That is, in fact, moronic for even a Hufflepuff. If you hadn't accidentally ruined your hair in the first place you wouldn't have…"
He might have continued his verbal abuse, had not a creature resembling a giant nuffler with a very bad hair day flung itself at him angrily. 'Apparently she doesn't think her bald head was her fault.' Hermion was sputtering with rage…actually, she might have been talking, but Snape couldn't tell since it was already low-pitched, plus filtered through facial hair.
"OW! HOW DARE YOU BITE ME! OW! What's wrong with you, you little…furball! OW! Don't kick me!" Snape tried desprately to shove the infuriated student off of him, but to no avail. "Listen to me you little," Snape suddenly groaned and curled defensively into as much of a ball as he could manage. "That wasn't fair!" he whimpered.
Hermione momentarily halted her onslaught, giving Severus a chance to yank her eyebrows and twist. Hermione howled briefly, but retaliated twisting one of his ears fiercely. "OOOWWWW! If you don't stop I'll see you suspended Hermione Granger!" A yank on his hair actually dislodged several greasy strands in Hermione's fist. "YOUCH!! THAT DOES IT FURBALL! I'M ALERTING THE HEADMASTER!"
The attack ended as apbruptly as it had begun, with both of them panting for breath. Furball…er…Hermione was perched on top Snape – pinning him to the ground – with his finger between her teeth, ready to bite down.
"That's better. Now, kindly remover your hair-covered self from my chest and I'll help you find that counter-spell."
She glared at him, but Hermione tried to get up – really she did. Snape could tell because the rigor of her attempted exit jostled him severly. The trouble was, while they had been wrestling on the floor, Hermione's eyebrows had continued to grow. If she had been standing straight, they probably would have covered the distance to the library door. As it was, however, they had wrapped around the two of them in a cacoon of … well, eyebrow hair. The two of them exchanged a horrified look as they grasped what had happened.
The feast had only just begun. None of the staff would come looking for him, and the boys wouldn't come until the feast had ended – and would dawdle even then. They were stuck – on the floor, with eyebrow hair continually growing and wrapping around them – for at least three hours.
'This is not my day.'
"Miss Granger."
"Yes, sir?"
"Do you know what I want for Christmas?"
Hermione stared at him in bewilderment. "Uh, no sir. What?"
"I want…TO BLOODY MURDER YOU!"
After the initial jump of shock, Hermione grew thoughtful and muttered something under her breath that Severus didn't quite catch.
"What was that, Miss Granger?"
"I said, 'That's preferable to sitting on chest for three hours or more,' sir."
"Shut up, furball." He took an asinine pleasure in her indignant gasp.