Hair care, Friend groups, and Three headed dogs
Chapter 15: Hair care, Friend groups, and three headed dogs
Harry is in his dorm room alone. Blaise and Luna are by the lake taking their familiars out for some exercise and fresh air, Solace went with them too. Fred and George have disappeared to Merlin knows where.
He’s sitting on his bed waiting for Hermione, she’s gone to her dorm to get stuff to help him with his hair, she should be here any minute.
But right now, Harry is alone, and his mind keeps drifting back to his parents... His mum was going to be a healer. Her best subjects were charms and potions, just like him. His father was apparently a menace and a prankster, but one people loved? He wanted to be a professional quidditch player.
Harry doesn’t really know what to feel or think about everything he’s learnt; his parents have always been strangers to him, but now with the dreams and the things McGonagall told him, it’s like... he’s able to piece together a memory of them, a precious picture of what they used to be.
The problem with them no longer being strangers, is that it... hurts even more that they’re not here with him.
Harry has to (yet again) stop himself from breaking down into a puddle of stupid emotions. It’s honestly so pathetic, he doesn’t understand what has happened to his stupid brain in the last couple of months, but he feels as if he’s done nothing but cry since he found out about the Wixen world. It’s strange because he usually has an iron grip on his emotions and he’s pretty good at only breaking down when he’s alone (he had to be able to keep himself in check when he was staying with the Dursleys). He never shows people his tears.
But that’s all changed now. He full on sobbed in front of Blaise twice; the most recent time being this morning. Blaise probably thinks Harry’s pathetic (even if he doesn’t say it out loud). He cried in front of Luna on the train... but he doesn’t think Luna would ever think that he’s pathetic, but the shame of letting her see that still feels raw in his mind.
He does not want his friends to see him like that. He wishes he could just rip his tear ducts out, or make some sort of potion that would stop him from being so weak and pathetic; (what the hell is going to happen to him if he can't get control of himself before he goes back to privet drive???) but he can’t help it. It’s like his eyes are making up for all the times they couldn’t cry over the years, he doesn’t understand why, but he definitely doesn’t like it.
“Selena, do you think I’m weak?” He hisses quietly.
“Why do you ask such a question, Star?” Selena asks confused.
“It’s… I’ve been crying a lot.” He mumbles looking down at his hands.
“Snakes cannot cry but we know sadness. My Salzar was human like you and he too cried tears just like you do, and I know for certain that he was not weak. I do not think that any living thing could call you weak either. Weak people do not survive what you have.” She tells him in a soft yet factual tone.
Harry doesn’t quite believe her, despite the surety in her words. He does however, wonder about Salzar, he wishes he could meet him and find out why Selena holds him in such high regard. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Selena slides of the pillow she was coiled up on, and slithers over to him, settling on his lap and staring up at him.
“You are not weak, Star. You are a speaker, and you are capable of powerful magic. You are not weak.” She tells him firmly.
He’s saved from replying by the door to the dormitory opening. Hermione walks into the room arms laden with various bottles and tubs. “Sorry I took so long; I couldn’t decide what to bring.” She says as she drops the products onto Harry’s bed. Then she straightens up and surveys the room critically.
“We try to keep the dorm tidy, despite Fred not caring where he chucks his clothes and leaves his stuff.” Harry says, shrugging self-consciously.
“I can see. That’s good. I’ve always hated the idea that boys are incapable of doing basic household chores, it just re-enforces sexist ideologies.” She says with a huff.
“Yeah, it’s stupid. My uncle and cousin just get a free pass to lie around and do nothing, I don’t think they’ve done a single chore in their lives.”
Hermione looks at him sternly for a moment, as if she’s waiting for him to make fun of her. “You’re not making fun of me.” She states in slight surprise.
“No why would I?” He asks in confusion.
“Usually if I say things like that, people just laugh it off, or tell me I’m being dramatic.”
“I wouldn’t ever make fun of you Hermione. You're my friend, I listen to you. I respect you.” He tells her sincerely.
Hermione stares at him like he’s an alien from outer space. “You’re a good friend Harry.” She says after a few moments of silence.
Harry blushes at her words, he really is not used to hearing people say nice things about him. “Oh… um, thanks? I… you too?” He stutters awkwardly.
Hermione smirks at him, amused. “You’re terrible at taking complements, Harry.”
He sighs and flops dramatically back onto the bed. “Can we fix my hair now.” He groans covering his burning face with his hands.
She laughs, shaking her head at him fondly. “Come on you idiot, get up, and I’ll help you.”
Harry dislodges Selena from his lap and gets up from the bed. “What’s the game plan?”
“First we need to get your hair wet, and I’ll show you what to do from there.” She says as she pulls out her wand and levitates the tubs and bottles, she brought with her into the bathroom.
Harry follows her in, suddenly feeling oddly nervous. “Thanks for helping me with this Hermione, I… I really appreciate it.” He says quietly.
“It’s no problem, Harry, I don’t mind.” She replies, smiling. “Now come here put your head over the bath and get your hair wet.”
They have a fairly big bathroom, a sink with a mirror above it that opens to small shelves where they keep toothbrushes, a toilet in one corner of the room and a shower/bath in the other corner, there’s also a drying rack for towels.
He sets his glasses to one side and moves over to the bath to switch the shower head on, before flipping his head over the bath to start soaking his hair. “Now what do I do?” He asks once his hair his sopping wet and water is dripping in his eyes.
“Put this in your hair it’s conditioner.” She hands a blue bottle to him. “Curly hair is much easier to detangle when it’s wet and full of conditioner.” She tells him as she sits down on the edge of the bathtub watching him. “Do you usually brush your hair when it’s dry?” She asks thoughtfully.
“Err…yes? Is that…bad?” He asks uncertainly, as he opens the bottle and starts raking conditioner through his hair.
“That’s why your hair is always so frizzy, and why the curls don’t look defined and shiny like mine do. Curly hair doesn’t do well being styled or detangled dry.” She tells him. “If you do it like this instead, then it will probably end up looking similar to how your dad's hair was in that picture.”
He really wishes he’d known this sooner; it would have saved him from a lot of pain and a gazillion bad hair days.”Oh. I didn’t know that.” He says dumbly.
He sees a sympathetic look cross Hermione’s face, out of the corner of his eye. “At least you know now.”
He nods, and finishes putting the conditioner in his hair. Once his head is lathered in the stuff and his back is starting to hurt from bending over the bath, he asks, “Should I use a brush? Or just my fingers to get the knots out?”
“You can do a bit of both, that’s what I do anyway. Use a brush like this.” She hands him a purple hairbrush with thin flexible bristles. “It’s called a wet brush. I find it’s the best type of brush to use for curly hair. Just run it through until there’s no tangles.”
Harry does what Hermione says, and runs the brush through is Hair until it stops catching on Knots. “I think it’s good now. What’s next?”
“Rinse the conditioner out, make sure it’s all gone.”
He switches the shower head on again. As the warm water pours onto his head, he finds himself wondering if his dad would have shown him how to do this if he wasn’t dead. “Done.” He says, when he’s sure it’s all rinsed out.
“I’m going to wrap a towel around your shoulders so your clothes don’t get wet, then you can stand up and I’ll show you how to style it.”
He hears her footsteps cross the bathroom floor towards the towel rack in the corner, then feels her place the towel on his shoulders, so he straightens up. “Ahh, Jesus Christ my back.” He groans.
Hermione scoffs at him. “What are you, eighty?”
Harry scowls at her. “I’m eleven. And it feels like someone stomped on my back.”
“Maybe you just have a really weak spine.” She shakes her head in amusement, patting his shoulder in mock sympathy, before continuing with the task at hand, “Now that your hair is dripping wet and detangled, we can put in the products that help hold and form the curls.” She tells him. “Stand in front of the mirror it will be easier if you can see what you’re doing.” He moves over to the mirror; Hermione stands behind him. “First, we use curl cream, it helps define your curls. Hold your hand out.”
Harry holds his hand out palm facing up, and she picks up a purple bottle and squeezes some into his hand. “Do I just put it all over?” He questions.
“Yes, scrub your hands together so the cream is on both hands, then evenly spread it all through your hair.” She says with a nod.
He does what she says and rakes the cream through his hair. “Done.”
“Ok now for the fun part.” She tells him with a smile on her face. “Scrunching!”
“Scrunching?” Harry asks curiously.
“This is where you get to see your curls form properly. We use a hair mousse, and scrunch it into your hair from the ends to the roots. Give me your hand again.” She orders.
She takes out a mettle bottle and shakes it a few times, then squeezes a thick foam onto his hand. “This is what gives you volume.”
He starts scrunching the foam into his hair, it makes a satisfying squelch whenever he scrunches it. Once he’s done, he looks up into the mirror, “Oh.” He says softly. His hair is still wet, but his curls for the first time ever, look pretty. He takes a deep breath, and swallows down his emotions.
He looks at Hermione in the reflection, she’s looking at him with a soft smile on her face. “Now we add gel.” She picks up a tub unscrews the lid and hold it out to him. “Take a small amount in your hands, flip your head upside down again, and scrunch it in.”
“What does it do?” He scoops a little bit into his hands and puts it in his hair, like Hermione said.
“Gel helps your hair hold the curls for longer.” She says as she twists the lid back on.
He flips his head back up, to look at his friend. “Are we done now?”
“Almost. Now we use a diffuser.”
“What's a diffuser?” He asks blankly.
“It’s a hair dryer for curly hair.” She shrugs. “Muggle inventions that use electricity don’t usually function in Hogwarts, but one of the older Ravenclaw students taught me a spell that makes muggle objects work here.” She picks up a strange hairdryer that has a circular disk on the end. “Flip your head upside down again and I’ll dry it for you.”
He does what Hermione says, and stands there very still as she slowly dries his hair with the diffuser, gathering the curls in the disk and smooshing them close to his head. “Ok stand up straight.” She orders.
Harry straightens up. “Was that the last step?”
“Nope. Two more steps and then we’re done. Once the gel dries it leaves a cast in your hair, you need to scrunch it out, so your curls aren’t crunchy, then we put an oil in to soften the curls.
He scrunches his hair until the gel cast is gone and then adds the hair oil. “Curly hair takes a lot of work.” He complains.
“Yes, it does. But it’s worth it, look in the mirror.” She says fondly.
He reaches for his glasses, pushing them onto his nose, as he turns towards the bathroom mirror and stares at his reflection with wide eyes. His hair has no frizz, each curl his defined, his hair has volume and it’s soft and shiny. It looks exactly the same as his dad's hair in the picture. It’s beautiful... His hair looks beautiful. He can’t help the tears that spring into his eyes as he tilts his head staring at his hair in awe. Then he turns to Hermione and does something he has never done before; he initiates a hug.
Luna has hugged him a lot in the past few weeks but Harry has never been the one who started the hug. But he doesn’t know how else to thank Hermione for what she’s done for him. “Thank you, Hermione, thank you so much.” He mumbles into her shoulder. Then he pulls away.
Hermione is smiling at him gently, a tender expression on her face. “Your welcome Harry.”
He wipes harshly at his eyes, trying in vain to get rid of the tears. Harry doesn’t know why he’s crying, but now he has to add Hermione onto the steadily growing list of people he’s cried in front of.
“I’ll leave you these products, I already have plenty for myself back in my dorm, and you can keep the diffuser as well it’s my spare one.” She pauses for a moment. “Oh, and I can give you a bonnet or a silk scarf, it will protect your hair when you sleep.”
He nods at her in gratitude, there are no words good enough in the English language to explain to Hermione just how much he appreciates her.
“Come on let’s go find the others.” She suggests softly, thankfully not commenting on his stupid crying eyes.
Harry nods again and follows her out the dorm.
~~~
They walk through Hogwarts and out towards the black lake. Luna and Blaise are standing near the shore, Solace is perched on Luna’s head and panda her squirrel is sitting on her shoulder. Freya is running around like a maniac.
“Hello Harry, your Hair looks lovely.” Luna says with a smile.
“I have to agree with Luna, you look magnifico.” Blaise declares without his usual sarcasm.
Hermione stares at Blaise. “Why did you just speak that last word in Italian?” She asks curiously.
Blaise rolls his eyes, “I am Italian, my first language was Italian, I speak it fluently.”
“Huh, I didn’t know that, cool.” Harry says.
Before anyone can say anything else the twins come running towards them. Both of them out of breath and panting heavily. “Harry, you know how you said you got a bad feeling about Quirrell?” Harry told Blaise about his suspicions of Quirrell, and they decided to tell the others, thinking it would be easier if they all new to be wary of the potentially evil professor. “And Luna agreed and said his vibes were off, well we decided to follow him and… well, we’ll just show you.” Fred rambles.
“Come on! Let’s go!” George exclaims bouncing on his heels in his haste.
They all look at the twins, and then at each other, Harry shrugs, Luna stares at them with unblinking eyes, Blaise rolls his eyes, and Hermione sighs in exasperation.
“Fine. Fred and George please try not to kill us or worse get us expelled.” Hermione says narrowing her eyes at both of the red heads.
The twins nod hastily then start running back into the castle, gesturing wildly for the rest of them to follow.
Fred and George sprint through the corridors, Harry right behind them, he’s used to running thanks to Dudley’s favourite game (Harry hunting). Luna is skipping along in her usual care free manner at a surprising speed, Hermione is running close to Harry, and Blaise is barely keeping up.
“For Merlin's sake! Slow down.” Blaise wheezes, while Freya bounds along happily at his heels.
“Nope! We gotta go fast, keep up!” Fred shouts over his shoulder.
“I did not agree to sprint through a castle this early in the morning!” He complains through his wheezing.
“Blaise for Christs sake it’s one in the afternoon.” Harry says loudly, still running after the twins.
“You can skip Blaise it’s easier.” Luna says, not sounding tired in the slightest.
“Skip!? I will not skip! Why don’t we walk like normal people.” Blaise says indignantly. Clutching at a stitch in his side as he tries to keep up.
“We’re here!” George declares, the mad sprint through Hogwarts ends on the third-floor corridor, near a door that looks like it leads to an unused classroom.
Blaise doubles over, hands on his knees panting heavily. "I hate you all. Every single one of you.”
“No, you don’t, we’re your friends. If you hated us, you would have left already. You’re just mad because we’re faster than you.” Luna states, looking at the amber eyed boy fondly.
“It’s not my fault you have the stamina of dragons.” Blaise grumbles.
“Fred. George. What did I say before I ran after you?” Hermione asks the twins, her voice falsely calm.
“Umm… you asked us not to kill you or get you expelled?” George says.
“Well done, George, that’s correct ten points to Slytherin!” She claps her hands sarcastically. “So! Please tell me why you brought us to a corridor that the headmaster said leads to gruesome death.” She grits out through a smile that suggests she’s secretly a serial killer.
“Yeah, I would like to know the answer to that too. I did not plan on dying today.” Harry says looking between the pair of red-heads. He thinks he wouldn’t mind death, not really. He knows there are worse things out there, Vernon for one, Voldemort for two. But it would be a shame to leave his friends, he was hoping to at least make it to the end of the school year.
“You made me run… to my death.” Blaise says slowly.
“I’m sure they didn’t.” Luna says, faithfully.
“Like I said earlier - we followed Quirrell. He came here and… look.” Fred opens the door behind him. It’s a large room with stone walls and flooring no furniture or portraits, however there is one thing that stands out... a three headed dog the size of a lorry, snoring and fast asleep on the floor.
“That’s a dog. It has three heads.” Harry says flatly.
“Really? I thought it was a fire breathing donkey!” Blaise says with mock incredulity.
“That is a fully grown Cerberus, in an unlocked room accessible to anyone, in a school full of children.” Hermione states, staring at the three headed dog with steadily dawning horror.
“Oh. You are trying to kill us.” Luna states softly, staring at the twins unblinking, her head tilted to the side like an owl, as if she finds that fact intriguing rather than concerning. Solace flies off from Luna’s hair and lands on George’s head and begins pecking at the boy’s forehead.
“Ow, ow OW!” George says, his voice echoing loudly through the corridor. Fred claps a hand to George’s mouth in a pathetic attempt to shut his brother up, but it's too late.
The dog opens its eyes, stares at the nine tasty snacks that have conveniently walked within reach of its many, many, razor-sharp teeth, and lunges for the door.
Luckily for his friends Harry has developed quick reflexes from a life with the Dursleys. He dives for the door and slams it shut before any of them get front seat views to the inside of a Cerberus’s stomach.
“Jesus flipping Christ!” He exclaims.
“Oh no, please Harry, open the door, put me out of my misery!” Blaise’s says, his voice several octaves higher than usual.
Hermione rounds on the twins, “Why did you have to show us that?! Couldn’t you have just said - Hi guys, we found a deadly dog in a forbidden corridor, thought we’d save you the experience and just tell you using our words!” Hermione yells.
“Merlin and Morgana! Calm down you lot. We thought it would be easier to show you!” Fred says with his hands raised in a placating gesture.
“Actually Fred… Hermione has a point. We could have just told them.” George says sheepishly.
“Georgie! Your supposed to back me up, not stab me in the back!” Fred exclaims dramatically.
“Fred where you dropped on your head as a child?” Blaise asks mockingly.
“Everyone be quiet!” Luna’s slightly raised voice snaps them all to attention. The five of them all turn to look at her in surprise. “George tell us exactly what happened. The rest of you no sarcastic comments and keep your mouths closed, please.” She orders, in a way that is not typical at all for Luna.
George looks at her shocked for a moment and then starts speaking hurriedly. “Me and Freddie were heading down to lunch hoping to find you lot, then we saw Quirrell looking shifty, he was walking out of the great hall, so we followed him. He ended up here, he was running his wand over the door as if he was checking for wards or something, then he entered the room but almost immediately ran out because that dog was trying to kill him. Me and Fred hid in that broom cupboard-” he points to a door down the corridor “-until he was gone then we opened the door and noticed the dog is protecting a trap door. Then we shut the door and ran to find you, and… here we are.” He finishes the story with a sigh.
“Ok so… the dog is guarding something.” Harry says slowly.
“Quirrell wants to steal it.” Luna adds thoughtfully.
“And Dumbledore has placed a Cerberus in a school full of children who never do what they’re told, and has hired a dodgy thieving man to teach us?” Hermione says in disbelief.
“I bet his whole stuttering I’m scared of my own shadow thing, is just an act. I think he’s doing it to make himself seem more innocent.” Harry mused. “And why didn’t Dumbledore at least put wards on the door?”
“I don’t know. It’s all very strange.” George frowns.
“It’s almost like Dumbledore wants whatever is there to be stolen.” Fred says.
“No wards on the door, hiring a suspicious teacher, keeping whatever is under the trapdoor in a school where anyone could access it, declaring the exact location at the feast. I hate to agree with Fred, but… he’s right.” Blaise says.
“Can we promise not to ever come back here? I’d rather none of us get brutally slaughtered by a dog in our first year at Hogwarts.” Hermione says. “Whatever the headmaster is doing is not our problem.”
“Yeah, I agree with Hermione, I want nothing to do with Dumbledore, or that dog.” Harry says firmly.
“I am more than happy, to not become a chew toy for a Cerberus.” Blaise says drily.
“Fine with me.” George says.
“But isn’t it our duty to stop Quirrell now we know he’s up to no good?” Fred asks earnestly.
“We are eleven-year-olds, not super heroes.” Hermione tells Fred with a sigh.
“But, we can’t-” Fred is quickly interrupted.
“Leave it Freddie, it’s not our problem.” George tells his brother. A strange look passes between the twins, harry can’t decipher it, but he has a feeling that neither of the red heads are going to leave the room alone.
Fred sighs dramatically, “you lot are no fun.”
“Everyone promises not to come back here?” Hermione prompts.
Luna who has been silent for the whole conversation, speaks up her voice eerily calm, “It cannot be avoided. Destiny is set. The trapdoor shall be opened.”
Her voice sends ripples of magic through the air, he can feel the power of it prickling his skin. He wonders for a moment if everyone can feel magic like he can. If its normal to know that it twirls and dances through the air, unseen and yet... so very beautiful.
He shakes the thought away and thinks of Luna’s words that are clearly some sort of prophecy. He doesn’t even want to think about what that could mean. Will they end up back in that room no matter what? He hopes to Merlin that Luna’s words are wrong or that they were meant for someone or something else.
He suddenly realizes his friends are all staring at Luna curiously, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts he forgot Luna hasn’t told the others about her seeing abilities. Now she just told the future Infront of them. He needs to move their attention away from Luna and hopefully his other friends won’t actually realize what she did.
“Okay! We promise, right everyone?” He calmly steps Infront of Luna, blocking her from their line of sight. “Let’s go down to dinner?”
They agree, and thankfully seem to dismiss Luna’s strange words.
They head towards the great hall as a group, Harry walks with Luna behind the others. “Thank you, Harry.” His best friend whispers softly, and takes his hand.
“I promised to keep your secret. You don’t need to thank me.” He replies in a hushed voice, smiling at her.
“What did I say? I don’t remember.” She frowns, looking down at their joint hands.
He sighs softly. “It cannot be avoided. Destiny is set. The trapdoor shall be opened.” Luna’s frown deepens. “Don’t worry about it Luna. Maybe you were talking about something else.”
“Maybe.” She doesn’t sound very convinced. She shakes her head and looks up at him. “Sometimes I don’t like my gift very much, sometimes it feels more like a curse.”
He imagines it would be terrifying to know the horrors of what the future might bring. He is struck with utter respect and awe for his best friend, for all the weight she must carry in her heart every day and yet she still smiles brightly and offers comfort to anyone who needs it.
He abruptly stops walking, and for the second time that day he initiates a hug. He wraps his arms around Luna tightly. “I’m sorry Luna, I wish I could help.”
Luna exhales softly, and sinks into the hug. “This helps.”
They stay like that for a while, Harry doesn’t let go until he hears George call for them from far down the corridor.