Flight of the Stars

Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, blah blah blah.

o-0-o

Hermione arose early the next morning, fully intent on making a good impression. After donning her Slytherin robes (it still felt weird to wear the colors of her once-rival House), she was about to head out the door into the common room when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around to find that it was Cecily, with Oraia standing behind her.

"Morning," Hermione began uncertainly.

"Hermione," Oraia said patiently. "Are you seriously going to go out of the dormitory with your hair like that?"

"With my hair like what?"

"This!" Cecily gestured to the mane of hair that framed Hermione's soft face. "The frizz, Hermione. We need to fix it. Immediately."

"I think it's fine," she protested, as she was dragged towards the bathroom, one girl holding each arm.

They sat her down and started brushing it, but that only made it expand further.

"Merlin," Oraia muttered. "I didn't think it was possibly to have hair this big."

Cecily's eyes brightened. "Let's get Lucretia."

"Good idea, Cily," Oraia grinned. "Although I think you should be the one to wake her up, since you suggested it."

Cecily scowled but complied, and a few minutes later, she was dragging a sleepy and incredibly grumpy Lucretia Black into the now rather crowded bathroom.

"Merlin's beard," Lucretia growled, "if you dragged me in here for anything less than a catastrophic emergency, I swear I'll – Salazar!" the girl yelped as she caught sight of Hermione's hair for the first time.

Hermione grinned. "Does this qualify?"

"How did your hair even get like this?" Lucretia murmured, with something akin to awe. "Well, no matter, no matter. I'm a Black, Hermione, and I'll be hanged if I can't get your hair looking soft and silky in thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes, huh?" Hermione asked, rather impressed, as Lucretia finished brushing all of the tangles out, leaving an extremely bushy, albeit tangle-free mess.

"Thirty minutes," the blond said firmly, and, pulling out her wand, she began to murmur several charms that Hermione had never heard of.

"Oh, wait, Lucretia!" Oraia exclaimed. Lucretia turned toward her, looking rather cross, but Oraia handed her a blindfold that she must have transfigured, looking rather mischievous. "Put this on her. That way it'll be a surprise."

Lucretia smirked, and a couple of seconds later, Hermione was completely blindfolded, not knowing what they were doing to her hair, and still rather mistrustful. Were they going to straighten it? Merlin, if they did, she didn't know if she'd even recognize herself.

True to her word, thirty minutes later, Lucretia finally stopped muttering spells, but still didn't take the blindfold off. "What do you think, girls?"

There was complete silence, then Oraia murmured, "Merlin, Lucretia."

"You're a master," Cecily agreed.

"What did I tell you? I'm a Black," Lucretia said, rather arrogantly. "Are you ready, Hermione?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose," she muttered, and Lucretia untied the blindfold, and Hermione stared at her reflection in shock.

She hadn't straightened it, thank Merlin, but the bushy mess that had framed her face had been replaced with soft, gentle curls that stopped just below her shoulders. Now that her face wasn't swallowed by her mass of hair, she had an appearance of control, which harmonized well with her Slytherin uniform. In addition, the curls set off her eyes, which she had already been rather proud of, so that they appeared larger and darker. Hermione raised a hand to touch one of her brunette curls, and it felt smoother and softer than she had ever known her hair to feel.