Hairy Prophesies

Hairy Prophesies

Rice

"It's your hair Harry," Dumbledore said with a resigned sigh.

"What? My what?" Harry stood in front of Dumbledore's great desk and looked decidedly... confused.

"Your hair. The prophecy. The only thing standing between Voldemort and the complete overtake of the Wizarding World," Dumbledore continued.

Harry gaped.

"Well you don't think you did all that on your own, do you? Didn't you ever wonder why Voldemort aimed so high on your head when you were a child? Why not at your heart?" Dumbledore moved forward on his chair, steepling his hands. "That black mop, in its untameable nature, is the most powerful magical being ever known to wizard kind... and it resides on your head."

Harry took a few steps back. He was kidding, right?

"So all this time, it wasn't me?" Harry started to get angry. "I faced Voldemort all these times and it was my hair that had the victories?!"

Dumbledore looked sadly at him. "That scar proves it Harry. The power of your 'hair' deflected Voldemort's curse, that's why the scar comes down from your hairline. You know it makes sense, my boy. I wish I could have told you earlier but that may have crushed you. You personally have little more magic than a squib."

Snape, who had been standing behind Harry, snickered in satisfaction.

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt an anger rising within him.

"No way!" he started, "I'm the greatest wizard! I faced Voldemort time and time again while you stood back and watched!" He pointed dramatically at himself as he continued. "Me! ALL ME!"

With that he trashed Dumbledore's desk and stormed out of the room.

Dumbledore sighed again.

"Alas!" he exclaimed and looked up at Snape. The twinkle in his eye had completely faded away.

"Don't worry Dumbly," Snape said coaxing over to Dumbledore. "Here, let me comfort you..."

* * *

Harry trudged off to his room, grunting dismissively at Ron and giving a few first-years death stares as he past them on the stairs. He heard someone remark how much he had changed from first-year, when he was a nice sweet boy... He slammed the door shut and flopped down onto his bed.

In his rage he had forgotten about the affect the past few days would be having on his body. He fell fast asleep as its weight began to bear down on him, his dreams capturing him...

~

[The Boy Who Was Saved By Hair]

Harry opened his eyes and found himself in a cot. He looked around. He was in some sort of room. His room. His room from when he was a baby. He looked up. His mother was screaming. His father was already on the floor. Who was she screaming at? Her figure fell and Voldemort came into view. Harry's eyes opened wide. Voldemort raised his wand and suddenly Harry could feel a strange pulsating feeling on top of his head.

His hair, in its infant stages was only small, standing up on edge, curling around, defensively, against the sight of Voldemort's wand. Harry was again, decidedly confused. He had never dreamt of it this way. Voldemort said the unspeakable words and a brilliant light flashed around them. Harry felt he was lifting. He saw himself, in his baby form, the hair around his real-self's head was twisting around, growing, filling the room. The curse hit the hair in full force, a strange glow emanated off it and the green curse deflected and hit Voldemort square in the chest. Voldemort twisted over and a strange vapour rose from his body.

Harry could faintly hear a voice cursing, repeating the words,

"I'll get you for this young Potter! You and your cursed hair!"

~

Harry awoke with a start, sweating. His scar was throbbing and he felt a strange weight on his head. A small foot suddenly came into focus, dangling over his forehead.

"Argh! Hair Master! Your Dobby is a naughty elf!" a voice said from above.

Harry screamed and flung Dobby off his head. Dobby landed in a pile of dirty laundry, quickly grabbing near by boxers and struggling into them.

"What the hell were you doing?!" Harry roared.

"Sorry Harry Potter. Dobby could do nothing, sir. The hair cannot be resisted. It was calling Dobby. Whispering, Dobby, comfort, perfect little Dobby. Swaying like that, sir, black silk feeling, its... untameable mass..." Dobby's eyes grew wide and he started to edge towards Harry.

Harry backed away, grabbing his Quidditch broom and swatting Dobby until he ran out of the room shrieking something about the best feeling in his house elf years.

Harry sighed and sagged against his bedpost. His hair seemed to flop down in a contented manner. He almost cried.

* * *

The Great Hall was practically full by the time Harry had thoroughly washed his hair and headed down to breakfast. He walked in through the double doors and went to the far end of the table, sitting down to have something to eat.

"Potter!" a sharp voice said behind him.

Harry held his head in his hands for a moment, then turned around to face a very flustered looking Draco Malfoy.

"You weren't there for our traditional snogging session this morning! Explain yourself Potter!" Draco's eyes narrowed.

Harry couldn't help but sigh at the one sane thing in his life, his relationship with Malfoy. Thinking back on that sentence Harry furrowed his eyebrows and concluded that his life could not get any more messed up. He stood up.

"I couldn't. Dobby... he kept me a bit preoccupied," Harry tried to explain.

Draco gave him a look of disgust. "A house elf, Harry, really? I know you're into that weird stuff... but a house elf? Isn't that going a bit too far? You know I'd dress up for you if you wanted..."

Harry just stared at Draco, what could you possibly say to that. Presently Malfoy got bored of this, grabbing Harry by the collar and proceeded to kiss him full on the lips.

Ron groaned. "I wish they'd stop doing that."

He pushed his plate away and turned to Hermione who was riveted in watching Harry and Draco sprawled all over the breakfast table.

"You're all bonkers," Ron exclaimed.

Draco moved his hands into Harry's hair and suddenly gave a little squeak, pulling his lips off Harry's.

"Argh! My hand!" Draco tried to yank his hand free and only furthered its entanglement. "Merlin! Potter! What's up with your hair?! Didn't you use that conditioner I gave you?!"

Draco was trying desperately to free his hand, causing Harry's head to be pulled back and forth repeatedly. Harry had no idea what was wrong, 'it' had never done that before.

"Harry?!!"

The hair had begun to creep up Draco's arm, tearing away his sleeve. There was a unified gasp as the entire Great Hall could see what the hair was heading for. On Draco's upper arm was a blazing Dark Mark.

Harry, who was unfortunately unable to see what was happening as his hair kept his head down, started struggling.

"What's going on?" he asked, trying to twist around and crane his neck. "Damn it hair, let go of him for a second would you."

To his surprise his hair unwound and settled for an upright defensive stance. Hermione tried to suppress a laugh as it reminded her of the Karate Kid's Crane position.

"Draco!" Harry looked shocked and saddened. He moved closer to Draco and grabbed his arm. Lowering his voice, he continued, "I thought we went over this! You know how I feel about this Dark Arts stuff. I don't want to have to kill you!"

At this point Snape interjected. "Ah, Potter, it isn't you who will be doing the killing. Remember? It's your hair." He turned to the rest of the hall. "Do you hear that? Young Potter is nothing but a half-bred wizard. His hair has more power than he ever could!" With that he broke into a frenzy of giggle like laughter, he hadn't been this happy since that incident with Lucius, his cane and a house-elf.

The entire hall turned to gape at Harry.

"What?" he said, shrugging his shoulders.

At this point Dumbledore glided into the Great Hall.

"Harry, you and your hair are needed outside," he said, perfectly calm. "It seems Voldemort and his minions have breeched the school."

* * *

Dumbledore led Harry outside, out of view of the rest of the students. He presently broke down.

"By my beard! It's all going to hell!" Dumbledore yelled and grabbed Harry, using him as a human shield.

Snape burst through the doors. "It's ok Dumbly! Now that Potter here is fully matured his hair has enough power to finally defeat Voldemort!"

At this point Voldemort came into view from behind one of the nearby bushes, two cloaked figures jumping out behind him as well.

"Ha! Ha! Potter! Now I've got you!" Voldemort cried, brandishing his wand in Harry's face.

Harry's hair was quick to react. It shot out in two different directions, enveloping the Death Eaters on either side of Voldemort.

The students had wandered out by now and were presented with the most unusual sight in their little wizard or witch lives.

Harry was bent over in a head-butting position, his hair streaming out. They could hear muffled cries of the Death Eaters within. The mass of hair made some chomping sounds before spitting out a long black cane.

Draco started at this and ran out from the crowd of students. He grabbed the cane.

"No!" he screamed. "Father!"

With that he jumped head first into the collection of hair. Disappearing.

The students shrugged. No big loss they figured.

The hair began to encircle Voldemort who had conveniently stood back watching this all unfold. He now realised the hair was completely encompassing him.

He screamed a well-developed and researched curse at this point. "Caesaries Aboleo!"

A great flash of red shot out from within the powerful circle of hair. Immediately a blue light emanated off the hair, enveloping the red, bearing down on Voldemort. With one last explosion the figure of Voldemort shot out from within the mass and fell to the ground a few feet away in a shriveled mass.

The crowd cheered! Harry fell to the ground. The crowd gasped.

Hermione and Ron rushed to Harry's side and tried lifting Harry up. His hair was just too heavy at this point. It seems it was lifeless again, but now a dead weight.

Harry groaned from under his hair.

"I think we're going to have to shave it off," Hermione said as she looked up at Dumbledore.

Snape's eyes gleamed. "I'll get the shears!"