Doing it Right

Hermione Granger, seventeen years old, and preparing to begin her seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stared at herself in the mirror.

Her hair had grown past her shoulders. It was a medium brown color, with few highlights. It was frizzy and hardly easy to manage. Her bangs fell just above her eyebrows, and they were crooked. She frowned.

"Mum!" she called out.

"What is it?" her mother answered, her voice carrying up from the kitchen.

"Can you lend me a couple pounds?" Hermione continued through the door.

"What for?" her mother asked, her voice growing closer as she replied.

"I want to get my -" her mother pushed open the door to look at her. "My hair cut," Hermione finished off.

Her mother frowned at her. "Honey, your hair looks fine the way it is," she said, moving to stand next to her and smooth out the split ends. "Why do you want it cut?"

She shrugged. "Just want something new for school I guess."

Mrs. Granger sighed and looked over her daughter's head and into the mirror. "I suppose you could use something different." She eventually answered, causing Hermione's frown to morph into a smile. "I'll get you a few pounds."

Her mother started out the room to find her purse, but she paused just inside the door. "Go down the block to A Cut Above, would you love? The stylist there is amazing."

Hermione kept smiling at her mother. "Thanks Mum."

***

Hermione pushed open the door, letting out a jingle as she walked through. She found no empty chairs, nor any free stylists, so she took a seat along the wall to wait. She looked around. Above the front counter was a picture of four people holding some sort of trophy, and the man in the middle looked oddly familiar. Hermione scrunched up her nose.

She noticed an older woman under one of those hair drying things, and a blonde stylist was busy with a brunette, her comb in between her teeth as she struggled with the scissors. A boy just a few years older than Hermione herself was working on an older gentleman, trimming his beard.

Just then, a tall man strode from the back room, and Hermione practically gasped at the sight of him. His hair was lighter, and shorter, and his face was nowhere near as pale. He was wearing all black, but not the normal robes Hermione usually saw him in. It was decidedly strange, as the man in front of her was undoubtedly her school's Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape.

"Hermione Granger?" he raised an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms over his chest to scrutinize her.

"Professor Snape?" she wondered, surprise written on her face.

"Excuse me?" he frowned at her. "My name's Phil Allen. I used to cut your hair when you were just a wee thing."

Her jaw closed once again. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've mistaken you for someone else."

He shrugged as he led her to the nearest sink. "It's not a problem. Now tell me Miss Granger, what is it you want done today?"

She looked up into the eyes of her hairdresser and shuddered. The resemblance was unbelievable. "Do with it what you want," she said confidently. "I want a new me."

"Now that is what we stylists like to hear."

Over one hour later, Hermione Granger looked at herself in the mirror and didn't recognizing herself. Phil had done wonders.

Her hair was cropped just below her chin. It was straight, sleek, and shiny. He had also highlighted it with golds, auburns, and some deep mahoganys. It was perfect. And she told him so.

"It's perfect."

He smiled at her, though the expression made his face look contorted a bit. "It's you."

"Thank you." Hermione finally said, marvelling at herself in the mirror.

She stood up and pressed her nine pounds fifty into Phil's hand, but he shook his head. "It's my pleasure."

Her eyes widened, and she smiled. "Thank you, very much," with an elated yelp, she grabbed her purse and practically flew out the door.

Her stylist wiped his hands dry on a towel. The young man who had been trimming a beard put his hand on his shoulder. "Dad, you shouldn't mess with them like that," he said, chuckling.

He blushed slightly at the comment and looked over at his ex-wife who was busy with a coloring. "Really Severus, you are truly evil."

The Potions Master sneered. "I know. I know."

The End