Draco Malfoy and the Bad Hair Day

Draco Malfoy had a problem. It was slowly eating him from the inside out, making him miserable.

Yes my friends, Draco Malfoy was suffering from hair envy.

And he hated it.

Every day he would go to breakfast and stare at Potter's perfect hair. In the hallway, Potter would pass him, smirking and running his hands through his wondrous hair. It just wasn't fair.

Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who's-Name-Was-Often-Hyphenated, had beautiful hair. It was raven black, midnight black even. His emerald eyes set off the color perfectly. It was stylishly messy; the kind of hair that implies the owner had just rolled out of a silk-sheeted bed. His hair just screamed, "Snog me!"

Draco Malfoy had less perfect hair. And as far as he was concerned, that was a sin.

It was just wrong. He spent hours on it, using magic and the most expensive conditioner money can buy. And yet, he was just regarded as another pretty blonde.

So, Draco Malfoy came up with a plan.

An ingenious plan.

An un-stoppable plan.

Yes, this was going to work.

Hopefully.

First he had to make sure Harry's raven locks were not just an accident.

Phase One began in Transfiguration.

***********************************************

In the middle of McGonagall's lesson about changing water dishes into teakettles, Draco carried out Phase One.

He whipped out a wand and sent a whispered spell over to Longbottom's kettle. It started whistling loudly and everyone backed away quickly.

With a shriek, it exploded. Hot water went everywhere.

Professor McGonagall quickly ran over to Neville, and upon seeing his burns, shooed him out the door to the hospital wing.

As soon as they were out of hearing range Draco loudly drawled, "Stupid git, he splashed water all over my hair. Honestly, I swear he must be at least part Muggle."

"Nobody cares about your stupid hair Malfoy!" Harry shouted, drawing his wand. "And what's so bad about Muggles?"

Ignoring the Muggle question, Draco snarkily drawled, "Well at least I care about my hair enough to actually brush it."

Ignoring the Slytherins' smirks, Harry muttered, blushing, "I do brush my hair."

Draco nodded, just as he suspected. Soon perfect hair would be his!

***********************************************

Phase Two involved catching Potter alone.

Several days later the opportunity came. Granger and the Weasel were going to Hogsmeade and Potter decided to stay at Hogwarts. Potter was alone.

Draco carefully crept ahead of him into an abandoned classroom. When Harry walked by, he jumped out and prepared to unleash his evil plan.

Holding out a tray of cookies, he pleasantly asked, "Cookie, Potter?"

At first Harry looked surprised and Draco could of have sworn he muttered something about only if it had Oliver and Kilts in it, but he then carefully reached for one.

"Chocolate?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course. Is there any other kind worth baking?" Draco scoffed.

"Right-O," Harry muttered and took a bite. Then he blinked and said, "Wait, did I just take a cookie from my arch-nemesis without even questioning what was in it?"

Draco nodded and smiled pleasantly. "Absolutely right."

Harry sighed and muttered, "Let me guess, you poi-" and with that, he collapsed on the floor.

Draco cackled, Operation Hair was underway!

***********************************************

A few hours later Harry awoke and was suddenly aware of a bright light shining in his face.

"What the..." he muttered, and then released a string of curses upon discovering that he was tied to a chair.

"So, you've awoken, have you," said a voice belonging to someone in the shadows.

Trying not to laugh at Draco's attempt to sound spooky, Harry muttered, "No, I'm still asleep."

"Okay then - Wait! You are awake!"

"No kidding. Where am I?"

Draco smiled maliciously and said, "Try to guess."

Harry looked around at his surroundings and realized exactly where he was.

"Why am I in the bathtub of the prefect's bathroom?" Harry asked.

Draco cackled maliciously and said, "I'll tell you. But first, I need your help."

Harry sighed and said, "Couldn't you of have just asked me instead of kidnapping me and putting me in a bathtub?"

Draco pouted and said, "Good point. But anyway," and with this he swung a lamp so it shined on Harry's face like in the old cop movies, "How do you do your hair?"

Harry blinked.

"I don't."

Draco's eyes widened and he screeched, "What!"

Harry winced at the echo and replied, "I don't. Really! I wake up in the morning and just quickly run a comb through it. That's all."

Draco sank to the floor, sobbing, "Nooo... I've been mislead all this time!"

Harry sighed and quickly undid the buckle of the belt that restrained him to the chair. He climbed down and awkwardly patted Draco on the back.

"There, there now. Calm down."

As Draco sniffed Harry was suddenly hit by a thought. "And here I was thinking that only gay men cried," he murmured under his breath.

Draco blushed and said, "Straight men cry too, Harry." He then smirked and added, "But I'm not straight."

Harry gasped, then nodded. "Me neither. And since when am I Harry?"

When there was no answer he poked Draco, not noticing the fiendish gleam in his eye."

"Draco?"

Draco grinned, if he couldn't have Harry's hair, he could have the next best thing. Harry himself.

And with that thought, Draco launched himself at the bewildered boy in front of him.

Needless to say, he was received very well.

After all, black hair and blonde set off each other so nicely.