How to impress Harry. How to impress Harry. Those were the only thoughts that filled Hermione’s head. How could she though?
“Hermione!” her mother was outside her bedroom.
“Yes?” Hermione called sleepily.
“I’m going to town to have my hair cut and styled. Dad’s working in the dentist surgery, OK?” Mrs. Granger called.
A haircut! A new hairstyle! Perfect! That would definitely make Harry fall in love with her!
“Hang on a tick, Mum! I’m coming with you!”
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“Hermione?” Harry called, half an hour later, “Are you in there?”
He was standing outside Hermione’s bedroom door. He had hoped to go for a swim in Hermione’s luxurious pool with Hermione. She wasn’t answering him. Harry wondered if she was asleep.
Quietly, he opened the door. She wasn’t in there. On her bed, there was a note. It said:
Harry, I’ve gone to town with my mum. My dad is in the surgery. Make yourself some toast for breakfast!
Harry wondered if the kissing session that they had had last night had distressed Hermione. After all, she did say she only wanted to be friends with him.
Harry suddenly noticed Hedwig outside Hermione’s bedroom window. He opened it, and Hedwig dropped a letter on the floor. He picked it up. It was from Cho:
Hi Harry!
I am so sorry that you couldn’t come round and spend the rest of the holidays with me. I wonder who you’re with at the moment! Hope it’s not Hermione (joke)! So, how are you at the moment? I’m pretty good, and especially happy that you’re writing to me and that you’re giving me another chance. There is more to me than what you saw last year, I promise you. I am not a complete airhead!
From Cho
Harry rushed into his room and quickly scribbled a reply to Cho’s letter. He felt a gush of happiness at the thought of Cho making the effort to write to him.
He placed Cho’s letter on his bedside table and stroked it lovingly then, decided to get himself some breakfast. Toast, like Hermione suggested.
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“That style please,” said Hermione politely to the hairdresser. She nodded.
Hermione hugged herself. What a brilliant idea! Harry would be sure to notice her now!
Mrs. Granger beamed at her daughter’s choice. Hermione had never been much of a girly girl like she had wanted and now she was!
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Harry was incredibly bored. He went up to his bedroom, searched around in his wardrobe and found a pair of shorts. He put them on, took off everything else that he was wearing, grabbed a towel from Hermione’s bathroom and made his way down to her pool.
When he got there, he saw it was covered up with a long mat. He summoned all his strength and moved the mat off the pool.
He didn’t notice that it glistened and shone bluer than any normal pool would. He was too wrapped up in thoughts about his relationship with Hermione...
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Hermione was sick of all this hair washing. Why couldn’t the hairdresser just get down to the nitty gritty of styling and dying her hair?
Then another thought struck her; a better one. The hairdresser must be taking her time to make her hair extra perfect. If her hair was perfect, Harry would probably like her just that little bit more!
Good, the hairdresser was now rubbing in the hair dye. She, Hermione, prepared herself for a totally new look.
She was too wrapped in thoughts about impressing Harry to notice what colour hair dye the hairdresser was rubbing in to her hair...
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There was a loud splash as Harry dove into the swimming pool.
He surfaced, gasping for breath. He climbed out of the pool and looked down at his body,
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHH!!!”
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“Want to see your new hair colour?” smiled the hairdresser.
“Of course!” cried Hermione.
She withdrew the towel from her hair and looked at herself in the mirror,
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGHHH!!!”
T
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he Grangers had obviously poured some kind of cleaning liquid into the swimming pool “ some kind of cleaning liquid that turned his entire body a dark blue.
What on earth was Hermione going to think now? She’d probably get the idea that he was some kind of alien. No one except aliens have blue skin.
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“My hair!” Hermione gasped.
Her hair had turned a dark purple.
She burst into tears. What on earth would Harry think now? He would notice her alright - and get the idea that she was a weirdo!
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How are you going to get yourself out of this mess, Potter? Harry asked himself.
He got out of the pool and dried himself off. His blue skin stayed. He rushed up to his bedroom and began to pick at his skin, in the hope that he might be able to pull the blue off. It hurt and nothing happened.
What would Hermione say? She’d never love him now.
But why did he care whether Hermione loved him or not?
He only saw Hermione as a friend “ didn’t he? Anyway, he had Cho. Goodness. What would Cho think? Hopefully she wouldn't mind too much. Strangely enough, he was more worried about what Hermione would think than Cho. But why? Comparing Cho to Hermione was like comparing a golden trumpet to a tin whistle.