Hair (Romione, George, Hinny)
I blame @blvnk-art for this fic. I was thinking on it this morning, especially Hermione deciding to shave her head and my muse smiled on me, threw a gallon of glitter on my head, and voila! The story poured out.
Rated T for bad language, some lime innuendo (it’s very light and Ace safe) and adult situations.
Hermione slipped out of the bed she shared with Ron and padded softly to the boy’s bathroom. She still felt grotty from yesterday, even after a scalding hot bath for an hour. While lying in the bed with Ron, his arm a comfort across her hip but sleep escaping her once again, she came to a pragmatic decision.
She closed the heavy door and picked up the brush she brought with her out of the beaded bag that was her lifeline. Her hair, the one thing on her that stayed when she wasted away, was officially a lost cause. She dropped the brush into the sink and pulled back her hair, trying to talk herself out of the decision made.
She had no logical argument to keep her hair, not when it
had grown nappy, knotted, kinked beyond any ability of magic or potions. Exhaustion
and pragmatic consideration made it an easy choice when she was standing in the
boy’s bathroom of Gryffindor tower and Harry’s razor sitting in front of
her. One casting from the wand she hated
with all of her soul sharpened the blade on the muggle safety razor and she
went to work, with the wand in her hand and then the razor in the other.