Dramione ~ 20 Years Later

Potters and Punishments

As suspected, I found myself with detention.

Damn you, Mia, I grumbled in my head.

At the start of my first day of lessons, I'd managed to style my hair in a twist so that the red hair was on the underside and would be less visible. It worked for my all my lessons! Except my last lesson.

Because just my luck, Proffesor Blackburn; my evil Potions Proffesor; noticed a strand of dark red hair slipping out of the elaborate knot I'd tied it in.

The school rules didn't specify much about dying hair. They just said something about how we should look smart and presentable during school hours and that uniform should be worn to all lessons. I was wearing my uniform! And my hair was tied back in a smart bun so that it was appropriate for learning. Blackburn deemed vibrant red tips as going against said rule anyway.

I'd lasted almost the entire lesson. But I, unfortunately, inherited my mother's eagerness to answer a question. So when the class was asked a nice easy question about polyjuice potions, my hand shot up in the air.

In doing so, my sleeve caught on a hairpin, letting loose a small section of my hair.

I watched, mortified as the long strand slipped out into plain view just as Blackburn was about to pick on me to answer the question.

I froze, watching with mild horror as his black eyes glared at the offending lock of my hair. By this point, every eye in the classroom was on me. I shifted uncomfortably under the stares as Blackburn glided towards me.

His polished dress shoes echoed loudly on the dungeon floor as he approached. His long black cloak swished around his ankles in a menacing manner as he stopped to stand directly in front of me.

I averted my eyes in favour of glaring holes into my desk as I waited for him to say something. Stupid Mia for making me do this, stupid Scorp for being sorted into Gryffindor and making me lose. Stupid Sorting Hat for putting him in said house.

I cautiously held my breath as he pulled out his wand and hooked it under the offending strand of hair, before pulling the section slightly towards him to get a better look at it.

"What colour is you hair, Miss Malfoy?" He drawled, his dark eyebrows raised in an unimpressed manner.

I finally glanced up at him. His dirty blond hair was slicked back in it's usual style and his cold eyes were trained on my face as he awaited an answer.

"Red, Proffesor. I dyed it." I swallowed nervously. Surely, he couldn't punish me for having dyed my hair red? We're in a magic school where there could be metamorphagi, for goodness sake!

"I don't class this as wearing uniform and looking presentable in my lesson, Miss Malfoy."

My mouth felt dry as I tried to come up with some sort of defence for myself. I took a moment to gather every ounce of courage I had to try and justify my hair colour. I really didn't want a detention from Blackburn. Especially not on the first day.

I opened my mouth to come up with an excuse but someone had beat me to it.

"Proffesor, if I may, the dress code doesn't specify about hair colours. It says that uniform has to be worn correctly during school hours and that make up can't be worn in lessons. Amara is following those rules."

Blackburn froze.

"Think we're clever do we, Mr Potter?"

My eyes flickered to James. He was sat behind the seat to my left with his arms folded and his ego touching the ceiling.