𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔 - pjo x hp

xliv. potters and their hair

"𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘," Raya muttered, going back to grab some more Slekeazy's Hair Potion. "You'd think this damn thing would tame your hair, considering who made it."

Raya was in the fourth year Gryffindor boys' dorm, trying her best to tame Harry's great glob of hair. She had been on her way to Ravenclaw Tower to get ready, when she saw Harry lounging around without a care in the world. Without a word, she'd dragged him to his dorm, trying to tame his mangled mess of locks without much luck.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, moving his head the way Raya turned it, trying to keep eye contact with the corner of his eye. "Who made the potion?"

Raya froze, turning his face to look at her. "You're kidding me."

"Does it look like I am?"

"Holy shit," Raya muttered. "You really don't know."

"I wonder what gave that away," Harry muttered sarcastically.

"Shut up," Raya turned his head to apply more of the potion. "It's where you get your entire family fortune from. Your grandfather, Fleamont Potter was the one who made it."

"Wait, what?"

Raya nodded, "Yeah, he sold the company afterwards, but made a shit ton of money. I'm sure you can find it all in your Gringotts account."

"All that money came from a hair potion?" Harry asked, staring at the can warily.

"Mhm," she agreed. "My dad told me that your grandfather had it made specifically for your dad, who's probably got hair like yours. Why — won't — it — stay — down?"

"Gentle," Harry said, trying to move his head. 

"You're fine," Raya waved it off, putting even more potion on. "But your dad never wore the potion — said he liked the homeless look."

"It's not a homeless look!" Harry sighed.

"Whatever you say, hun," Raya combed his hair back. "The only time he did wear it, was at his wedding. He was going to put some on — and by some, I mean your dad's friends stuck nearly five bottles in his hair. It made no difference. What the hell is wrong with your hair?"

Harry stepped back, looking in the mirror.

Raya had spent so long working on sticking Slekeazy's and so many other hair potions, but none of them made a difference. Harry's hair refused to lay flat on his head.

"It's no use," he shrugged.

"You've got those damn Potter hair genes," Raya muttered, shaking her head with her hands on her hips. "If you pass them onto your children, I will not be happy."

"It's just hair," he shrugged. "Who cares?"

"I don't care if Ron is your best friend, you should at least try to impress him," Raya said. "Who cares if it's not a traditional date or whatever? I think he'd appreciate the effort."

Since Harry was too shy to actually ask someone out to the dance, Raya had suggested the idea of him and Ron going together. Most of her friends were just going with their friends as dates. Harry and Ron thought it was the best idea they ever heard, and were apparently practicing how to do the salsa.

"Ron wouldn't notice if I shaved my hair off," Harry deadpanned. "He's not gonna care if it's flat on my head or not. Your date — he might care that you're still in a half broken bun and dressed like one of the worst hobos I've ever seen."

"Fuck off."

Once Professor Sikander asked Professor Sinastra out — she said yes — news that Raya and Kayse were going to the dance together spread quickly. Raya had already gotten seventeen death threats and multiple people glare at her enviously as she walked from class to class.