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The plan was for Rhys to meet Piper at the Fat Lady's portrait a quarter to eight so they could make it down to the Great Hall and be ready to greet attendees.
The plan was not for Piper to be caught up—literally—in a rat's nest that had designated Mary's head as home for the evening.
From Piper's understanding, Mary had attempted to use some sort of newfangled spell she had read about in the cosmetics issue of The Daily Prophet, something that was supposed to take all of the fuss about pinning up hair and turn it into one simple wand-wave. Or that was how it had been advertised, anyway. But—and Piper had always tried to warn them against it—Midge Skeeter was renowned for her mistruths and flat lies issued for print, so when she suddenly came out with her own line of charms to "up" one's appearance after having virtually no background in spell-making, Piper could have guessed it wouldn't end up well on Mary's side of things.
If she hadn't stepped out of the dormitory for one moment to send a letter off to her family, it was likely she could have talked Mary down from such a precarious ledge. But Piper had been told too many times before that she needed not to live in the past and regret what she shouldhave done.
So when the cloud of shimmery purple fog dissipated from around Mary's head and revealed quite possibly the worst tied knot in all history, and when Lily began screaming at the sight of it, and when Marlene panicked and tried to spell the failed updo away—which, of course, only made it angrier—Piper stepped in as level-headed as she could and made to tackle the mess the Muggle way.
"It hurts," whined Mary, as Piper gave a good tug to the knot. "I can't believe I thought Skeeter could have actually invented her own cosmetics line. I'm so thick."
"Anyone could have fallen for it," Piper said, as soothingly as she could manage, at least with a scowl renting her face from the sheer effort it was taking to brush through the mess. "And the good news is that it didn't muck up your dress or makeup."
"How horrible that would be," Marlene said flatly, as she attempted to clean up and paint over the lipstick that Mary's flailing arms had smeared all down her chin.
"We're so late," sighed Lily, with another glance to the clock over the door. She was the only one entirely ready—of course she was. "They're all going to be gone when we get down there. I guarantee it."
"What, leave us?" Marlene demanded, wiping away the last of her red stain. She turned away from the mirror to give Lily a scowl. "They'd never."
"They wouldn't," Piper agreed, finally making head out of the mess that was Mary's hair. "I'm almost through with Mary, anyway, Lily, if you're worried about timing; you and Marlene can go ahead—"
"Don't be ridiculous; we're all going together," snapped Lily, which was how Piper knew she was fighting a large battle in her mind—a nice sentiment executed in a harsh tone. They were teetering dangerously over Lily-losing-her-mind territory.
