princess of*hp*'s EEFD - Sa9+
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Neville = Green
Gran Longbottom = Red
A month had passed after the final battle and the wizarding world was still in a celebratory frenzy. All people involved in the fight to the finish at Hogwarts and who had helped to bring about Voldemort’s downfall were international heroes, Neville and his Gran included. Gran Longbottom, being one of the oldest people next to Minerva McGonagall to fight for Harry, was enjoying the publicity and her new status as head witch in charge. Maybe a little too much, in Neville’s opinion.
It was a normal day in the Longbottom household; at least, as normal as it could have been after the family’s new celebrity status. Another load of mail had just arrived at the door, carried by a fleet of barn and tawny owls, and Neville dutifully lugged them into the living room, straining slightly under the weight of all of the parchment in the woven sack. His grandmother would be positively delighted at the sight of even more fan mail. Neville had received plenty of mail as well, even marriage proposals from awestruck girls, but it was Gran who enjoyed the attention the most. Trudging up the stairs, he knocked softly on the door to her bedroom.
“We’ve gotten more mail,” He spoke through the keyhole. It surprised Neville when his grandmother invited him inside of her room, a fortress that he was rarely obliged to enter. He put his hand on the rusted doorknob tentatively and pushed the entry open. The door glided across the carpet smoothly and silently until the knob hit the wall with a resounding thud, one that revealed the surprise within.
“Gran!” Neville gaped upon seeing his grandmother’s new hairstyle.
“What’ve you done?” Her hair had morphed from a tightly-curled nest of regal grey hair to an obnoxiously-styled flamingo pink bob.
“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” She simpered, taking a withered, manicured hand to pat down a few flyaways on the top of her head. Gran was perched in front of the mirror that sat on her armoire, wearing a mighty gleeful grin that looked as if it hurt the muscles in her wrinkled face.
Neville continued to gawk in silence as his Gran continued to speak, turning to rummage through a drawer in her armoire:
“Neville, I’ve got an extra bottle of hair potion over here just for you. Why don’t you try this color? It would compliment you smashingly, would impress your admirers… and would perfectly match that Merlin-forsaken blush that always colors your cheeks.” Neville had unintentionally blushed deeply at her mention of his groupies, which had caused her to make such a biting final comment. It seemed that women, both young and old, enjoyed a lad who destroyed fang-bearing horcruxes. Who knew?
Neville quickly came around, clearing his throat as he stared at the ominous, glitter-covered bottle in his Gran’s claw-like clutch.
“I won’t. I will not. I refuse.” He knit his brows together in an attempt to look surly but his grandmother struck back with fire in her eyes.
“Merlin’s pants, boy! Witch Weekly is doing an article on fashionable families, and we’re being featured along with other people, like Xenophilius and his lass!” Her lips were tight as she spoke the following words commandingly:
“Do you want to disappoint the public? Dye that hair of yours and work the good looks that your parents bestowed on you. Be a man, boy!”
Neville’s eyebrows rose in absolute surprise. Had she gone mad?! Gran’s words had been biting and slightly confusing but her face said it all: obey or be destroyed. She had been basking joyously in the limelight for being one of the heroes in the Battle of Hogwarts, but this stunt was taking things a bit too far for Neville’s taste. He assumed that by dyeing both his and her hair, Gran was trying to outdo everyone and prove that the Longbottoms were, as she liked to boast, fabulous. Neville never understood anything that his Gran did but this feat was particularly mind-boggling to him. It could have been any color in the world, but… pink?
He crossed his arms over his chest uneasily, chewing on his lower lip as he considered her words. He would do it for Gran; not for the admiration of his newfound fans, not for the experience, but for her. Besides, how bad could it possibly be if the Lovegoods were going to be featured as well? If anyone featured in the article about fashionable families was going to be noticed, it was going to be Luna and her father. Neville could blend easily into the background, especially if Gran decided to wear her large vulture hat when the photographer came to take a few photos.
Uncrossing his arms, Neville nodded slowly, feeling as if he was digging his own sparkly, neon pink grave. Gran’s scowl quickly returned to a smile as her grandson consented.
“That’s my boy,” She spoke triumphantly.
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princess of*hp*'s EEFD - Sa9+ 
