Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Author's Note: Was written for the "Strange Obsessions" Challenge


Draco Malfoy stared at himself in the mirror that was perched on his dresser. Without shifting his gaze, he dipped three fingers into the container beside him, scooping up the goo gleefully. Using his other hand, he reached for his comb, running it through his hair numerous amounts of time. After he was satisfied, he ran the goo though his silver locks. Draco narrowed his eyes at his reflection, moving the gel in different directions, hoping to style his flattened hair. He finally stopped, pleased with the finished product. Muggles might be stupid, but they did know a thing or two about hair product.

Pansy smirked, leaning against the doorframe. She had been watching as Draco for a while now, and was greatly entertained. She hadn't bothered to stop him, or let him know that she was there. Huh, she thought. Thinks he's a great wizard, doesn't even know when someone's in his doorway. The thought made her grin widen. Pansy quietly lifted her wand from her cloaks, thinking of the, what looked soft, goo that Draco had just finished slicking through his hair.

"Duro," she whispered, sniggering in delight as the gel hardened, almost immediately. Draco's hair looked worse than before, and he swung around to face Pansy. She stopped laughing, seeing the glimmer of anger that had flashed in his eyes. "What is it then?" she asked, sauntering into the room.

Draco eyed her carefully, as she circled him. He held the tub in his hands tightly, before finally handing it over. He couldn't tell her it was a muggle invention, she'd probably laugh in his face. So he had done the same thing he had done when his father had asked him, handing the tub of gel over in hope that they would come up with their own name for it. Pansy grimaced as she dipped her fingers in it, as she had seen Draco do moments before.

"Are you going to tell me then?" she snapped, wiping her hands on one of his shirts that had been lying on the floor. "I find it disgusting," she added, shuddering.

"Why'd you come here, Pansy?" Draco asked, avoiding her question. Pansy looked up at him, smiling lightly, before circling him once more.

"Can't a girl visit her boyfriend?" She gave him a kiss on the cheek, moving towards his dresser. She held the tub in one palm, while circling the rim with her index finger. "I don't suppose," Pansy whipped around to face him. "You have more?"

Draco gapped at her, wondering why on earth she had asked about a mere muggle invention. Oh yes, she doesn't know that, Draco thought bitterly. Not yet, she's bound to figure it out. He watched as she gazed imploringly at him, her brown eyes piercing into him. He shook his head hesitantly, seeing Pansy's face screw up in a manner that he had learned to recognize over the years, the face she was about to use when she either going to insult, or say something clever.

"Pity, you won't have any then," she said, screwing the lid she had found on his dresser. She tossed the tub in the air, catching it neatly in both hands, before putting it away within her robes. Draco opened his mouth to protest, and then clamped it shut. Pansy smirked, strutting out of his room with a quick wave.

"By the way," she popped her head back into his room momentarily. "You might want to fix your hair, Draco." She laughed loudly, in a way that reminded him of his Aunt Bellatrix. He sighed, sitting down on his bed.

He had found the hair gel in Diagon Alley one day; he had assumed some filthy mudblood had dropped it. His father hadn't seen it, so he had bent down and pocketed it quickly. On returning home with it, he had headed to his room immediately, eager to see what this muggle invention did. Draco was pleasantly surprised when he realized it was help style his hair, and had taken to using it often. After a couple of months, he was running low on this amazing muggle product, and it had resulted into him writing a letter to the mudblood, Hermione Granger. Writing the letter had been one of the harder jobs he had done over the holidays, but it had been necessary.

Hermione had been shocked when she read the letter from Draco, and had disregarded it for a while. She had come across it again when sifting through her study notes. She was even more surprised to find that he was asking a favour of her, to find him some 'hair gel.' She tipped the envelope, letting the twenty galleons fall into her hands. He expects me to buy a muggle product with wizard money, she raised her eyebrows at the thought. However, Hermione decided to humour Malfoy, and had bought some tubs for him. This continued for two years.

"Hey," Hermione didn't even look up at whoever had bumped into her.

"Granger," Draco clutched her arm. "Pansy took my hair gel."

"So?" Hermione laughed. "All of it?" Her humoured tone turned into shock. How much hair gel could a girl use? As far as she knew, girls usually used hair spray over hair gel. But what did she know about the habits of girls in the Wizarding World? Witches always did seem to have a different way of doing things.

"Just one tub," Draco whimpered. Hermione looked down at his pleading form, disgusted. Draco Malfoy, of all people, was begging. He was begging on his knees. This is insane, Hermione screamed in her mind. Malfoy was upset over one, pathetic small tub of hair gel.

"Then start a new tub," Hermione glanced hesitantly down at him. "You've got plenty to spare."

Draco stared after her as she walked away. How could the filthy mudblood refuse him? How dare she! He didn't bother going or calling after her, he was sick of grovelling. Instead, he turned around, racing towards the Slytherin common room. He arrived, panting the password, and streamed into the room. Barely taking any notice to the lazing Slytherins on couches, he made his way to his room. Draco immediately made his way towards his dresser, yanking at the bottom drawer. He cackled happily as the items came into sight. Small tubs of hair gel filled the drawer, soon about to be used.

Pansy stared at him from the doorway, her mouth wide open.

"You're obsessed," she muttered, throwing the tub she had taken before on his bed. Then, she ran for it.