Bill’s hair is long again. Harry, remembering how they both flinched at the scrape of Molly’s scissors yesterday, is glad he gets to look how he wants at his own wedding.

It’s not the same as what Aunt Petunia did when he was eight, because Molly Weasley loves her sons so fiercely and doesn’t consider them a waste of space; but it’s also not the same because Harry was only desperate not to be made fun of, and Bill was forced to shed the months and years and memories that went into growing it out.