Proceeding from here

Obderedria didn't know which was worse; living in a world of shaggy brown and green or what the world would be like if she ever got free of it.

For no fully comprehensible reason (to her) this morning her hair had decided to take on a life of its own, forcing her to skip breakfast and be dragged off to the Hospital Hut least she ensnarl the whole of the Great Hall like some mutant tentacle monster attacking a Japanese city--not that Obderedria had been able to catch an entirety of one of those movies in one sitting.

She was immensely grateful to Juni. Juni being a marginally older and sensible student who knew how to do things and guide her to the hut. Not like Obderedria who could only sprout never ending lengths of hair out of her head.

Hair that, by the time they had reached the hut, had tangled various silverware, quills, sticks, at least one watch and various other things inside of it. Provided the hair just wasn't slapping at things. Of which Juni had dodged the most during the walk here.

The two students were met at the Hospital Hut door by an even-wider-eyed-than-usual house elf.  Pippy looked from the freckled girl to the crazy-haired girl.  "That appears...unfortunate, misses."  Pippy scrambled around the sofa and grabbed a pillow, wielding it as a soft, pliable shield against wayward locks. 

"Madam!"  The elf called over her shoulder towards the kitchen door.  This wasn't, strictly speaking, a 'medical emergency.'  No one appeared to be on the verge of mortal peril - apart from any number of fragile items scattered around the room.  Or, the golden eagle, perched on a t-stand in the corner, eyeing the flickering tentacles with an expression somewhere between predatory interest and indignation. 

Medical emergency or not, it was a situation that probably required prompt attention.  Before a house elf met her demise by way of a hairy hanging.  "Madam!"  Pippy called again. 

Then, routine and protocol finally caught up with her.  Intake.  Triage.  Yes.  "Misses.  Pippy thinks it's best you have a seat.  Is ... what seems to be the problem?"  It seemed a stupid, pointless question.  The problem seemed obvious.  However, Madam Nagde was always reminding Pippy that the most obvious symptom wasn't always the most dire.  One should always ask.  So, ask she would.

“What seems to be the problem?! WHAT SEEMS. TO BE. THE PROBLEM?” Juni exclaimed, as a large chunk of Drea’s mutant hair smacked her upside the head hard enough for her to faceplant onto the ground with a loud thud. The hair took another swipe at her and Juni crawled away from it as quickly as possible, keeping low to the ground to avoid getting hit again. When she finally did stand up, her nose started bleeding. 

“This—“ She said, her voice changing as she pinched her nose with her fingers, “This is the problem. Her hair is out of control!” Juni sounded almost comical with her nasally voice combined with a tone that was either irritable or worried—perhaps, a bit of both. “I can’t—it’s going to hurt somebody!” It had already caused Juni’s nose to bleed!  She certainly wasn’t going to write home about it to her father—he’d make fun of her forever. Or at least, Juni was convinced he would. 

Then, she realized she was yelling at the very people who were trying to figure out what to do.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just. It’s just, you know. UGH.” 

Another good reason for Juni to be around was so she could have the outburst Obderedria could rightfuly have in this situation.

Obderedria could be down for a case of hysterics as well. But she wasn't quite hysterical. Her hair had gotten so thick that it was hard to see and hear--the world muffled outside the cocoon of her hair. For once that doctor joke she could never figure out might actually apply--"Help! I'm seeing spots in my eyes!" "Have you seen a doctor?" "Nope, just spots!"--because her spots where on her hair over her face.

Odberedria could sense things away from her though. Every time her hair caught on something immovable the yank felt as if her scalp was trying to rip off. And she heard the cry of one of those little elfish creatures. And Juni's yell. “This is the problem. Her hair is out of control!—it’s going to hurt somebody!

Obderedria's voice sounded water logged. "I don't--I don't want to hurt anybody!!" From under the hair tears pooled under her eyes and curved down her cheeks. She could barely speak through her sobs. "I'm, I'm--I'm a bad witch!! I'm no good at magic!! I can't--control anything, can't control--magic--"

Even her wand being repaired hadn't fixed the problem. She'd never had a wand back in muggle primary, when her magic had manifested like this through her hair. That time she tried to dye it green and forever spotting herself, mum's horrendous haircut to try and get rid of them, how everyone at school had teased her.

As Obderedria cried some of the vibrancy was lost to her animated hair. But not the vengeance. While falling limp it further grew over everything like moss--one section grasping the door frame in an attempt to leave, dragging Obderedria along as well.

Juni’s eyes widened.

Oh Merlin, now she made Drea cry.

“No, no, I’m not saying you want to hurt someone! I’m saying your hair is homicidal! It has a mind of it’s own” She tried to clarify, “It doesn’t mean you’re bad at magic—I mean…” She stood up and flapped her hands at Drea as if the action would calm her down in some way. “You’re not a bad witch, you’re not a bad person. Bad things just happen to you. It doesn’t mean that you are bad. With—with that logic, Harry Potter is a bad wizard because bad things happened to him." She flapped her hands some more, "No. NO. Don’t think like that, Drea!”

Juni’s voice wasn’t kind, but her intention was—she simply did not know how to comfort someone who was panicking—which is probably why she wouldn’t make the best healer in the future

But then—then the hair was dragging Drea away?!

Juni lept towards Drea and grabbed her feet, pulling her feet back in an attempt to fight the hair. The only thing she was able to pull back was Drea's shoes, leaving her clad in socks and with hair out of control. She turned and snapped at Pippy, "Are you going to DO something?!"

"Yes, yes!"  Pippy gently bounced a tentacle of hair back in the other direction, feeling more than a bit overwhelmed.  Overhead, she could hear the shuffling and thuds of footsteps as Tulojow made her way downstairs.  "Yes!  This is obvious.  But-  So, there's nothing else!  Nothing...hiding?"  The elf dodged another lock of hair and shrugged her shoulders in resignation. 

If there was anything else, clearly the girls couldn't see it past the wild hair, either.  Pippy couldn't have been more thrilled to pass the case on to the Healer.  As soon as Tulojow stepped through the door, the elf carefully backed away from the girls.  After handing the pillow over, she darted across the room into the far corner - ready to help if needed, but perfectly content to keep her distance. 

Tulojow surveyed the scene, offering the Hufflepuff a sympathetic grimace as the girl broke into tears.  Feeling out of control of one's magic was a scary and frustrating position - even when such a state merely manifested in a theoretical, figurative manner.  When it was, literally, smacking you in the face and destroying your surroundings, it was all the more intimidating. 

"Oh goodness," Tulojow remarked, watching the waving bunches of hair.  With a calm, amused grin, she added: "I suppose it'd be distasteful to offer a few bad hair day jokes." 

But, just like any other mishap - magical or medical - the approach was often the same. 

- If necessary, identify and triage the most pressing, obvious symptom: Hair gone wild
- Find a way to get it manageable and minimize long term damage: Find a way to corral it if it can't be tamed
- Perform a thorough exam to identify the underlying cause
- Treat the underlying cause
- Develop a plan to prevent relapses. 

First things first.  Tulojow crossed the room to a cupboard and withdrew a pack of bubble gum.  She handed a handful of pieces over to Juni and unwrapped another several for herself.  "Give this a good chew and then hand it back," she instructed around a mouthful of gum.  Once armed with a pair of stick wads of chewing gum, Tulojow carefully held them out and waited for them to be snatched up. 

She watched and waited for the hair to work the sticky restraints well down into the roots. 

Feeling a little weak in the knees, Obderedria luckily collapsed into one of the seats. Her neck lurched back and her scalp pained from the hair being momentarily pulled from her weight before it went elsewhere.

Just like the debris accumulated during the trek from the Great Hall, her hair began snapping up more incidentals like Heliotrope LeJean's working of a kelp whip. Including several sticks and wads of the gum chewed and unchewed.

The effect soon brought one part of Obderedria's hair into a snarl locked in place, incapable of greater movement. This prompted a spurt in growth of hair on the other side of her head, trying to arch back towards the gum-chewers like a flock of silly string. Obderedria was feeling dizzy and hungry at this point but her sobs were muffled when her open mouth also was filled with hair.

Juni looked at Tulojow incredulously but took the gum, chewing it before spitting it out and handing them to the healer, though she felt a bit grossed out by that entire action. She tried not to gag when the gum went into Drea’s hair. That meant Juni’s saliva was in Drea’s hair! That was disgusting! She felt like she had actually spat onto someone’s head. Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!

But this was no time to feel disgusted. The hair was now in Drea’s mouth!

“Obderedria! Can you breathe?” She exclaimed, looking from Tulojow to Drea, and back again. “This is absolutely insane. Why is this happening?!” Juni huffed, “If she’s making muffled noises, that means she can still breathe right?” Juni had heard something about that. Her dad had always told her not to worry if someone is coughing on their food—let them cough. But if they were no longer making noise, then that meant that they needed immediate help. Maybe that same logic applied to hair being shoved down your mouth?
 
"Everything. Is going to be. Okay. Got it? We'll figure something out!"

Speaking of coughing that was the sound broke out from Obderedria's mouth, not that food was involved--hair porridge did not sound like a tasty dish--but she coughed and battered the hair out of her mouth enough to keep breathing.

She could barely tease enough oh her hair about--was that a pun?--to see what was going on beyond the half of her elongated protein strands of the scalp clumping about the spit laden chewables.

"I--I-- I can't remember how it stopped last time. But it might have taken a few days."