Snarry-a-Thon11: FIC: Olly, Olly, Oxen Free Title: Olly, Olly, Oxen Free Author:lemondropseven Rating: G Word count: 1,450 (give or take) Warning(s): None Prompt: 120. Harry has a barber shop. Severus needs a hair cut. Prefer this not be crack. Summary: He'd always worn his hair long enough to cover his eyes, even as a child. A/N: Thanks to my wonderful friend and beta for making this better than it was. Hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and company, I just play with them.
Olly, Olly, Oxen Free
He'd always worn his hair long enough to cover his eyes, even as a child.
Severus insisted he preferred it that way, but the truth was, it was as much an emotional barrier as a physical one. Children and adults alike rarely looked beyond the obvious. They saw his greasy hair, hooked nose, and dirty, ill-fitting clothes, and didn't bother to dig deeper to find fodder for their insults. He easily shrugged off the criticisms, glad they hid his real inadequacies.
No one wanted to be told their soul was lacking.
But today was his fiftieth birthday. More than a decade had passed since Voldemort's defeat. He was the owner of a successful potions shop.
And he was tired of hiding.
Severus pushed open the door to a Muggle barbershop, mentally shaking his head at the irony of choosing a place where no one would recognize him to come out of hiding. Catching sight of messy black hair and brilliant green eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, he froze, taking in a sharp breath, and nearly walked back out. He and Potter had had one in-depth, extremely awkward conversation about his memories right after the war, when he was recovering from Nagini's attack, but their paths had crossed infrequently since then.
"Professor Snape," Potter greeted, showing some surprise, but no signs of distress, "How may I help you?"
"I haven't been a professor for years, Mr. Potter, you may call me Snape."
Potter simply smiled a little at his acerbic tone--Severus always reverted to his most sarcastic when rattled--and moved behind the front desk, waiting for him to continue.
Severus hesitated, suddenly unsure. His fists clenched involuntarily, and he could feel his shoulders tighten. Was he ready for this? And did he really want to let Potter near him with sharp implements? But there is only one reason to visit a barbershop, and even Potter could infer why he was there.
"Need a wash and haircut, then?" Potter asked pleasantly, breaking the silence. He looked down at an open appointment book. "You're in luck, actually. My two o'clock just cancelled, so I can get you in right now."
When he didn't respond, Potter looked at him curiously, searching his face. Severus wondered what he saw, because Potter's eyes glinted with something like sympathy, then his expression went carefully blank. His voice was neutral, almost distant, when he spoke.
"You know, it can be hard having one physical aspect identify who you are." He paused, reaching up to rub a finger over the faded lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Looking straight into Severus' eyes, he continued, "But you're lucky. You can change yours."
Too stunned at Potter's insight to protest, Severus found himself following Potter without a word as he led the way back to a chair and sink.
"Here we are then. Just sit down, lay your head back, and relax. I promise this won't hurt a bit." His smile was easy, but his eyes were serious.
Severus snorted. As if he needed reassurances from Potter, of all people. Still, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly before settling into the chair.
"Let me know if the water is too hot," Potter warned as he placed a towel around Severus' neck, then covered him with a plastic drop cloth.
"Fine," Severus acknowledged, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into the sink. What he was about to do hit him anew, and his fingers dug into the vinyl padding on the chair arms.
The water was the perfect temperature, and Severus eased his death grip on the chair just a bit, but he jolted at the first touch of Potter's fingers combing through his hair; he wasn't used to being touched. Thankfully, Potter either didn't notice how jumpy his former professor was, or was smart enough to not mention it.
After a minute or so, Severus was just starting to relax when Potter withdrew his hands, letting the water continue to run. Severus heard a container opening and caught the fresh scent of shampoo. Giving into the temptation to make sure the former boy-hero knew what he was doing, he murmured, "And just what are you putting in my hair, Mr. Potter?"
Potter immediately rattled off a list of common ingredients in homemade natural soaps and shampoos. Then added with a grin Severus couldn't see, but heard perfectly well, "Sir."
"Impertinent brat," Severus answered, a small smirk playing on his lips.
He didn't jump this time when Potter touched him, but had to stifle a moan as Potter massaged his scalp, working the shampoo through his hair. It felt wonderful, and the tension in his neck and shoulders melted away under Potter's surprisingly soothing ministrations.
Potter quickly and efficiently rinsed his hair, then repeated the procedure with a minimum of conversation, for which Severus was grateful; he was simultaneously blissed out from the massage and bloody nervous about the rapidly approaching haircut, and doubted his ability to be coherent.
"Ok, we're all done here," Potter reported cheerfully. He wrapped a towel around Severus' head to keep his hair from dripping on the floor. "Let's move over to my station, and you can tell me what kind of cut you want."
Severus stood, swallowing hard, and told himself he'd faced death, torture, and all sorts of unspeakable things with less trepidation; it didn't make him feel better, it just made him feel foolish.
He never had liked that feeling.
Straightening his shoulders, Severus tilted his chin up, crossed the short distance to Potter's station, and sat in the chair before he could talk himself out of this.
"So, do you know what kind of haircut you want, Snape?" Potter asked, pumping the pedal under the chair, raising Severus to a manageable height in jerky motions.
"Shorter."
Potter chuckled as he readied his tools, putting various scissors, clips, combs, and spray bottles within easy reach. "Well, yes, I had assumed it would be shorter. That would be hard to avoid. But what about style? What type of haircuts do you like?"
"I have no idea."
"Would you like to look through some magazines? Or do any of these appeal to you?" He gestured to the large posters lining the shop's walls, featuring ridiculous portraits of various hair styles.
"No. Just make it shorter, Potter," Severus said, glaring a little.
Potter paused, staring at him briefly as he had before, then gently said, "Whatever you say, Snape."
Tensing involuntarily as Potter picked up his comb and scissors, Severus caught Potter's understanding gaze in the mirror. He watched Potter lean down, ostensibly to check that the drape was still secured since he fiddled with the fastening at his neck for a moment.
He almost didn't hear the whispered promise, "It'll be ok."
Severus had to close his eyes, couldn't bear to actually watch the long black strands of hair falling to the floor--the sound of snipping scissors near his ears was stressful enough--and hoped Potter meant it.
The combing and cutting seemed to last forever, and Severus had to fight the urge to peek. Finally, Potter announced, "All right, you're done." He brushed the hair off Severus' neck, pulled the plastic drape off, and swiveled the chair to face the mirror. "You can open your eyes now, Snape," he added.
Severus squeezed his eyes shut tighter for just a second before slowly opening them, and looking in the mirror.
Staring in disbelief, it took him a moment to recognize himself. Leaning forward, he turned his head to the left, then the right. Severus wasn't delusional enough to think a haircut could make him handsome, but...he looked different in a good way. Running a hand through the short, almost-shaved sides and back, he rubbed the hair the wrong way, liking the prickly-soft feeling, then sifted his fingers through the slightly longer top layers, parting it to one side.
"It's simple, short, and doesn't take much to style it," Potter interrupted his inspection. "You can part it to either side, like you just did, straight forward, or even slicked back or spiked up, if you like." Grinning as Snape just continued to stare himself, he asked, "Well, what do you think?"
"It's...different." That seemed to be the only conclusion Severus could come to. Well, that, and one other. "But I like it."
"Good, I'm glad." Taking a closer look at Snape, Potter continued, "I think it really suits you. It's like I can see you better now."
Feeling lighter than he ever had in his life, Severus met Potter's eyes in the mirror and smiled. A small, but genuine smile. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."