Author's Note: Written for Dragon MoonX, who suggested I write about why Scabior has a red streak in his hair. (I've had this idea for a while, and Scabior fit perfectly with it!)
Dangerous Beauty II
"What's that?" Scabior asked, watching his housemates open packages over breakfast.
Clarisse looked up from a box she'd unwrapped to shoot him a puzzled look. "Hair dye," she answered, turning the box around so he could see the front: a woman with long red hair. The before-and-after shot showed she had originally been blonde, like Clarisse.
He pushed aside his plate and leaned across the table to get a better look at the box. "How does it work?"
Clarisse looked around nervously before tearing the box open and dumping the contents on the table: instructions, a pair of gloves, and a bottle of red goop.
"You put that in your hair?" Marisol interrupted, looking disgusted at Clarisse. "Why don't you just use a spell? That's what I do." She flipped her jet black locks.
"The spells aren't really reliable. Remember that week my hair turned purple? Spell. And at least with this, I can just dye a few strands if I want. With the spells I have to dye all of it."
Scabior nodded along. It sounded reasonable to him, and Clarisse was half-blood besides. She was always bringing strange contraptions from home.
The subject was dropped until later that evening, when Clarisse entered the common room with her head covered in the foul-smelling goop. Most everyone shied away from her, afraid to catch something, but Scabior was still interested.
"How long do you have to keep that in?" he asked, plugging his nose at the stench.
"About fifteen minutes, then I can wash it out." She was looking at him strangely.
He fidgeted anxiously with the brown glove that covered his left hand, afraid suddenly that she could see through it. He miraculously managed to keep his accident under wraps for five years, and he'd hate for the real reason behind his fashion statement to come out now, when he was only a few months shy of leaving school.
"Do you … want to try it?" Clarisse asked suddenly, and Scabior was so absorbed in his worries that he forgot what they were talking about.
"Try what?"
"The hair dye. I mean, you hair's sort of … plain." And it was true. Angelica said his hair was mud brown. "I have some dye left over. Maybe not enough for all of it, but highlights?"
He pursed his lips, playing with a few strands. Maybe it would stop his sister's complaining for a few days.
"Alright. But could we just start slow, in case I don't like it?"
Scabior insisted on staying locked in a bathroom stall until it was time to rinse out his hair, at which point Clarisse snuck into the men's room and helped him, making sure he got all of the goop out.
"Well?" she asked, stepping back to appraise him. "What do you think?"
Scabior turned his head to the left and right, frowning at his reflection in the mirror and the bright red streak in his hair. Finally he turned to Clarisse and grinned wickedly.
"I need more of this stuff," he said, running a few fingers through the red hair.
Maybe muggles weren't completely useless.