Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all the copyrights associated to it belongs to J.K Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Inc., Warner Bros., and any other entities involved. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.
"You, you little, you...You gave me a haircut!" Ducking behind a petrified house-elf, Harry barely managed to avoid the large antique unicorn skull which had been hurtling at him with a deadly accuracy. Whacking smartly into the stone wall behind him, the skull chittered bitterly at Harry as its horn tip wedged into an inconvenient crack, leaving it dangling precariously five feet off the ground.
"A haircut, you doxy-headed hippogriff-arsed terror!"
"Sorry," mouthed Harry as he reached up a tentative hand to rescue the poor skull. He was soon reminded of his own need for rescue, however, when the house-elf he'd been using as a shield let out a high-pitched squeak that every Snape-owned creature would recognize as a daily Snape-induced noise and un-petrified itself long enough to jump out of the window.
Traitor! Harry thought bitterly after it as he rolled to avoid the squalling Mandrake baby tossed at him. It barely managed to catch hold of a trembling table leg and swing away from the unforgiving wall, but Harry couldn't spare any worry for its wellbeing. Not when he was doing spinning pirouettes to avoid various swords, dead cockroaches, and the occasional cursed Bludger flying through the air.
"A haircut, you misbegotten spawn of a thestral-licker and unicorn-wanker!"
The unicorn skull snapped its teeth angrily at the insult, but in a quiet way. Because even skulls were better than Harry at avoiding the ire of the Hogwarts Kingdom's most powerful noble.
Briefly, Harry wondered if he should follow the house elf's escape, but a quick look out of the window stopped that thought. Honestly, it was at times like these that he truly wished he wasn't the only human in the castle. As it was, he had no fancy-shmancy wings to save him from a thousand-foot drop to the death out of the castle's Astronomy tower.
"A haircut! A haircut!"
Nothing for it, then. He was going to have to apologize.
"Snape? Snape, I'm sor-" Poking a head out from behind a quivering couch, Harry drew back again hastily a ball of flame came soaring towards him. Though, wait...looking more closely at the flickering ball, Harry gaped to see that the flames were bright blue. What on earth...? Normal cauldron fire was one thing, but using bluebell flames for ammunition? Snape might be powerful, but that was one of things which could actually hurt him!
"A haircut, you snot-faced dragons-cursed traitorous-"
"Snape, please, I'm really, really, really sorry, but I honestly don't see what the big deal iyack!" Harry's voice strangled into a squawk as Snape ran out of things to throw and finally decided to grab Harry by the collar instead. Harry could only hope that he wasn't about to be thrown as well. First and last human in the Hogwarts Kingdom, about to test out wingless flight through the window.
"You gave me, me, the Lord of Potions, a haircut!" Snape's voice rose to a shriek, as he shook Harry around like a ragdoll. Half-strangled, bewildered, and utterly annoyed, Harry could only hang limply from Snape's powerful grasp and wait for the storm to peter out.
Or, Harry decided after a few interminable minutes in which Snape showed no signs of stopping, I could just poke him in the eye with my new wand and make a run for it.
The first part of the plan went off beautifully.
The second part, not so much, because Harry felt too guilty to leave when Snape was all helpless and clutching his eye and spewing incomprehensible obscenities at him. He was just a bleeding heart like that.
Besides, he strongly suspected that Draco was lurking just around the door. And while the hysterical cackling he'd been hearing throughout the debacle may have meant that he approved of the haircut as much as Harry did, not accepting the responsibility of half-blinding Mr. No-Touchy-My-Powerful-Poncy-Hairdo would be a definite no-no in his books.
"Uh, Snape?" Snape gave no response. Well, not unless you counted him rolling his one good eye to glare at Harry a response. "Look, I'm really, really sorry about this. Really. I didn't realize that you were so obsessed-" an undignified snort from outside the door, accompanied with an intensified glare from Snape, told Harry that he was treading on thin ice, "...uh...I meant...attached to your hairstyle. Yea. Attached. Sorry. I can promise that it won't happen again. Ever again. Ever, ever-"
"Oh do shut up," sighed Snape in exasperation, and damned if Harry didn't wilt a little at feeling the "you're-so-stupid-I-can't-even-stay-annoyed-with-you" vibes Snape was exuding. Well, Harry's feelings wilted. Some other parts of him did the exact opposite. Because, well, Snape was hot, even when he was annoyed. Actually, make that especially when he was annoyed. Harry just wished that he could admire Snape's hotness while he was annoyed at someone other than Harry. "What use is promising after you've done the deed?"
"Look, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I used the keys you gave me to sneak into your dungeons, and I'm sorry I thought that you'd like a new hairstyle! I mean, c'mon, I'm a hairdresser, and that greasy long hair just bugged me, y'know? And even if you think that it's totally ugly," and here Harry couldn't stop a wibble from coming into his voice, because that hairstyle made Snape look even better than he already did and that shouldn't have been possible but it was and Harry would hate to see three hours of hard work flushed away like that, "it's not like it's the end of the world! I'll never touch it again and you can let it get back to that greasy drippy look and I won't bother you again. Ever again. Ever, ever-"
"Idiot," growled Snape, pinching the bridge of his nose. Thankfully, the eye Harry had poked seemed to have healed over nicely by now. "Listen. I will explain this to you once again, because your puny little mind apparently failed to understand it the first time. Firstly, what am I?"
Harry blinked. "...Lord Snape?"
Snape blew out an impatient breath. "And?"
"Uh. The Lord of Potions?...General of Dumbledore's Army?...Most powerful noble in the Hogwarts Kingdom?...Most sought after bachelor in the Imperial Balls? Most powerful wizard who dragged me into the Wizarding World and can't figure out how to send me back to Muggle Earth again? Biggest git in the world who won't tell me what he wants me to say..."
Snape snorted involuntarily in laughter. Harry noted with relief that he appeared to be over the Fatal-Tantrum stage and well into the Semi-Vicious-Ego-Shattering mood. Unpredictable and dangerous, that was Snape. Thank heavens he'd given up on his grudge-holding, or Harry would never survive all the messes he'd made so far.
"As I said, you are an idiot. Or maybe just a typical human, but I wouldn't know, because I am not human. The one detail which every being in the realm thinks of when they see me, and which you, with your usual obliviousness, forgets, is that I am Vampire. I am the First, the Undead Patriarch, Master of the Night, and you would do well to remember that for once, and treat me with respect."
"Oh. Well, yea, I knew that. Hard not to know it, especially when you came at me with those fangs and those eyes the first time we met..."
"And because I am Vampire," continued Snape loudly, "what abilities do I have?"
"Oh, that's easy. You're immortal. Super-strong. Super-fast. And ooh, ooh! I know!" Harry grinned mischievously at this, "You're super sparkly too, right? Your secret glittery vampiric talents are most powerful and awe-inspiring-"
"Draco." Snape's voice held a note in it which Harry correctly identified as 'Dangerous: Back Away Fast'. "Note down a new rule. Any mention of sparkles and vampires in the same sentence is hereafter forbidden."
"I believe we have a similar rule already, my lord," wafted the voice from outside the chamber. "Rule One Hundred and Two. It's right between 'Do not train the hellhounds to play fetch with the skeleton butler's bones' and 'do not tell dentist horror stories to the vampire babies'."
"Ah. Fun times," said Harry with a reminiscent smile.
"For you, perhaps," said Snape in a quelling tone. "The butler may never recover his right ulna back again. However, that is not the issue here. The issue is that I am immortal, and so I will never grow older. I will never change." Sitting back, he looked at Harry expectantly.
"Yea, that's what I said, right?" Harry eyed Snape in puzzlement.
Snape waited. Harry thought. A cricket chirped somewhere in the distance.
"And if. You're immortal, and you don't change, and you can't have haircuts," Harry said slowly, wrinkling his brow hard, "it's 'cos...your hair..." Harry's eyes widened incredulously, "your hair's not gonna grow back?"
"Precisely." Snape's teeth glinted in the firelight. Did they look sharper than usual? "Vampire nails do not grow longer. Vampire hair does not grow longer. And so, I cannot 'let it get back to that greasy drippy look', because it will never grow back. I am stuck with the modern hairstyle that you inflicted upon me, and I will be stuck with it until you get it into your fool head to sneak into my dungeons again even after I'd expressly asked you to come in only when I'm awake and chop off another third of my hair and I cannot fathom why I've put up with all your shenanigans for this long..."
"But how was I supposed to know?" Harry wailed, neatly cutting off Snape's impending lecture with the ease of long practice. "It's not like I did it as a prank. C'mon, you gotta admit that you're perfect like this! Well, not that you weren't perfect before, only that was mostly the face and body, and now it's the face and body and hair. People are gonna be chasing after you, because you look hot. Really hot. Really. Love the whole package. Hair and all. This is probably the point at which you should interrupt me. Because I'm babbling about your hotness. Aren't you gonna interrupt me?"
"Oh no. Do continue," said Snape. "This is proving to be far more amusing than I would have expected. I admit myself to be quite...gratified...by your interest in my looks. Though, of course," and his voice went chilly, though a lingering glint of speculation remained in his eyes, "only an idiot would express their interest by cutting off my hair and run..."
"I said I was sorry! Honestly, how long are you planning to be a git about this? And I never said that I was interested in you! I was just interested in your hair!"
"Hmm." Snape eyed Harry suspiciously. Harry stared innocently back, while heaving an inner sigh of relief. He always felt most nervous at this stage, never knowing if his unruly tongue may land him in permanent trouble one day. But he'd managed to control it somewhat this time - as confessions went, he hadn't taken it as far as he had before - the Lust Potion incident still made him wince - and as denials went, this one rated a high score on his tactfulness scale. Though the fact that he had a tactfulness scale spoke disturbing things about their odd ritual - Harry would mess up, Snape would rant and storm and roar, Harry would apologize, Snape would rant and storm and roar, Harry would slip up and show his attraction to Snape, Snape would stop in his ranting and storming to investigate it, Harry would make a knee-jerk denial of his feelings, and Snape would rant and storm and roar some more. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but Harry just couldn't bring himself to change the status quo. It didn't matter what Draco said, Harry just needed some more time to gather his courage, so all they needed to do was maintain their adversarial relationship for a little bit more, and any moment now Snape would start ranting and storming and roaring and things could go back to normal...
"You are possibly the worst liar I have had the pleasure of courting."
"...Eh?"
Or maybe not.
"You are also rash. Disobedient. Incapable of following orders. Incapable of realizing, even after I sent you a key to my rooms, that I'd been giving you express permission to visit me openly, whenever you wished."
"You...you were? I just...I just...I didn't realize..." Harry faltered a little, because the way Snape was looking at him was making something shift in his belly. An odd tension had begun to permeate the room.
"Oh? How oblivious of you, Harry." The sly, purring tone did nothing for Harry's calm and everything for his libido. "One might wonder if you'd overlooked anything else." Slowly, Snape rose to his feet, his dark eyes fixed upon Harry's. "Indeed, I do wonder." Snape's steps were leisurely, almost catlike; Harry found himself mesmerized. "Given your obliviousness," and gods Snape should be banned from rolling that word on his tongue like that, "in general, perhaps I should take charge," Harry, self-preservation instincts finally kicking in, began scuttling around the couch like a frightened crab, "of our relationship."
"Oh." Harry's voice squeaked a little. Snape's grin widened; Harry backpedaled faster. "Ha. No need. Ha. Now I know. I'll just stay out of the way, like I'm doing right now, and I just need some more time, and I'll use the key in the right way and stay out of your way if you could just quit chasing me around the couch like your personal handmaid-"
"Oh no. I have run out of patience. I thought to allow you choice in this matter. You chose, but did not act. I thought to allow you time. You watched, and still you did not act. And now that you have walked willingly to my bedside, to stroke my skin and whisper endearments in my ears when you thought me unconscious, only to leave like a frightened sprite after cutting my hair? I find myself disinclined to wait any longer."
"You...what? You heard me? You weren't asleep? You...you...you were pretending all alo-" Harry's increasingly horrified babbling was stopped short, as Snape pinned him down to the couch, tilted up his chin and oh god, Harry was hyperventilating, because Snape was giving him the most soul-scorching lip-searing kiss of his life and oh god, Harry's eyes were rolling up, because Snape was pressing down onto him, and oh god, Harry couldn't think straight because Snape was nibbling and groping and stroking-
Snape only released him when the sound of hooting came from all corners of the tower.
Clutching Snape's robes in a death grip and gulping in huge mouthfuls of air, Harry peered dazedly around to see what looked like half the denizens of the castle peeking into the doors and windows. He barely had time to be appropriately creeped out by Peeves' attempt to emulate a cheerleader – the "rah-rahs" were bad enough, but the pink pom-poms and tutu skirt were just wrong – before Snape sent everyone flying with a casual flick of his hand. The sound of the doors and windows slamming shut upon their indignant squawks made Harry blink, as did the sudden dimming of the candle lights and the smell of sweet roses in the air.
Looking up to see Snape's smoldering gaze, he blinked some more, and slowly began to grin. For a moment, he was sorely tempted to tease Snape for that overt display of sappiness, but finally decided to tuck it away as future blackmail material.
After all, he thought, as he wrapped eager fingers into Snape's thick, soft hair and pulled him down for another kiss, there are much more important things to do now. And as Snape's hair fell across their faces like a gentle cloak, Harry thanked the heavens that he hadn't gone with his original impulses and given Snape a buzz cut.
A/N: So, uh. Yea. In case it wasn't clear, Harry's a hairdresser from the modern world who was dragged into Snape's medieval world by a spell turned awry. Snape is a Vampire who sleeps in the daytimes, but just because he can't move about in his sleep doesn't mean that he isn't aware of his surroundings. Hence his annoyance when Harry sneaks into his bedroom, teases him with innocent touches and kisses, then cuts his hair and leaves. *snicker*Poor frustrated Snape. Also, I've an alternate version using OCs up on the Sunday Snuggles livejournal. Hopefully this doesn't violate any rules about self-plagiarism that I should know of.