A bed-time story by Jateshi
A Story of Severus and Lucius and the Evil Marauders, as Told By an Annoying Narrator
Once upon a time, there was a man who had really gorgeous hair. His name was Lucius. It was really, really nice hair. Shiny, and blond but not too blond. And he could put it back with a bow and he didn't look girly.
Many people were jealous of Lucius' hair, and if you'd seen it, you'd be jealous too. No charm could make anyone's hair as nice as Lucius', and his came free-of-charge.
One of the people who admired Lucius' hair the most was a boy named Severus. Severus, like anyone not Lucius, didn't have the best hair. His hair was greasy but the compensation was that he was a whiz with potions and spells. Not a bad trade, really, but he could've taken better hair.
The people most jealous of Lucius' hair were people who didn't get to see it all the time - non-Slytherins. They were jealous and they wanted to see Lucius' hair more but they wouldn't put aside their pride and just admit how stupid they all were. So Lucius punished them by not letting them see his hair.
The days and months passed, Lucius rewarding those who properly admitted he was the best person with visions of his hair and punishing those who said he was stupid by not letting them see his hair. Students cried when they found their eyes unable to see the beauty of Lucius' hair and most of the time sent apologetic owls post-haste. James Potter, a non-Slytherin who was most certainly not one of the people who ever got to see Lucius' hair, threw a fit one night. Everyone was remarking about how gorgeous Lucius hair was and he - and his fellow Gryffindor friends - couldn't see it. Even Snape, who had bad hair, could see it!
Petitioning the Headmaster did nothing, since the Headmaster was one of the people who was never blessed with Lucius' hair. His Head of House, likewise, couldn't help him at all. So instead he enlisted the help of his fellow not-blessed-with-the-sight-of-Lucius'-hair friends and concocted an evil plan. A plan to make Lucius' hair ugly.
It took a lot of work, trying to make Lucius' hair ugly. They laboured day and night, working on potions and spells, hexes and curses, but from the exclamations of everyone who could see Lucius' hair, it was only getting more gorgeous and perfect. Which really, James grumbled into his soup, was unfair. So then they decided to pick on their favourite target - Severus - and make him help them. Since he could see Lucius' hair, they reasoned, he was a better person to use to try and hurt Lucius' hair.
After surrounding Severus, the not-blessed-with-Lucius'-hair Gryffindors insulted him for a while using words not suitable for late-night stories. Severus never gave up though, the memory of just how perfect Lucius' hair was a shield that protected him. Severus bravely closed his eyes, picturing Lucius' hair in his mind as the Gryffindors tried to make him say something about Lucius' hair. It was shiney, and silky, and faintly smelled of leather and rough soap, the epitome of elegance. He pictured it so clearly in his mind that when he opened his eyes he half expected to be staring at nothing, able to still smell Lucius' hair.
Instead he was greeted with a little silk bow holding back a thick ponytail of luxurious perfect hair, the hair attached to Lucius' head (as it rightly should be) and the head (as well as it rightly should be) firmly attached to Lucius' body. There was nothing better that could've brightened Severus' day (except perhaps his hair deciding to look better than it did at the moment) than seeing Lucius standing right there, in all his perfect-hair glory. And Lucius conveniently pointing his wand at James and his friends was a definate added bonus to the whole night. Lucius hexed them, his voice (which was almost as perfect as his hair, but really, nothing could compare to his hair) enunciating the spells clearly.
Then he turned to look at Severus, his hair flashing and whipping about in a delicate-yet-manly manner as he turned, and smiled. It was a semi-smile, in the grand scale of what a Malfoy looked like when they smiled, but it was a lot nicer than a sneer and certainly even better to be on the receiving end of than a glare. Severus was pretty sure Lucius said something, but Lucius was leaning over and lightly giving him a peck on the forehead and for the first time Severus felt Lucius' hair.
It was silk and lace (manly lace, mind you), and very soft and it eclipsed all sound and sense because it was brushing against his chin. He stared as Lucius walked back to the commons then, that perfect hair swishing and swashing as Lucius walked, hastily picking up his pace when the older Slytherin deliberately paused and looked back at him. Lucius smiled as he came up to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder for a moment in a protective and sort of possessive sort of way.
He let Severus touch his hair before they fell asleep, patting the younger boy with a smile on his lips (it was still that half-smile, really) and saying he could always see his hair.
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