Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does.

"You know," Daphne mused as she combed her fingers through her boyfriend's raven locks from where he was laying his head on her lap as they relaxed on the couch, "your hair's getting quite long mister."

Harry hummed sleepily, having grown drowsy under his girlfriend's touch. "Well, with Kingsley ordering a quarantine it's not like I can go to Faisal's and get it cut."

Harry Potter could honestly say that Faisal Tiryaki, owner of Berbers Barber Shop in Diagon Alley, was an absolute legend. Since the summer of his third year when he stayed at the Leaky Cauldron and walked into Berbers Barbers, he had gone to the man whenever the situation required, and no one else had cut his hair since. Well, with the exception of Hermione when they were hunting horcruxes, no one else had cut his hair. And every time, the same sequence of events occurred.

Harry would sit in the chair when called by Faisal's gruff, accented tones and meet the man's gaze in the mirror in front of him, where he would ask Faisal for a three back and sides, with a little taken off the top to keep his fringe out of his eyes. Every visit, the same request. And every time, Faisal would nod his head once, flick his wand twice, and animate an array of grooming accessories to jump to attention like soldiers saluting their captain, before descending on Harry's scalp with the furore of a house elf confronted with a dusty room.

Honestly, he almost crapped himself the first time he saw a pair of scissors that more closely resembled a tool used for shearing sheep than trimming human hair zoom towards his forehead.

Whilst Harry's hair was besieged by Faisal's animated army of shears and combs, Faisal would grumble about whatever facet of the modern world had irritated him that morning. Harry learnt rather quickly to simply agree with whatever Faisal said. His favourite topics were generally:

The lack of flying carpets in Britain. "I remember back in '32 when they were banned, had to throw a perfectly functional Hungarian Herringbone. Let me tell you boy, the stitching on that rug was as delicate as a bowtruckle's finger."

Followed by the Department of Magical Transportation. "If a wizard wants to charm the matted rug in his living room to fly him from Windsor to Whitby, then by God he should be allowed to do so!"

And concluded with the younger generation. "You see them nowadays, whizzing through the air on ruddy twigs with stupid, flashy names like Comets and Nimbus' as if they own the bloody world. We used to fly on carpets boy, not lumps of dead wood! Sure, the charm work involved was shoddy and like to fail mid-flight, but it gave us a healthy respect for the skies! Kids these days have no respect, no respect at all, flying around without a bloody care in the world."

Admittedly, almost all of Faisal's gripes revolved around flying carpets, but Harry was still treated to an extremely amusing tirade each time.

When Faisal was finished, he demanded thirteen sickles and ordered Harry from his salon without a care in the world. Not once had he asked Harry his name, nor gave any impression that he actually knew who Harry was.

Every time, the same routine. It was perfect.

Kingsley Shacklebolt quarantining all magical Britain however, meant that Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and any wizarding shop had been closed for near to two months. In fairness to the Minister of Magic, when a variant of the magical budweiservirus (known technically as Budvid-19) swept across Europe, he had to do something so that the healers at St Mungo's weren't overwhelmed and could focus on brewing an antidote.

It also meant, as Harry's long term girlfriend Daphne Greengrass had highlighted, his hair was starting to grow out of control.

"You'll be able to put it up in a top knot if you leave it much longer," she teased. He opened his eyes to see her own Cerulean ones sparkling with mirth down at him.

"You think?" Harry queried. "Would that be something you'd be… interested in?" He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, grinning when her head tilted backwards, and her nose scrunched up as she laughed.

"As lovely as I find your hair Harry, I like it best when its shorter," she chuckled. Daphne lightly scratched the top of his scalp when making her point.

Harry closed his eyes again and sighed in contentment. Having Daphne stay with him during lockdown had been a blessing, and he found himself becoming more and more hopelessly in love with her every day.

"Well, when Faisal reopens you can have short hair Harry back but for now, you're stuck with long hair Harry," he joked.

The comfortable silence that had existed before Daphne's remark settled over 12 Grimmauld Place again, disturbed only by the scraping sound of Daphne turning the pages of the current book she was invested in.

"If you like I could cut it for you."

…

What?

"Me?" Harry queried.

"Yeah."

"My hair." Harry clarified.

"Yes?"

"You want to cut my hair?"

"If you ask me again, I'm going to hex you." Daphne had pulled her hand away with a frown, and Harry sat up as he felt his cosy afternoon cuddling with his girlfriend dissipating by the second.

"No, no, it's just that you've surprised me," Harry hurriedly explained, "I mean have you ever cut hair before?"

Daphne pulled at a loose thread on her turquoise, woollen sweater, chewing her lip slightly. "Well, not exactly… but I've read Boris Barber's A Gentleman's Guide to Grooming! A-and I also cut Astoria's pet crup's fur when I was fourteen after he accidentally drank a hair lengthening solution.

Harry was quiet for a moment, trying to process the splurge of information his girlfriend had just deposited into the conversation.

"… Alright let's do it," he sighed.

Daphne squealed in excitement, and Harry suddenly found himself cocooned in a warm hug before receiving a peck on the lips when Daphne drew back.

"Ok, I've just got to go and get set up, I'll meet you in the drawing room!" Daphne rushed out of the sitting room, leaving Harry still slightly confused about the new direction their day had taken.

"It's two swishes and a jab, followed by-" Daphne paused as Harry, staring at the bottled green wall in front of him, felt the hair on the left side of his head shoot upright as if electrocuted. "Well, that certainly wasn't supposed to happen."

Daphne gave a nervous chuckle before soldiering on, muttering wand movements under her breath.

Things happening that weren't supposed to happen seemed to be a recurrent theme of Harry's haircut. As soon as Harry felt all the hair on the back of his head fall off five seconds after the first twitch of Daphne's wand, he began to suspect that his three back and sides with a little off the top to keep his fringe out of his eyes wasn't going to happen.

"Oh Merlin no!" Daphne cried out, seeing one of the razors that she had been trying to wrestle into submission for the past thirteen minutes slice the side of Harry's neck as it whizzed out of control.

"Finite Incantatem!"

All the hairdressing accessories that had mutinied and been parading around Harry's face dropped lifelessly to the floor. Harry heard Daphne sniffling as she set about tidying up his neck, whispering basic first aid spells to siphon away the blood and stitch the damaged skin together.

"Daphne?" Harry called quietly.

He received no response, so called again, this time more insistently.

"What?" she mumbled.

"You don't need to get upset, my neck doesn't hurt that much," Harry lied. His neck was stinging something rotten, but it hurt far less than seeing Daphne upset over an honest accident.

Harry felt a finger poke the newly stitched skin in response, eliciting a surprised yelp.

"Liar," Daphne muttered, waving her wand to vanish the loose hair that had fallen to the floor.

Harry stood up and held her hands in his. "C'mon sweetheart, it was an accident. I've had worse during quidditch practice."

Daphne looked at the floor, hiding her delicate features behind her long blond tresses that fell over her face. "It's not that I cut you, although I am upset about that too."

It took some coaxing from Harry before Daphne would say just what was troubling her, by which time both had moved into the cavernous underground kitchen in 12 Grimmauld Place and were seated at the wooden table there, holding steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Daphne blew on her mug, watching the whisps of steam dance away from the lip of her mug.

"I just… I feel like I'm useless. Skills wise that is. I can't do anything most other girls can do, and I sometimes feel as though you deserve better. I read all those books on cutting hair and really wanted to have that one thing that I could say I was good at."

Harry stared at Daphne with his mouth agape. "Daphne, you are everything that I deserve, more than I deserve even. You are amazing at so many things-"

Daphne barked out a humourless laugh. "Harry, I can't even cook the most basic meal. Remember that time I tried to make pasta for us and blew up the saucepan, I didn't even know a cast iron saucepan could be destroyed like that! And it was pasta! Not something complicated like a roast!"

"I wouldn't really call a roast complicated Daphne."

"Exactly! And I can't even do that!"

"Ok look," Harry interjected, "None of that matters, I didn't ask you out all those years ago because I thought you were an apprentice chef, or an incognito hairdresser or anything else. If I was don't you think we would have broken up already."

Harry said this with an amused inflection in his voice but Daphne's lips, rather than rising upwards, began to tremble dangerously.

Great, thought Harry, well done Potter. Not for the first time Harry wished he had inherited James Potter's famed ability to dig himself out of any holes he fell in.

Harry cupped Daphne's cheeks with his hands, wiping the stray tears that had swam out of her eyes with his thumbs.

"I love you Daphne, I love you so very much, more than anything else. Even if I have to cook every meal we ever have that's not going to change. You are so talented though. I don't know anyone else's girlfriends who are so good at healing spells that they can stitch up a cut like the one you gave me earlier in under a minute."

Daphne bit her lip, her eyes shining brightly as they gazed at Harry. "You really think so?"

"Oh yeah," Harry responded eagerly, "you should see Hermione whenever Ron gets a knock when the Weasleys play quidditch. Don't tell her I told you this, but she tends to swing between bouts of incandescent rage and inconsolable worry before flooing over to the Burrow so that Molly can have a look at him."

Daphne gave a small grin. "I guess I am pretty good at healing spells aren't I."

"Pretty good?" Harry questioned with a raised eyebrow, "That didn't sound like a Daphne with much self-confidence to me." Harry poked her side gently.

"Ok very good at healing spells," she laughed, "happy now?"

"Of course I'm happy sweetheart," Harry smiled whilst pulling Daphne into a tight hug, "I have the best girlfriend in the world," he finished quietly.

Daphne burrowed into his neck, squeezing him even tighter. "Don't you think you're laying it on a bit thick now."

"Well, if you're going to be so defeatist I don't have much choice now do I? Honestly if you feel useless there's not much hope for the rest of us is there?"

Daphne chuckled again, tucking herself into his side and resting her head on his shoulder, where they rested peacefully.

"I really am sorry about your hair though darling."

Harry shrugged, "I haven't seen it yet, for all I know this could be a great haircut, worthy of the great Faisal Tiryaki himself."

Daphne snorted. "It really isn't, whole chunks of hair are missing, the right side of your head is neon blue, half of the rest looks like you were struck by lightning whilst the other looks like a perm. Even the top knot would have been better than this."

"Oi, don't knock the top knot," Harry grinned, "I'm not sure we gave it enough of a shot. I suppose I can always take a hair lengthening solution or vanish the whole lot off if it's that dire."

Daphne then started giggling, prompting a bemused smile from her boyfriend. "I was just imagining the article Witch Weekly would publish if they saw your new look."

"Oh Merlin," groaned Harry, "I cannot believe you still have a subscription to that magazine! I haven't been out in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade for months, and they still write about me!"

Daphne couldn't contain herself and burst into laughter at that.

"Still," Harry mused, "maybe if I go out like this, they'll be shocked into removing me from their Most Attractive Magicians page."

"Oh, not at all, I can see the page now," Daphne smiled, before altering her voice to that of an exuberant radio announcer's: "Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, only twenty-two years old, stuns Witch Weekly readers with his audacious new style. He encapsulates the confidence of the modern wizard in the post war era, sporting multi-coloured hair with numerous styles of different lengths and-"

Daphne would have continued, but Harry chose that moment to unleash a round of tickling at his girlfriend to halt her enthused spiel, causing Daphne to shriek and wriggle out of his reach.

By the time Daphne had escaped, both were breathing heavily with Daphne's hair strewn across her face. Harry pointed this out.

"Your hair's a bit long as well come to think of it Daph."

"I normally get an inch or two off around this time," Daphne hummed, holding the ends in front of her face between her knuckles.

Harry was quiet for a moment before a smirk slowly grew on his face.

"If you like, I could have a go at cut-"

"Try it Potter, and you'll be sleeping on the couch until lockdown ends!"

Hello everyone, I had the idea for this little one shot during the height of COVID but didn't get round to writing it until now. Hope you all enjoyed, and I'd appreciate reading any thoughts you had.

This is the first fanfic I've written and uploaded. I've had some ideas for stories for a few years now but considering that it was Haphne that first got me into reading stories on this site, I thought having the first story I post be a Haphne one shot would be a nice homage of sorts to those stories that acted as the gateway for all others that I have read.

At the moment I'm not sure if I'll post anymore fanfiction. I never like reading unfinished stories but also cannot commit to starting anything I might not finish. I think I will only release chapters of something when it's basically finished, that way I know that if I do upload something it will be complete.

Anyway, thanks for reading.