Chapter Two - Lussuria's Hair Cut (Harry's PoV)

I was the only person in when they visited again. There were only four of us that worked here anyway. Daniela was off sick, it was Alberto's day off and Emilia had vanished again. It was a slow day anyway, so it wasn't too much to handle myself. I was just seeing off the last customer of the day when the flamboyant green-haired man from before came in clutching a bag, wailing and drenched in blood. The leaving customer dashed for the door. I sighed, and flipped the sign to 'Closed'. This was going to be a long job.

"How can I help you? I'm afraid I didn't catch your name last time,' I said with my best customer smile as I showed him to the sofas. I even managed not to wince at the blood he smeared all over them as he flung himself down.

"I'm Lussuria! And it's simply dreadful. That awful man bled all over me. The uniform is probably ruined! I have no idea how to get all of this out of my hair without using peroxide. I can't bleach my hair, Harry-chan! And Bel cut it! Cut it! I told that little menace to be careful with his knives, but will he listen? I can't go back to headquarters with my hair like this! It's a disaster." Lussuria was sobbing dramatically. Harry took a deep breath and shifted to mission mode. He sorted out what needed to be done, making a quick list in his head.

"You need to get clean then. Do you have a change of clothes? I don't think any of my spares will fit you."

Lussuria held up his bag with a triumphant grin. Without any warning, he started to wriggle out of his bloodstained leather. Harry just turned his back politely. Living in a dorm with communal showers, and then fighting in war with limited bathing facilities, had pretty much removed most of his body shyness. Lussuria pouted at his lack of reaction when he turned back around. Had he been expecting Harry to blush and faint or something?

Harry was glad to see that Lussuria was wearing boxers and a tank top, and that despite the mess his clothes had been, he himself was mostly blood-free. Harry handed him a damp cloth to wipe away the little blood that had made it past the leather, while he took the leather clothes himself.

"Do you want me to try to clean these here, or do you want to take them to a professional?"

"Don't worry about it, Harry-chan, I'll have someone take care of it. Could you just put it in a bag for me, pretty please?"

The sight of him batting his eyelashes was just disturbing, as was his instance on using a Japanese suffix, especially one Harry was fairly sure was for girls. Harry carefully didn't think about it as he dumped the clothes in a plastic bag, and then in another to make sure nothing leaked. With that done, Harry turned back to his customer. Except for his hair, he was pretty much clean now, and redressing himself in an identical (but clean) uniform. Time to get to his actual job.

"So what do you want doing with your hair today?" When in doubt, fall back on the classics.

"I need this mess cleaning. And restyling. Can you even up the mess that little monster made?"

Harry couldn't tell what the damage might be under all of the blood, but he was sure that he could work something out. As he smiled and reassured Lussuria (Lust? Really? As fake names went, it wasn't even subtle), he ran through his options in his head. He would rather stick with muggle options, but he would probably have to use a potion to clean the blood out. It was a good thing he wasn't squeamish - he was fairly sure that there was some brain tissue stuck in Lussuria's hair. The man shouldn't notice that he was using a potion instead of normal hair product - it was in a generic shampoo bottle. And restyling the hair shouldn't be a problem, no matter what the crazy prince had done to it.

Harry got Lussuria settled in a chair and prepared to wash his hair.

"I don't need to see you to kill you, you know," the man warned as he took off his glasses. His tone was joking, but Harry had no doubt that he was deadly serious. The blood drenching him had been a hint that the man might be dangerous. His Gryffindor curiosity was burning him fiercely about these people, and only his Slytherin survival instincts were keeping his mouth shut.

"I'm sure. I have a shampoo that will clean the blood out. It's a lot gentler than peroxide, but it will still remove the colour. Would you like me to dye your hair today? I have quite a few greens to choose from, or other colours if you feel like a change. Perhaps a nice bright yellow?"

Harry wasn't quite sure why he recommended yellow, instead of more common hair dyes like blue or purple. It seemed to be a bad move, given the way Lussuria stiffened.

"Why yellow?" His voice was completely serious, no trilling or flirting. The contrast was startling, and disconcerting.

"For your sunny personality? If you don't think that it would suit you, there are a lot of other colours to choose from." Harry tried to placate the suddenly intimidating customer, hoping to smooth over whatever offence he had inadvertently caused.

"I'll stick with green, thank you Harry-chan." Although the flamboyant persona was back, the man didn't relax as Harry finished washing his hair and the last of the pink (and disturbingly lumpy) water washed down the drain.

Harry tried to figure out his mistake as he dried Lussuria's hair. Did the man not like yellow? It wasn't a common colour for hair dye, but the man was the furthest thing from conventional Harry had ever seen, so Harry hadn't thought he'd find the idea offensive.

Lussuria's hair was quite short, so it didn't take long to dry. Harry could see where the front part of his fringe had been cut off. If this had been done by the teenage prince's knives, the man was lucky not to have lost an eye. Dodging was probably a required skill for entrance into whatever they were involved in. Harry quickly got to work evening out the hair, reshaping the fringe slightly rather than removing length from the whole thing. Once he had finished, he left Lussuria cooing at the result in the mirror while he went to fetch the book of dye colours.

Lussuria quickly picked out the green he wanted and Harry applied it. His habitual use of magic prevented it dripping or smearing onto his skin or the shaved part of his head. It also meant that the developing time was cut in half, so it wasn't long before he was rinsing the dye out, drying the hair again, and styling the fringe to give it the volume that Lussuria asked for. When he'd finished, Lussuria was declaring his new look 'absolutely fabulous, Harry-chan, you're a miracle worker!' As Harry turned to lead the man to the desk to pay, he felt a blinding pain in the back of his head. His last thought before blacking out was annoyance. He had gotten soft. Why had he thought it was a good idea to turn his back on these people again?

I'm kind of overwhelmed at the response the last chapter got. Thank you for reading! Let me know if there's anything you want to see in this fic - I have a rough outline but no definite plans for it yet.