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Severus and Remus had been together for months. Though it began as a mutually beneficial working partnership (Severus provided the potions, Remus provided the customers), they ended up closer to each other than they had expected. This was why they were now lying in bed, Severus’s head pillowed in Remus’s lap, while Remus idly plaited his hair into a series of tiny, loose braids.
“I look ridiculous,” Severus muttered, pulling one of the braids forward to examine it.
“It’s your own fault for having such nice hair,” Remus teased, pulling apart the braid he was currently working on. “Why do you keep it long anyway?”
Severus made a non-committal noise. “Can’t be bothered to cut it.”
“Surely, there must be more?” Remus probed gently. He stopped braiding for a moment to tilt Severus’s face towards him.
“Perhaps I feel no need to conform to artificial standards of masculinity,” Severus rolled his eyes. “Even Lucius has long hair.”
“You aren’t him. Not even close.”
“Habit, then. You know the people I used to… Engage with.”
“I know, the head of the household keeps his hair long; it’s a longstanding pureblood tradition. Of course, the Malfoys prefer it. Something about…”
“Elegance. Or preserving it, that is.” Severus rolled his eyes. “I can’t be bothered to cut it;. I see no reason to. If others will judge me for this, then so be it, but I know exactly who and what I am.”
Remus smiled at him and gently undid the braids, gently combing his fingers through his lover’s hair. “I’m not judging you, Severus. I’m just curious.”
“You think I’m too sensitive,” Severus deadpanned.
“No--well, I think you’re fully aware of what others think of you. And over the years…” Remus hesitated briefly. “Over the years, I think you tried to make yourself stop caring. Because no one--no one ever had good words to say to you,” he finished softly.
“And I suppose you know,” Severus frowned.
“I do. You know that I do.” Remus ran a finger over Severus’s cheek, skimming his fingers over his lover’s skin. “Surprisingly, life as a trans, gay werewolf isn’t easy when half the world wants you dead. Then, of course, the rest of the world wants you dead for other reasons, mostly for being like you, but also for liking the wrong sorts of people.”
“So you’re making it worse for yourself by hooking up with a transsexual deviant who doesn’t care which bits do the actual shagging… Or does this have to do with the war crimes he committed along the way?” Severus snorted. “Wrong sorts of people indeed.”
Remus laughed. “I suppose you’re right, but I couldn’t resist your charming little smile.” He paused to look down at Severus, whose lips were twitching slightly. “See? That one.” Severus immediately began to scowl, which only made Remus laugh harder. “What? You try to resist it but end up smiling anyway. Your lips always twitch a little and your face scrunches up. Every time I see it, I feel so grateful. Whatever I did must be truly amusing if it made Severus Snape, master spy and grouchy dungeon bat, break his relentless poker face.”
“You are simply a relentless idiot,” Severus replied.
“Of course,” Remus said, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to Severus’s forehead, “But I’m your relentless idiot.”
“Hm.” The pair fell into a companionable silence as Remus continued to play with Severus’s hair. After the war, it had gotten ever longer; once, Remus had caught Severus experimenting with hair dying charms. The odd silver strand still escaped him, so Remus made an idle game of seeking them out. Severus didn’t seem to notice.
“It was my father,” Severus said, breaking the silence. Remus blinked but didn’t say anything, offering silent encouragement to continue. His hands stuttered briefly in their movements before continuing without a further hitch. “He… He was… When I was growing up, I had short hair. ‘Too short for a proper girl’, he would always say. And when I told him ‘I am a boy’--because I was sure, for as long as I could remember, that I was a boy--he scoffed and told me ‘Too long for a proper boy then.’” Severus paused, heaving a sigh. “It was strange. No matter what I did, he would not be happy. One day, he would wish I was a real boy. The next, a real girl. I wasn’t really sure what I was until I arrived at Hogwarts and they put me in the boy’s dormitory…”
“The castle knows, I reckon,” Remus agreed with a small smile. “It put me there too. I always had short hair, any longer was too much work to maintain, and we moved very often. No one ever asked, so no one ever found out. I never showered with the other boys, yet my friends never asked either. It was almost convenient that being a werewolf was my excuse for showering alone--almost. I could never decide whether it was worse to shower alone or to shower with everybody. It seemed like neither choice was a good one.”
“You,” Severus sat up and gave Remus a level glare, “Are thankful for far too many things that you should not be thankful for. Your life would be much easier if you were not a werewolf.”
“But then we wouldn’t be here,” Remus replied, gathering Severus into his arms again. “I wouldn’t have you.” Severus gave a short huff and didn’t say anything. This conversation was one they often had. “But--forgive me, I interrupted you.”
Severus gave him a long, searching stare, the kind that he used so effectively to make people think he was rifling through the contents of their brain like a book. “... I suppose it is one way of telling people that I will never conform to what they think I should be.” He let it grow unchecked for the most part. It was his shield from the world. When everyone stared at him at school, when people mocked him for his over-large nose or his crooked teeth, he let his head fall forward not in shame, but to put a barrier of inky black between himself and the world. It was the one refuge he could carry with him anywhere. He had considered cutting it before, but then, Lucius grew out his own hair. When they were younger, Severus had fancied Lucius as some kind of elven prince that deigned to grace the halls of Hogwarts with his royal presence. Of course, this image was thoroughly trampled by time, but he never lost his affinity for long hair. Besides, there were other reasons beyond aesthetics that he kept his hair long. Severus was the last of the Princes and the last of the Snapes. He could keep his hair long as the head of the household, just like Lucius. In some way, it was his excuse.
“I like your hair,” Remus murmured. “I know I tell you that a lot. But I like it.”
Severus closed his eyes and leaned in, hiding his face in the crook of Remus’s neck. He had his reasons for his hair, layers and layers of them; while all of them bore some small ring of truth, it was only together that they made a whole. “I wouldn’t dare cut it anyway.”