Title: Keeping Up Appearances
Fandom: Harry Potter, pre-Chamber of Secrets
Rating: G
Length: 1011
Content notes: This is silliness.
Author notes: None
Summary: Minerva McGonagall encounters Severus Snape on a trip to London.

      "Good heavens! Severus, is that you?" Minerva McGonagall quickened her step to pull even with a familiar black-cloaked figure. Despite the warmth of the day in Diagon Alley, Severus Snape had his hood up, pulled so far forward that just the end of his large nose braved the sunlight.

     "Minerva," he said softly. There was an unmistakable note of alarm in his tone, very similar to the one he had frequently had as a student when he was caught out. "I had no idea you were coming to London today." He shifted uncomfortably, undoubtedly from the heat of the day and that ridiculous hooded cloak.

     "You look as though you're about to wilt." She frowned. Her fellow teacher had a lamentable tendency to neglect his own well-being. "Shall we go back to the Leaky Cauldron, have a bit of refreshment?" She saw hesitation creep into his stance. Time to get his focus elsewhere, then, to get him inside. "I was reading a fascinating article in This Month in Modern Magic about an improvement in restoratives brewing by switching the order of the ingredients . Have you seen it?" She took half a step back toward the Leaky Cauldron.

     "Oh, yes." Severus said. "But their research was faulty." He took a half-step toward her.

     "Really? It seemed quite well-done to my eye. Of course, Pritchard was always a dilligent student. I always expected her to come back to teach." She took another leading step back. Severus took another step toward her.

     "Oh, her research was spot-on, but it's that prat Folderol. He's sloppy." Severus dropped into step alongside Minerva, the bit in his teeth. "I met him at a Potioneers' Convention two summers ago...." Minerva led Severus back to the tavern, gently goading him verbally to keep him interested in his rant on Folderol. It wasn't hard, really. Severus had an obsessive tendency, especially when it came to poorly-done work. Almost before he realized it, they were settling into one of the side rooms at the tavern, Tom quietly closing the door after he brought them their drinks. Severus looked down at his glass in slight bewilderment.

     "Severus, you look miserable, and it's no wonder since you're wearing a wool cloak in July. Do be sensible and take it off." Minerva had no qualms about slipping into her brisk, no-nonsense tone. Most men needed a firm hand, in particular the stubborn ones. He had halfway unfastened the clasp when he paused.

     "I'm trusting you to not say a single word to anyone about what you're about to see," Severus had his own no-nonsense tone, and Minerva inclined her head in silent agreement. Severus's mouth twitched slightly, and then he yanked off the cloak.

     She hadn't known what she had been expecting, really. An injury, perhaps, from a potioning mishap, since this had been beyond his usual need to protect his privacy. Her jaw very nearly dropped, though, when he revealed thick, soft, curling black waves of hair. It didn't improve his features, but it did give him an air of brooding, melancholic regalness that was surprisingly effective. There must have been something in her expression, because he rolled his eyes in mild annoyance as he hung up his cloak on the coat rack.

     "What on earth did you do to your hair?" she asked when she finally found her voice. Severus snorted and took a sip of sangria.

     "Washed it, like a halfway-civilized wizard. Do stop gaping, Minerva."

     "Gaping?! I should think not!" She closed her mouth with a snap. After a moment, she spoke again. "How long has it been like that?"
"My whole life, I suppose, though it filled out more toward adulthood." He made a sour face. "I was never properly clean as a small child, and puberty, well, that's just a bad time all around."

     "But why on earth did you keep it up?" She couldn't stop staring. Now that she was thinking on it, she had never noticed before that he had always smelled clean, despite the state of his lank, greasy hair. "When did you start?"

     "When I was a student. It was that little popinjay Lockhart, d'you remember him? He was a few years behind me, and in Ravenclaw, I think."

     "I remember Gilderoy Lockhart. He was rather hard to forget." It was the sad truth of teaching. Perfectly decent, likable average students became a blur, but the ones who caused trouble had a habit of sticking in the memory, even more so than the exceptionally bright and pleasant. "My, the swollen head on that boy...."

     "Precisely. He was so proud of his hair, and boasted about it constantly. Well, when he wasn't boasting about everything else." Severus poked at a sliced bit of orange in his glass. "One night, one of the fellows in my dormitory caught me right out of the bath, and started laughing at my hair, asked me if I was taking a page out of Lockhart's book." His mouth tightened into a small scowl. "I went right after the Sleekeazy's that minute. I put in enough so that there wouldn't be even a chance that a single curl would be missed."

     "But good heavens, why keep it up now?" She dearly wanted to tell him how distinguished he looked, and something clicked. "Ah. It would be harder to maintain such tight discipline in the dungeons if you didn't look the part." She unconsciously touched the tight bun of hair on the back of her head. "So you're out shopping?"

     "I am. I stopped using Sleekeazy's a while back, but Sleazeazy's is a bit harder to come by in most shops. I prefer the overall effect, though." He smirked. "You caught me before I had gotten down to Knockturn Alley."

     "Well, your secret will never be revealed by me, Severus. If anyone asks, I'll tell them that I don't ask after what Dark Arts you pursue in your leisure time." She shook her head. "But good heavens! Is it really worth near-collapse from the heat just to keep up appearances?".