“I’ve always thought your height came from your messy hair, Potter."
"Pity your wit disappeared along with your hair, Malfoy."
From my previous post, and more of that headcanon below:
Months after the war, their rivalry had somewhat softened, evolving into almost-amicable banter and mischief. Once, the Great Hall burst into laughter as two ball-shaped heads wandered the castle. This was a punishment from McGonagall during Transfigurations class, when Harry's misfired spell hit Draco's head, prompting swift retaliation. Surprisingly, Draco kept his buzzcut the next morning, and some days more.
Later, as a couple, Harry would sometimes wake up to see Draco's near-perfect oval head and feel a pang of longing for his platinum-blonde locks. They had always framed his face perfectly, but Harry loved this no less: the feel of his hands over Draco's prickly scalp, the change in the planes of his head, and the barely noticeable ridge from a scar on his temple.
When Draco woke, he’d always tell Harry why he shaved his hair. Sometimes though, Draco would keep to himself, lost in thought as he smooths a nonexistent strand over his ear. During these moments, Harry would find himself reaching for a muggle razor in their bathroom, and then returning to their kitchen with uneven patches. He’d always done a poor job, and Draco would mock him mercilessly before fixing it, a small grin forming on his lips.
“I’m still taller.”
“Only if you tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Fine.”
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