“I do love the smell of hair dye,” sighs Pansy. Draco, head in her porcelain sink, has to disagree.
“It smells like- ammonia,” he says through his growing lightheadedness- half from the smell and half from the odd tilt of his neck. It smells a bit like the bathroom-Sectumsempra, Draco reflects. Pansy tells him to stand up, and he complies. He glances at the tainted sink, lingering on the contrast between the white porcelain and the ink black pool of dye. Draco turns to the mirror. “Oh god,” he says. His hair is jet black, dripping ink onto his shirt. Black hair contrasts his pale face no less than dye to white sink. Pansy is crowing, pleased with herself. She talks about her vision and trusting the process. She tells Draco that he’ll see once she does his eyebrows to match.
Draco will remain sceptical until Pansy vanishes the stains from her hands and dries Draco’s hair with a spell. Then, he decides she was right all along. He looks younger than his 20 years somehow. His face looks more angular, cheekbones even more defined. His agent will be thrilled.
Pansy Park Son (팬지 박손) worked at Gringotts. She was a hair stylist on the side. Her parents had cut her a rather messy looking baby bangs the second she had enough hair ( it’s a right of passage, every east asian I know had bangs at some point). Pansy had stuck with the look ever since, although she traded her thick baby bangs for a lighter, adult fringe. Although she was rigid in her own hair, she adored experimenting on other people. Her experiments were often prolific. She was in her mullet craze, having given Draco one only a few months before. Usually I think women look the best in mullets, but Christ Draco.
“This is my favourite look,” she gushed, talking about his black hair. It was a bit shorter than usual. Draco found himself uncomfortably thinking about Potter’s hair. The length was similar, and Pansy had even cut layers for volume. “You look like a whole different person!” Draco smiles at her.
“Not like Potter I hope,” Draco teases. Pansy desperately wants to cut Potter’s hair. Draco hopes people will look at him and think, Pansy Park Son did that.
“Pansy Park Son did this.” Draco smiles sheepishly. He’s referring to his hair of course, but also the black eyeliner outlining his waterline. The photographer does not look pleased. He is old and traditional looking.
“Can we glamour it?” He asks hopefully. “Or are you a rebel like your father?” Every Malfoy heir has gotten a personal photoshoot. Draco remembers him as a young child, flipping through his parents’ issue. Lucius had refused to do the photos without Narcissa, and Draco had stared at the young faces of his parents late into the night. The tradition was ridiculous to Draco, especially as a model. And yet, Draco could not deny the significance of these photoshoots. Nicholas Malfoy’s iconic smirk was widely known, mimicked by many Malfoy’s later on. Lucius’ photoshoot with his wife while they were still Hogwarts students had altered wizarding pop culture as an act of high romance.
“I’m nothing like my father,” Draco responds.
“Suppose not, at least he looked like a Malfoy.” The photographer says.
“I want you to use a muggle camera.” Draco says. At first, the photographer is outraged.
“I know you’re a model, I’ve seen your stuff.” The photographer, who Draco learns is named Theodore (I have a friend named Theodore, Draco had said excitedly), says. “You use Wizard cameras- your pictures move all the time.” But Draco makes his wishes clear, and Theodore eventually gives in.
Theodore’s sour mood lifts when he realises Draco’s ability as a professional model. He requires little direction. Draco knows exactly what he wants his photos to look like, and he requests Theodore to transfigure items for the scene. Draco suspects the elder photographer realises Draco’s commitment to this photoshoot- to make it a work of art. When they’re done, Theodore says,
“You’re rebellious like your father. But you’re also different.”
“Different how?”
“I liked you. I liked today. You’re also the only Malfoy to ask for my name. I think this photoshoot could be special.” Draco smiles at the photographer’s admission.
DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY
Draco’s agent touches the Malfoy crest on the glossy magazine cover. The cover is the same as all the other Malfoy heirs save for its name: his name. Draco smiles as his agent gasps as she turns to the first page.
“You’ve outdone yourself!” Gia crows joyfully. “Even more brands will beg to work with you after these,” she says confidently. Flipping through the pages, she gushes and coos.
”And even more people will want to fuck you,” Pansy says. They’re in a familiar place, her flat. Draco’s agent is sitting in a chair as Pansy practically dances with scissors. A lock of brown hair falls onto the magazine and Gia wipes it away.
”Everyone already wants to fuck me,” Draco sniffs, because it’s true. Pansy wrinkles her nose but doesn’t fight him on it, because it’s true.
Harry receives the Malfoy issue with his mail at the Auror office. He opens it, more curiosity than genuine interest. The pictures are breathtaking. The man in the images doesn’t even look like Malfoy. Harry knows Malfoy is a model, and has seen his face on hundreds of billboards and posters. Draco Malfoy is a poster boy. He’s always done those brand deals, they aren’t anything like this. This is art. Draco Malfoy is the artist, and the art. Flipping quickly through the book, Harry realises the entire magazine is filled with pages of Malfoy. Harry goes back to the first image, taking it all in.
In the first photo, Malfoy lies in a field of flowers. Harry knows they are Narcissa flowers. His eyes pierce through paper. The image is still, and Harry realises it’s a muggle photo. Malfoy’s hair is blonde and black, like his mothers. The dark mark is expertly concealed tucked underneath flowers. Harry turns the page. In the second photo, Malfoy’s hair is glamoured blonde. It is long and makes a makeshift blindfold over his eyes. Harry turns the page.
Throughout this issue, although I have used glamours on my features, I have not chosen to alter my dark mark. The following images are not censored. View at your own discretion.
Harry turns the page. The images are no less beautiful. The last picture is the most compelling. Malfoy holds a black German Shepherd. He smiles widely. Stunned, Harry thinks of Sirius. It can’t be- but it is. Through the black hair, Harry reflects that Draco does look like a Black. From what Harry can remember, more so Regulus than Sirius.
I am half Black as much as I am half Malfoy.
At lunch break, Draco Malfoy is all anyone can talk about. Draco Malfoy is all Harry can think about.
Pansy Park Son does Ginny Weasly’s hair. Ginny traded her rather assuming copper hair for a bold blood red mullet. It suits her. Harry is friends with Ginny Weasly, so offhandedly one day, he asks her,
“Do Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy still talk?” Ginny gives him a knowing look. “You know, the photoshoot,” Harry says, like he’s defending himself. To his relief, Ginny starts talking about how the photoshoot is high art.
As if the universe had set it up, Harry sees Malfoy. Not on a billboard, not in a magazine. He finds Malfoy in a pub one day. Harry’s with Ron and Hermione. Actually, Hermione sees Malfoy first.
“Look, there’s Malfoy.” She says offhandedly. Beside her, Ron gives a low whistle. Malfoy sits on one of the bar stools, talking to Pansy and Blaise. He looks posed somehow, even though he’s just sitting. There’s no denying it, Draco Malfoy is beautiful. Somehow he makes the casual clothes he’s wearing look incredible, and Harry gets why brands fight to work with him.
Harry self consciously adjusts his own posture, straightening his back. Harry’s shocked to see Malfoy with black hair for some reason. Harry had thought the black hair had been a glamour, him looking like Regulus Black was only temporary. It had not occurred to Harry that Malfoy would have black hair outside the context of his photoshoot.
“I want to talk to Pansy,” Ron says sheepishly. “I think I’m starting to lose my hair, wonder if she can do something about it. She did Ginny’s hair, after all.” (Harry thinks of Arthur’s shiny head with a few stragglers of wispy copper hairs) Ron stands.
“Potter’s looking at you,” Pansy tells Draco under her breath. Draco fights the urge not to look. Instead, he looks at Blaise, who is looking at him as well. They smirk at each other.
“Coast is clear,” Pansy tells them. Draco and Blaise stare at the Golden Trio. Suddenly, Weasley stands. He and Pansy talk, oddly, about hair treatment. Pansy tells him she’s not a hairstylist (she works in a bank) but she’ll see what she can do.
“How come you won’t quit your job and just become a hairstylist?” Blaise asks Pansy. “We all know you love the smell of hair dye.” Pansy is quiet. Blaise likes his hair short, but he lets Pansy mess with it sometimes.
“Same reason why Draco will stare at Harry Potter and not do anything about it,” Pansy says. Draco tears his eyes off Potter. He smiles sweetly at Pansy before walking up to Potter.
7 years later
Draco is 27 years old when he gets proposed to. Theodore is the wedding photographer. Pansy went to a muggle cosmetology school. Ron now has the thickest hair in his family (Pansy found a formula to hair growth and retention). Blaise still likes his hair short, but sports dreadlocks to let Pansy practice. Draco is still a model, and his photoshoot pictures are the most iconic piece of pop culture in a long time. The most famous image isn’t the flower field, not the one where he looks like his father, not the one with the dog. It’s a picture in the middle. Draco is smirking at something Theodore suggested. The Draco smirk becomes iconic, much to his exasperation.