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Daily Drabble: Snanger Edition

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Her awful hair shed simply everywhere, despite her efforts to contain it in buns or under scarves. Severus was forever plucking umber-chestnut strands from his knife roll, unwinding them from stirring rods, brushing them out of cauldrons where they matted into dusty snarls. He would growl that he'd be able to polyjuice Lancashire if this kept up, and she would apologetically duck her head, flyaways glinting. In exasperation, he crafted a spell to remove Granger's hair from his laboratory, and if the strands formed into a slowly-fattening braid in his bedside table drawer, that was nobody's business but his own.