Chapter Text
Bonded Ink
Hermione Granger gnawed on her bottom lip as she stared at the infamous tattoo parlor across the street. White Dragon Tattoo parlor had risen in the past few years, whispers of the amazing artists and the creative, unique qualities to their ink made them the most talked about tattoo shop in the wizarding world. The owner - a nameless man - had imbued magic into the ink so that the tattoos would move , just like a magic photo, across a person’s body. Hermione had seen it for herself when Theo showed off a particularly special tattoo.
Atop his chest where his heart would be located, he had a knot of sorts made with rope placed along with a text in Latin, The Family You Choose . The knot moved around on itself but never untangled itself. Hermione had stared in awe at the magic of it all. That was when she realized she wanted something.
Theo warned her though that once a tattoo was placed upon her skin, there was no going back and the need for another would arise. It was its own form of an addiction. At first, Hermione had thought ‘ Hogwash’ , but the more she researched, the more she found herself reading tales of how many had been under the inking gun, pain radiating from the needle, and yet walked away wanting more.
But standing before this hole in the wall building, she found herself hesitating more and more. Eagerness had her rooted to her spot, while her mind played with the scenarios of what may happen. If she hadn’t been looking for it, she would have bypassed the old brick building squished between other shops in Diagon Alley. It was tame, simple - ivy covering the bricks in some of the areas and the large window that faced her was obviously a special window. She couldn’t see in, but she was confident that whoever was in there could see her.
Chastising herself, she threw her arms to her side and stood taller. “You’re a Gryffindor, Granger. Get your ass in there.” She stuck her hand into the back pocket of her jeans locating the small paper with the ideas she had been playing with for the past month written in scribble. With one look for oncoming traffic, she crossed the road and went straight for the worn wooden door.
A bell above her head announced her arrival as she walked through. Inside, she was pleasantly surprised by the calm atmosphere within. Music was playing on some sort of speaker, but it was quiet and mellow - instrumental, but not classical. The walls were painted a dark gray which would have been slightly daunting except for the natural light coming through the wide window from the front. The front desk person had their head bent over some piece of paper and greeted her without looking up, letting her know she’ll be just a moment.
Hermione took the moment to continue to look around. She found artwork plastering the walls. As she glanced about she noticed the different styles of art. One artist seemed to press heavily on old fashion tattoo styles and that of the trash polka style - thick lines with bright colors. Another artist seemed to specialize in realism and black and white - ranging from portraits of loved ones to celebrities to pets. The last one was more delicate - lines were thinner with very precise details and colors were more on the softer side.
As she was studying a portrait of a particular tattoo, a dragon climbing over someone’s shoulder, she heard the receptionist come walking up beside her. Turning slightly, she was surprised to see Pansy Parkinson standing beside her.
“Well, Hermione Granger, as I live and breathe,” she breathed with a Cheshire grin tugging at her lips. “Who would have thought Gryffindor’s Golden Girl would be walking into our establishment.” Hermione heated at the hated nickname but found herself intrigued as Pansy seemed to rock on her heels in excitement. “Are you here to get inked?”
Hermione nodded as her eyes went back to the art literally the entryway. “I am.”
“Have you been tattooed before?” Hermione shook her head. “Do you have any idea of what you’re wanting?”
“I’ve got a few ideas but thought I’d talk with the artist about the ideas,” she responded quietly, eyes still tracing over the artwork before her.
“And which artist are you selecting?” Pansy smirked as she took them back to the front desk where she pulled out a rather large scheduling book. Quill and ink in her hand, she glanced back up at Hermione.
“I’ll be honest I don’t know who is who, but I find that I like that artist’s style.” She pointed toward the corner with the artwork with the fine detail rested.
Pansy paused, eyebrows rising high over her gaze. “You’re telling me you want -”
“Parkinson!” Hermione froze as a voice from the past came haunting her from the hallway, right beside the receptionist. Slowly, she swiveled her head to see a familiar head of blonde hair sauntering from the hall. He didn’t seem to notice her as he went straight for Pansy with several pieces of paper in his hand.
“I’ve got a client tomorrow and I need stock of these colors,” he continued talking, rattling off a list of items he’d need. Hermione got lost as she took in the man standing before her. Last time she’d seen him he’d been tall, sure, but lanky and so very thin . That’d been at his trial seven years ago. Yet the person standing before her seemed almost a stranger. If it weren’t for his familiar white blonde hair and his glacial gray eyes, she’d never recognize him. Draco Malfoy.
He had definitely filled out if the white shirt hugging his biceps was anything to go by. She could see the tattoos littered across his pale skin. Runes were climbing up one of his forearms - Naudhiz, unfulfilled desire , Mannaz, support , Laguz, chaos, Othalan , heritage , and Dagaz, hope . Hermione recognized every single one from one of her reads and was surprised by part of his selection, and unsurprised by others. As her gaze skated up his arm to his neck, she saw a dragon peaking it’s snout out around his neck, over the neck of his shirt. Her eyes widened as she watched a snort release smoke that curled up the back of Malfoy’s neck.
Her eyes skated to the other forearm where she knew a specific tattoo lay, curiosity pulling her in. She was shocked to find however that it was now surrounded by a series of thick lines and a various assortment of flowers.The skull seemed to disappear almost completely in between the flowers and various series of lines now inked upon his forearm.
As she went back up his arms, she was startled to find him looking directly at her. A thin line over his lips as he stared across the desk at her, his eyes guarded but watching. She shifted on her feet under his gaze and let her own eyes drop to Pansy who was sitting back in her chair, finger tapping against her chin with a grin spread over her face as her eyes skated between the two.
“Draco, our dear Granger has come in for her first tattoo,” Pansy informed him though her eyes were watching Hermione. She noted his silence, but kept her eyes shifted away not daring to look at what was probably a smug expression or sneer smeared across his face.
“Okay.”
Hermione continued to look at the artwork displayed on the wall, still refusing to look at him. Her nerves had her shifting from foot to foot as she attempted to keep herself steady.
“Are you sure, Granger?” He questioned quietly. His voice sounded dubious even to her own ears. Sighing heavily, she stiffened her spine and squared her shoulders. Turning to face him, she stared him right in the eye as she nodded. She didn’t dare voice her words because she may end up in a tizzy that would chase him off. That wasn’t what she was there for.
His arms folded over his chest, tightening his shirt slightly as he watched her. His expression was solemn, watching her - waiting for what, she wasn’t sure but he must have found it because he then said, “Okay - explain your ideas. You said you had a few.”
She nodded, handing over the piece of paper worn around the edges from constantly being moved about in her pocket to her fingers. “I’d like to get a phoenix wrapped around my forearm,” she pointed to her now sleeved arm not letting him know exactly why. “I’d like to get a kelpie to wrap around my bicep. And I’d love to get a Thestral on my shoulder.”
Draco nodded along, his eyes trained on the paper. Tapping his fingers against the counter, he voiced, “I think we start with the kelpie you’ve been wanting. I’ve never done a kelpie before and I’d love to see how this turns out.” He pulled out a piece of paper. “If you give me an hour, I’ll get it sketched out and we can start the process. Go get something to eat.” His eyes flickered upward, boring into her. “Don’t get tattooed on an empty stomach. You’ll throw up.”
“Good to know,” she remarked, now feeling foolish for skipping breakfast. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
She came back an hour late - precisely sixty minutes - not that she was counting. She’d managed to find a local sub shop to force herself to eat despite the anxious butterflies fluttering about her stomach. Her lips were chapped from gnawing on them, but she couldn’t stop even as she neared the tattoo parlor once more. This time she didn’t hesitate in going in and just as she was about to take a seat to wait for Draco, she heard him usher her back down the hall.
Taking the familiar route to his studio room, she found him prepping the station. Black gloves were wrapped around his hands and the smell of sanitizer and cleaner was strong in the air. She appreciated that fact - their obvious cleanliness as part of the appeal.
“Take a seat,” he requested with a flash of his hand before he went about pouring the liquids into tiny cups. Her eyes followed his movements as she found herself falling into the leather chair. The greens were all various in shades that she wasn’t sure what he had in mind and she saw blues and yellows also being lined up along with it. It took biting her lip to keep from questioning him. Something held her back though.
Watching him move about the room with such determination and precise movements had her realizing just how serious he took his work. The boy she grew up with was definitely not standing before her now. This was someone who took life seriously, every task he did was serious - even the furrow in his brow was serious. There was no snark or humor leaking out of his gaze, just concentration. It’d been a long time since she’d seen anyone with that sort of determination. Well, other than herself that is.
He placed his wand atop the table and took a seat on a swivel bar stool. “Alright, Granger - did you want to see or just let me go for it?” He smiled - it looked half hearted and cautious which had her hesitating in her snarky comeback. So instead, she stripped out of her shirt leaving herself in a camisole and turned away from him.
“Have at it,” she remarked. She heard him roll closer to her, but he didn’t say a word as he set about grabbing his items. A sudden brush of goo on her arm had her jumping slightly under his touch.
“Sorry,” he murmured, gentling his touch as he rubbed it into the area. “This is to help the stencil stick.” She nodded but didn’t comment further. “Do you want some numbing cream too?”
“I’m good,” she said as she pulled out her book. The chuckle from behind her had her very much aware that he saw what was in her hands but she didn’t bother questioning it. Her eyes were reading over words but her brain wasn’t computing what was on the page as she felt him moving around her, touching her ever so slightly now and then.
His hands were oddly warm as he placed the stencil around her bicep, curling it around and under. The tail of the kelpie curled under while the head seemed to peak up over her shoulder. Her eyes flickered at it once and she was immediately impressed with the fine details, the soft lines and the movement that a flat image already gave just upon one glance.
“Okay, I’m going to start.” He paused a breath. “Ready?” She nodded, her eyes falling back to her book. It was boring, some might say, ‘A History on Arthimancy,’ but Hermione found that it helped to sooth her mind when she found something she could study, learn from even more. Merlin knew Harry and Ron had teased her time and time again for her reading material, but that just goaded her on even more.
For the next part of the afternoon, she listened to the buzzing of his wand as it poked needles into her skin, the inks finding a home in the spaces it was creating. Part of her was desperate to watch, but the stronger part just listened to the hum that echoed about the room. Letting herself fall into the pain that it was creating, she let her book drop beside her as she was lost in her own little world. Thoughts that usually plagued her were blessedly absent - a serene sense of numbness took her over as he worked away on the creature he was working on.
She could hear his voice filtering into her fog, explaining a few things as he did them, which she appreciated but hardly heard. He mentioned how he had magically imbued the inks so that they would later move after he casted the correct spell - one of his very own inventions but she hardly heard the rest of it.
At one point she heard the music fill the parlor - Pansy probably tired of hearing just the sound of tattooing - but Hermione hardly paid it mind.
“What made you decide you wanted to get inked?” He asked as he stood, shifting her arm into a rather odd position so he might work on the tail. His eyes flickered up just once but then his concentration was back to the task at hand.
“Theo Nott, actually.” His tattooing paused for just the slightest of moments. Her eyes shifted up a bit and she laughed at his confounded expression. “I’m sure you are aware that he and Harry are a thing. Have been for a year or so.”
“I might have heard something of the sort,” he admitted, working back on her arm. Dropping her head back to rest on the headrest, she hummed non committedly.
“Well, he had gotten that knot tattoo across his chest and I was mesmerized. I’d always been wondering about a tattoo.” She skipped over the real reason why and where she wanted her next tattoo. “I started asking him a million and one questions.” A laugh escaped her as she remembered following him around Godric’s hollow with a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other. “The great thing about Theo is - he doesn’t tire of my questions. He was a good sport about it all. Well by the end of it, he’d convinced me and sent me here.”
“Did he help come up with the ideas?” Draco wondered aloud over the buzz of the needles.
“Nope - most of that was me. Harry helped with the phoenix idea though.” She smiled at the memory of Harry and her, half buzzed, talking about the world and the ideas they wanted to share. Giggles and admissions were had that night, late at Godric’s Hollow a few years after the war. Harry had just finished Auror Training and Hermione had come over to help celebrate. It had been the night that Harry admitted his feelings for Theo Nott, and his feelings for the same sex in general.
It had been under hushed whispered and red stained cheeks, but Hermione had pulled him into a hug and told him how excited she was for him. The Wizarding World wasn’t ready for that admission from Harry, and Harry wasn’t ready for the world to know so many weren’t aware of his preferences. Hermione thought that was good because Harry deserved some peace - not a Media frenzy attack that would drag him and whoever through the ringer. Not that they wouldn’t have her to help fight them off, but Hermione understood his need for some peace and quiet in regards to this new found revelation.
“I always knew Theo had a thing for Potter,” Draco remarked as he stood taller, leaning over her a bit more. “His eyes would linger just a second too long in the library or on the Quidditch field.”
“I don’t think Harry knew back then what he wanted.” She paused and then let out a sarcastic laugh. “Other than staying alive.”
“Which he had you there for - to keep him alive, I mean.” He said as he shifted again, moving back and wiping at the tattoo to take off any leaking ink. His gaze was heavy on her arm as he seemed to study for any small spots he may have missed or needed to touch up. When she felt the hum of the wand start at her shoulder once more she couldn’t help the small wince.
“I suppose,” she hummed quietly through gritted teeth as the rawness came alive.
“Sorry, I’m almost done,” he said, noticing her discomfort.
“It’s fine,” she assured him as he continued to make changes here and there. Her eyes wanted to stray to see the work he’d created but instead she shut them to keep temptation at bay.
It wasn’t much longer before she heard him roll away. Opening her eyes, she blinked against the bright light and made to sit up. His hand met her elbow as he helped to steady her as she sat.
“I've got to wipe it down and it may hurt a little,” he said walking back to his working station. Twisting in the seat so she could now face him, she watched him take off his gloves and squirt some sort of hand sanitizer on before putting on fresh gloves. Grabbing a few paper towels and a bottle of some sort of liquid, he came over and sprayed the liquid directly to her tattoo before wiping it all the way down the tattoo. His eyes were dark - molten steel, thunderous almost as if a storm was brewing behind his gaze- as he took in the work. Without looking away, he took out his wand, “Are you ready?”
“Wait - I wanna see it before it shifts!” She glanced down and a gasp of surprise escaped as she saw the swirling colors of greens and yellows and blues give life to a creature she’d only seen with her own eyes once. The scales seemed to gleam as she moved her arm to glance at it. It’s eyes were so dark she felt as if she were looking into the pit of it’s soul. “Malfoy - this is brilliant!” She rotated her arm some more, trying her best to take in every detail she could.
He chuckled as he gently pushed her arm down. “Alright, now wait until you see the finale.” His voice lowered as he murmured a few words - some Latin phrases she could barely catch on to. In the back of her mind she tried to recollect what they were but her eyes were fixated on the golden beams floating down and around her tattoo. It seemed to have awoken from a sleeping spell because it yawned and stretched over her shoulder before shifting to curl even more around her bicep. Watching it, she assumed it would hurt as it tightened around her but she felt nothing.
“I take it you like it?” He wondered as he stepped back. Her head snapped up to his and she grinned in pure elation.
“I love it,” she whispered, though every word was laced with glee. “I cannot thank you enough.”
He walked over to his working counter where he grabbed a small bag. Turning back to her, he dropped it into her hand. “It’s the salve to keep it from drying out while it heals. Won’t lie - with moving tattoos it’s kind of a nasty time trying to get the whole thing covered so I wish you the best of luck.” He smirked. “Don’t put it in direct sunlight for a week or take a bath, swim with it for six weeks. Let it heal.”
Accepting the little bag of items, she reached over to the spare chair in the room where her bag rested. She placed the smaller one inside of it and pulled out her coin purse.
“What do I owe you?” She asked as she started digging around the different chunks of metal.
“Don’t worry about it, Granger,” he remarked. Lifting her head, she stared at his back in confusion watching him clean up his work station - pointedly not looking at her.
“You did amazing work, and I came here for a service - you are owed this,” she argued quietly.
He turned to glance over his shoulder with a gentle smile tilting at one corner of his lips. “Call us even - I got to tattoo the Brightest Witch of her Age. It’s an honor and free advertisement.” She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, well aware of her plan. Knowing he’d decline the money no matter what she tried, she decided she’d take it to the front and drop it off with Pansy who would have no problem accepting the payment.
“Well, thank you.” His gaze was still avoiding her as he nodded. She accepted that as her cue to leave. Grabbing her items, she turned into the hall and made her way toward the front desk. Pansy sat in her chair, heels up on the desk as she leaned back, and a gossip magazine in her perfectly manicured nails. Hermione took a moment to appreciate the artwork that was displayed on her arms. Pansy wore a thin strapped tank revealing two fully sleeved tattooed arms.
The colors were bright and vibrant. Splashing across her biceps and curling around her forearms with such intricate designs that Hermione couldn’t help but be a little envious. It was like a rainbow that spread from one wrist up her arm and down the other arm to her other wrist. Her left arm started with reds that bled into oranges and brightened to a gorgeous warm yellow. When Hermione’s eyes flickered to her right arm she noticed the bright greens that fell into shades of various blues before leading to the prettiest shades of purple. The amazing part was it was just splashes of colors that seemed to flow down her arm in between the line art of flowers she had spread all over. As if it were watercolors bleeding in between the lines.
“What do you need, Granger?” Hermione was startled from her staring to see Pansy watching from over the top of her magazine.
Fumbling with her coins, she dropped them on the counter. “For Malfoy.” Then promptly spun on her heel and walked out the door without glancing back.