Special Thanks to Belgaris. I wouldn't be here without her help. I'd

be Lost without her. ^_^

I Don't Know That Much About the Tattoo/Piercing Industry. Most of This Stuff I Read Online, So DON'T Sue Me!

This is My First Fic, Have Mercy on Me!

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own These Characters. They Belong to J.K. Rowling and Are Her Intellectual Property. I am Not Receiving Any Profit From This. I Think. Meh.

Chapter 1: Not Enough

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Harry sighed as he brushed his long hair getting ready for just another regular day. Oh, don't get him wrong. He loves his life, especially now that he's away from his abusive uncle, and things can get crazy with his weird and freaky family, but he gets so bored sometimes. Okay, a lot. He only wants a little more excitement in his life. Little did he know how much he needed excitement in his life, and that soon he'll get more than enough "excitement" to last a lifetime... He put his hair into a tight bun at the back of his head and smiled at his reflection. Time for another day on the job.

"Mr. Richard." Harry lifted his head from where he was making a sketch to regard his boss' boss.

"Yes, Sir?"

Jacob Wilson looked at him with barely concealed disdain. "How are those new sketches coming along? The clients will be here in a month."

As usual, Harry ignored the strong aura of dislike coming from the man, "They're coming, sir."

"I hope you plan on cutting that hair of yours before the clients arrive. The Japanese are a very disciplined people, you know." Harry mentally rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt that the length of my hair would be a matter of serious concern to the clients, sir, if any concern to them at all."

"Hmph. Well at least take out those earrings of yours Richard. Don't want to give our clients the wrong impression, now do we?"

Harry closed his eyes and forced himself not to snap at the man, but instead gave the man a challenging smile and met his gaze head on. "And what impression would that be, sir?"

They stared silently at each other for a moment before Wilson finally spoke, "Just get those sketches done, Richard." He turned and walked away.

Harry watched him until he disappeared from view.

"All right there, Harry?"

Harry looked up at Nelson where he was leaning on the partition between their workspaces.

"Fine, Nelson. I just hope that Cedric comes back soon. I'd like to have as little contact as possible with Jacob Wilson."

"Same here. That guy's a git."

Harry snorted, "Get back to work, Nelson."

Nelson saluted, "Right away, sir!" , and ducked back into his own workspace.

Harry shook his head in amusement, then looked down at his desk. He wrinkled his nose at his last sketch, crumpled it and threw it in the wastepaper basket. He sighed as he grabbed another piece of paper. Let's see if he can get the final sketch done before lunch.

Tom Patrick breathed deeply as he rolls his shoulders and flexed his neck. Coming to work is becoming tedious. He flexed his fingers which were still gripping the steering wheel. Maybe he should make Luke manager and start travelling again. He had established a successful, thriving business, like he wanted. He's causing sometimes excruciating pain to others on a near daily basis, getting away with it, making money from it, and without having to remain within the royal navy to boot! Like he wanted. The fact that he gets to make beautiful art almost everyday is just a bonus. He is satisfied, yes, pleased even. But is he happy? At that thought he scowled and sneered at his reflection in the rear view mirror. Such a sentimental thought, he should get rid of it. So he did. Or so he thought...

He exited his car, locking it with the remote. When he was inside, his gaze immediately went to the wall clock. 6:34 am. None of his staff will be in at this hour, except Sebastian. He put up his coat and set out to find the ink master. Simply turning the corner of the employee hallway confirmed his suspicions. A dim purple glow was leaking out from underneath a door two doors down from his own office. He stopped at it and knocked, shouting through the wood,"Try not to spill any ink on yourself, Seb! Remember last time!" He gave a smirk to the door, for he had no doubt that Sebastian was glaring at it that very moment. He then turned on his heel and went to his own space. It was simple, sleek, elegant and sterile. All his real art was at home. He walked around his desk and sat down in his large, custom made office chair, leaning his head back into the headrest. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, processing his thoughts. Seb needed another new supply of pigment and carriers and Bella needed more restraints, as did Bobby. Francis wanted to get in on scarification and was requesting time off to go get training. Luke's little brother was coming in to be his apprentice and the staff's honorary lackey if he allowed it. How all very tedious. With a deep breath, he leaned forward and got to work.

"Harry!" Harry gave his elder sister a hug, "Hello, Mione. How have you been?"

She gave him a big smile as they sat down to lunch. "Excellent! Now, my dearest brother, how have you been?"

He took his time in answering her, waiting until after they'd given their orders before doing so. "Not so good. My boss is out sick so I have to do half of his work and his boss is a git."

"Harry!"

"What? That's exactly what he's acting like." He took out a pen and began drawing on a napkin. Hermione sighed,

"Oh, Harry, I'm sure he's just a very strict man. You shouldn't pay his behaviour any mind, I'm sure he just cares for the company."

At those words Harry stared blankly as his sister for a minute. "No, Hermione. He is just a git, plain and simple. He's a complete hypocrite!" He leaned forward and said to her in a low voice, "I heard that the company's owner also has long hair, not to mention, an abundance of piercings and tattoos, but I haven't heard of him badgering the guy to cut his hair or take out his body jewellery! He's a hypocritical kiss arse! Cedric himself told me so!"

Hermione blinked. "Well. Umm... I'm sorry to hear that. But just leave the matter well enough alone, hmm? Just do your work, then go home. When is Cedric coming back anyway?"

Harry sighed and slumped back into his seat. "We don't know yet. So for an indefinite time period I'm going to have to put up with that git."

Hermione reached over and patted his hand soothingly. "I'm sure everything will be fine." He snorted and shook his head. "I hope so. For his sake and mine." That earned him a slap on the wrist. He ignored it and leaned forward with a cheeky grin and mischievous eyes. "So, 'Mione, how's your relationship with Krum going?" She pinched his wrist hard. "Ow! Hermione! Can't a brother enquire about his sister's love life?"

"No!", She replied vehemently.

"Fine! Fine!", He laughed as he raised his hands in a placating gesture. Soon enough their food arrived and they ate in an amiable silence. All three siblings were a quiet lot, their usual silences only interrupted by Selena's humming or the scratch of pencil on paper as Harry drew or Hermione took notes.

"'Mione?"

"Yes?", She answered as she paid the check."I'm thinking of getting a tattoo." He eyed her warily, waiting for an explosion and wasn't disappointed.

"What?!" Several other diners looked over at their table in annoyance. Hermione quickly mouthed "sorry" at them before turning back to Harry with fire in her eyes. "Where did that idea come from? Did Sirius spawn this? Or is it to annoy that boss of yours? Because that is not a good enough reason to permanently mark your skin!"

"No!", Said Harry vehemently, "I'm not going to do it for him! Or Sirius! I'm going to do it for me."

"I-", Hermione floundered, obviously not knowing what to say.

"Mione." Harry reached across the table and held her hand in a reassuring grip. "I want to do this. I think of tattooing as a beautiful art and a great way to express yourself and- ", Harry sighed. "I want one. And I'd really love your support."

Hermione looked at him carefully, trying her hardest to see if he truly meant what he was saying. Seeing the determination on his face, she finally spoke. "I can see that you really want this. But Harry, ", she gave his hand a squeeze, "please, think about it, for my sake if not for yours."He chuckled at her words, "Hermione, I've been thinking about this for years now. Since we were with uncle Donovan."

She gasped and covered her mouth with her free hand in shock. "That long?!" She gave him a sad look. "Oh, Harry..." He didn't meet her gaze, just looked at their entwined hands. It was only when she covered his hand with her other one did he finally meet her gaze. She had a fire blazing in her eyes, the fire she inherited from their mother. "Alright. I'll stand by you. I assume you've done the correct amount of research?", She asked primly.

He gave a small laugh and replied, "Yeah. Should I send you some material?"

"I'm afraid that won't be necessary. I'll do my own research. I'll take the liberty of finding a proper parlour. I'll be going with you, of course."

"Of course.", He replied with amusement colouring his voice. He covered their hands with his free one and gave them a kiss. "Thank you, 'Mione. I don't what I'd do without you."

"Rather little, I believe.", She said.

He only laughed. Not long after that, they left the restaurant and parted ways soon after, Harry with a huge grin on his face and considerably lighter shoulders.

Tom pressed the intercom button, "Natasha, is Francis with a client?"

"No, sir."

"Send him in."

"Right away, sir."

He released the intercom button and settled back into his chair, steepling his fingers and gazing at his desk. Within a minute there was a knock on his door and he barked out, "enter!".

Francis entered, closed the door behind him and sat down in one of the moderately comfortable chairs before his desk. "You Called?", He asked in a deep rumble.

Tom gave the wolfish man a deep, searching stare. "You've been requesting leave to acquire training in the art of scarification."

Francis opened his mouth to speak.

"Stop."

He snapped his mouth shut.

"I don't need to hear any of your drivel. You're wasting enough of my time. There is no need for you to be acquiring scarification training. I already have 4 people here who are trained in the art, and it's not even that popular, so why should I, your boss, hold your job open for you as if I'm a teenage girl holding a friend's place in line for a One Direction concert, when I could just as easily find someone to fill your spot? Do you think we're friends?"

Francis swallowed heavily.

"If you do, you are quite wrong. Most of us here are sadists, yes, but we're also artists, and this is also a business, not a torture house. I'm getting tired of having to explain this to you imbeciles every other week." Tom glared at the fool before him. "My answer is no. Now get out of my sight."

Francis stood and left the room without another word. Tom leaned back into his chair and began to massage his temples. Fools, the lot of them. What he wouldn't do for a smoke right now, but it would have to wait until after work. He sighed. It was all becoming so very tedious.