Authors Notes:
The usual... I'm not JK Rowling, she owns everything. Yadda, yadda, yadda.
Another big thanks to fulldaysdrive for getting this chapter beta'd and back to me so quickly. You're amazing. This fic would never have been posted if it weren't for you.
Thanks to all the readers who have left kudos so far. I was so excited to see that people actually like my story so far.
Draco closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. He couldn't believe this was happening. Of course this was Potter's shop. Of course Harry-bloody-Potter would be the only wizard in London with the skills to do both magic and Muggle tattoos. Of course-
"I'll just leave you to process all this then, shall I?"
Draco's eyes opened slowly only to see Potter's back as he strode over to the reception desk to consult with Piper about something-or-other. He let out a heavy sigh and ran his hands over his face, desperately trying to make some sense of all this.
When he glanced back over to the reception desk Potter was leaning over the date book making notes and nodding to whatever Piper was saying. As he reached further over the desk to grab a stack of memos, all the moisture left Draco's mouth. Potter had a very nice arse.
Shaking away that uncomfortable thought, Draco took a moment to take in the rest of Potter's appearance. He hadn't seen him in over 20 years, not since his trial. He no longer wore his signature round frames, instead opting for a slimmer rectangular shape that complimented his squared jawline. Potter's hair was as messy as ever, but the inky black mop was now peppered with silvery grey at the temples. He had filled out a bit over the years, no longer the scrawny teen he knew in school. Lean muscle was visible through the tight black t-shirt he wore with his casual Muggle jeans slung low on his hips. Draco could see what appeared to be tattooed leaves poking out of the collar of his t-shirt. He had green and black Celtic knot work wrapped around his right forearm from wrist to elbow, and a magical stag on his left bicep. Every few seconds several tiny white lilies sprouted from the antlers, once in full bloom, the stag shook them out and they fell softly around the stag's face before disappearing completely.
"You're staring, you know?"
Draco nearly jumped out of his chair for the second time and looked over to see laughing turquoise eyes staring back at him.
"He's the best in the city, you know," Teddy bragged. "And I'm not just saying that because he's my dad."
Clearing away his discomfort and unease, Draco put out his hand. "I'm—"
"Draco Malfoy," Ted intrerrupted. "I know."
Draco bristled, glanced away and prepared himself for what surely was going to be a rejected handshake, or at the very least a look of distain. When he felt Ted's large warm hand take his into a firm shake, he looked back to see the same bright eyes sparked with interest and a thousand watt smile staring back at him.
"We're cousins, you and me. Gran talks about your mum sometimes, and Scorpius talks about you all the time."
"You know my son?" Draco asked confoundedly.
He was trying to make sense of all this – really, he was – but he couldn't seem make out arse from elbows from the moment he walked through the door.
Teddy's smile dropped briefly as confusion flashed through his features, but was replaced in an instant as he began telling Draco all about how Rose and Scorpius visit the shop sometimes when they're on holiday from school.
Draco could only nod along and hope that he didn't appear as unsettled as he felt. He knew, of course, that Scorpius' best friend was the eldest Granger-Weasley child, they'd been almost inseparable since they were both sorted into Ravenclaw four years ago. His owls home were full of "Rose-and-I did this" and "Rose said…"
He hadn't known that his fourteen-year-old son made excursions to Camden Town and frequented tattoo parlors run by his estranged cousin and childhood nemesis.
"You look a bit put out." Potter's voice startled him out of his ruminations for what felt like the thousandth time today. Teddy must have gotten up sometime during his internal panic attack because he no where in sight and Harry-sodding-Potter was standing before him with a look of utter amusement plastered across his stupid handsome face.
"Why are you being so calm about this?" Draco demanded. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
Draco knew that he probably looked and sounded slightly insane, but it had been a long time since he'd been thrown into a situation that made him feel this out of place. He really needed a drink.
Potter just smiled at him. It was a warm smile - one that softened his features, and made his eyes shine in a way that seemed to make his entire face light up. It was a smile that he's often seen on the Gryffindor when talking to his friends. It was not a look Draco ever thought would be directed at him.
"Relax Draco," Potter sat in the chair next to him and folded his arms over his chest.
Draco? Since when did Potter call him Draco?
He took a moment to force himself to calm down and slip back into his Slytherin mask that protected him from things like this. He clenched his hands into fists a few times before finally folding them over his lap and took one final calming breath. Finally gaining the courage to look Potter in the eye, he raised one pale finely sculpted eyebrow in question.
"I'm going to assume that you heard about us from your new assistant, Rhys. He mentioned he was going to begin working for you the last time he was in. Look, I know this is probably weird for you - and I'm not sure how much you've been told about the shop - but I do know what I'm doing. If you're still interested in at least talking about getting some work done I'm here, okay?"
Despite of the surreal situation that he had found himself in, Draco was finally able to calm down enough to remember why he was here in the first place. He was here to get a Muggle tattoo to cover the place where his Dark Mark was. He was finally ready burying his demons, and this was the first step. Who's better to cover a Dark Mark than the man who rid the world of them in the first place?
After a thoughtful pause, Draco took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that – to talk, at the very least."
"Ok great, how about this," Potter holds out his hand. It only took a second to realise what he was offering. Not just a handshake, but a chance to start over, and that was exactly what Draco was looking for.
Taking the offered hand in a firm shake he offered, "Draco Malfoy, I'm looking to get a tattoo on my left arm."
"Harry," Potter replied. The purposeful exclusion of his surname did not go unnoticed. "I'd be happy to help. What did you have in mind?"
As Draco described his idea Potter – Harry – summoned a large sketchbook and began drawing a rough version of the design, making notes in tiny illegible script with arrows pointing to different parts. He verbalized some suggestions and explained why some things – while good in theory – just don't transfer well on skin and ink.
When Harry finally put his pencil down he had a rough draft of what would eventually be an entire sleeve taking up all of Draco's arm shoulder to wrist. It had been explained to him that his idea for a tattoo of the solar system highlighting the Draco and Scorpius constellations would not translate well in a small area. While hesitant to agree to something this large at first, after seeing the mock-up drawing, he had been convinced that this was the way to go.
"Muggle tattoos take a lot of time," Explained Harry. "This will probably take around six, three-to-four hour sessions with two weeks healing time in between. If we start in," he pauses checking his date book, "two weeks on the twentieth of June, and you come in every other Saturday thereafter, I should be able to complete it on – August twenty-second."
Draco's eyes grew wide with shock. "TWO MONTHS! This is going to take two months?"
He knew that Muggle tattoos took a lot longer than Magic tattoos, but months? That was just ridiculous. A tattoo this size would only take a few hours if applied by magic.
"Draco?" Harry prodded, trying to regain his attention, "Muggle tattoos are done by injecting ink just under the skin using needles. You did know that, didn't you? It not exactly a pleasant feeling either, It's going to hurt. I can't use magic to numb or heal the area because magic can interact poorly with the ink. It can cause the lines to blur, and in some cases causes infection."
As it turned out, Draco had no idea what he was getting into. Taking a few minutes to let this information sink in, he eventually decided that for better or worse, this is what he wanted - He had been held under the cruciatus by the Dark Lord himself - If he can handle that, he can handle pretty much anything.
"Let's do it." He said decisively. His voice was firm, but his hands were shaking. He watched as Harry wrote "Draco" in six different blocks in his date book, and produced a small bit of parchment. It had the name of the shop across the top in ornate lettering and below that was a list of dates and times for each of Draco's sessions. At the very bottom in small neat print it read "Welcome to Your New Addiction."
Draco balled his left hand into a fist letting his nails bite into his skin, and forced his right hand to stop shaking for long enough to accept the parchment and a final handshake from both Ted and Harry.
"See you in a couple of weeks!" shouted Piper, who was bouncing on the balls of her feet and waving frantically as Draco left the shop.
He turned the corner a block away and leaned against the door to his bookstore. Banging his head lightly on the thick oak door a few times, he heaved a great sigh.
"What did I get myself into?" He asked, staring out onto the chaos that was Element Alley on a Saturday, in June.
Rhys will be unpacking and alphabetizing the ten crate shipment of exotic books that arrived that morning from Brazil. That should be punishment enough for sending him to The Wolf and Lily without any kind of warning. Smiling to himself he pushed of the door and entered his store.
Additional Author's Notes:
The sentiment "Welcome to your new addiction" was printed on the door of the first tattoo parlor I ever went to. It was a shop called Creative Vision and it was located in Monterey, CA.
Tattoos are very addictive... I would know I have 7 and have ideas for at least 4 more.
