AN: Happy Thursday, darlings! Some of this chapter may seem familiar because we've caught up to the beginning of the old version. I'll be keeping the bones of the story so a lot of things will seem similar, but hopefully with a bit more detail and substance this time around. Anyway! Onto the good stuff, here's Draco and Hermione bringing the weekly angst!

-..-

She struck a fearsome figure with hands on her hips and a spark of anger in her chestnut eyes. It was the first time in a long time Theodore felt nervous to enter her shop. Hermione tapped her foot impatiently, and Theo awkwardly cleared his throat.

"I know I probably should have owled you first, but I knew you would most likely give me that look of yours in the shape of a very eloquent owl."

Hermione's eyebrows creased, and a small frown tugged at her lips.

"Yes, that look. But you told me once that this was a place where anyone could come for help and healing. I'd like to think you really meant anyone. You also told me to invite people I knew so we could grow our client base." He glanced at Draco and cleared his throat. "Consider this growth?"

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Sure she had said that and meant it, but she didn't think she would one day have to include Draco Malfoy in that "anyone". She liked to believe everyone was redeemable in some way, but a small, petty part of her wanted to punch Malfoy in the face (again) and send him out the door.

And yet.

And yet she couldn't.

She couldn't because of the fractured look she had seen in his eyes the last time they spoke - when he had stood in the midst of the destruction of Hogwarts and helped her rebuild. She was seeing an echo of that sorrow in his eyes now, a sorrow that she was certain had haunted her own eyes the first time she had stepped into a tattoo shop. His shoulders were slumped slightly, the weight of the world no doubt heavy upon his shoulders. It caused her heart to ache.

Buried beneath his sorrow, tucked away under the shadows of so much loss and pain, was the slightest glimmer of hope. That hope, that faint light that sparked in his gray eyes, made up her mind. She only saw it for a moment, a split second when he met Theo's gaze, before it was covered with careful nonchalance. But she saw it, and she wouldn't be the one to steal even the smallest amount of hope from someone's eyes.

Her silent staring unnerved Draco enough that he leaned towards Theo and muttered under his breath, "We should leave."

"I'm not giving you the Hogwarts discount."

She was satisfied by the uncharacteristic look of shock that crossed Malfoy's face. She frowned at him and said, "If we are going to do this, you will pay in full upfront, and there will be no throwing insults or rude behavior. If you insult me or mine, I reserve the right to stun you and tattoo the ugliest design I can think of right on your forehead. Am I understood?"

He blinked slowly at her, as though trying to process everything she had said. "Of course, Granger," he murmured. "I wouldn't… I would like to think we are passed such childish behavior."

Hermione pursed her lips and grunted skeptically. "Well we shall see, won't we?" She turned sharply on her heel and made her way toward her office.

Theo shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked at Draco. "I told you she would do it."

Draco rolled his eyes at Theo but kept his witty retorts to himself. He didn't want to get kicked out of Granger's store before he got what he had come for.

"You should probably head back to her office," Theo said and nodded his head towards the door Hermione had vanished through. "She doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Draco nodded but didn't move. "Where will you be?"

Theo swallowed thickly and tried to sound casual when he said, "I will be running the front desk."

Narrowed eyes slowly slid over the room to stare at Theo. "Will you?"

The question was too casual. Theo refused to look at Draco, already knowing the interrogation that must be brewing in his friend's mind and afraid of whatever judgments he might find in his keen gaze.

When he grew bored of staring, Draco said, "I should probably go back there."

He still didn't move.

Theo smiled slightly. "You can trust her."

Draco nodded and made his way to Hermione's office.

Theo sighed quietly in relief; part of him was certain Draco was either going to start a fight or leave the shop. Still, he couldn't resist calling out, "Try not to be too irritating, mate. I know that's hard for you, but I have faith in you."

Without looking back, Draco held up a rude gesture and continued down the hallway.

Granger's office was, in his opinion, quite boring.

It had the expected, overflowing bookshelves that were practically a Granger personality trait, but there weren't any other personal touches that he could see. The furniture was rather plain, but the cream walls and large window gave the room a warm, open feeling which he supposed was nice for an office. The large fireplace and blue couches seemed a bit odd, but he was sure they were for the large amount of Gryffindors that tended to gather around her. He raised an eyebrow at the lack of red and gold in the room. That was decidedly very un-Gryffindor of her.

Shaking his head, Draco glanced over at Hermione and found her rummaging around in the large desk in front of the window. He still couldn't believe he was here.

The revelation that Granger could cover dark marks had shaken Draco to his core. Even after Theo and Blaise had left that first night when Theo had gotten his tattoo, Draco had paced his apartment for hours trying to come to terms with everything. He had accepted long ago that he would be permanently marked by his mistakes, branded a failure and a waste of life for the world to see. In the first few moments after hearing about Virago, Draco had hoped. He had allowed himself to hope for the chance to move on from his past, but it didn't last. He went through a nauseating cycle of hope and despair that left him vomiting in his toilet and lost to memories he had tried to bury.

But that seed of hope had lodged itself deep inside him and found a way to grow, despite the cold darkness that all but consumed him. It had kept him awake at night dreaming of redemption and peace and quieted the voice inside him that was outraged at the idea of absolution. It whispered and pushed and prodded until Virago had become more than a quiet wish. The nausea subsided. The cold darkness inside him receded just a bit, and gave ground to the distant warmth the hope offered.

Seeing Draco lost in his thoughts, Hermione moved quietly around the room, gathered her art supplies, and lit a scented candle to try and give the room a more comfortable atmosphere. She knew from working with Theo that it was best to let Malfoy observe his surroundings and decide for himself when he was ready to start. Slytherin were such a suspicious bunch, and it always fascinated her to watch how uniquely they interacted with their surroundings. Theo often complained about it, but to her their minds worked in such an interesting way. Besides, she didn't have any more appointments for the day, so he could take as long as he needed.

Eventually, Draco made his way over to the couches and sat on the one facing the office door. He looked uncomfortable, perched on the edge of the cushion with such stiff posture, but she knew he would relax as he became more comfortable with her.

Hermione sat down across from him, a sketchbook set across her knees and a bag of pencils next to her.

"So, Malfoy, what tattoo would you like?"

A faint flush of embarrassment washed over his cheeks. "I didn't really know what to expect or what you were capable of doing," Draco said. "I don't have an exact design in my mind. Theodore's looks decent, but he said it was a… personal design."

A small smile worked its way onto Hermione's face as she nodded in understanding. "I didn't expect you to have a finished idea considering tattoos are still new to the wizarding community. Theo came in without any idea of what he wanted, so I took some time to get to know him and based his design on his stories and personality. It is quite personal."

"The tattoo," Draco asked slowly, "it will cover the dark mark?"

Hermione stared for a moment at the man in front of her, so different from the boy she had gone to school with. Gone was the hair gel and cruel sneer that she had sworn were permanent features. His overbearing arrogance and disdain had been replaced with quiet confidence and reservedness. Had she passed him on the streets, she would have hardly recognized him.

"Yes," she finally answered. "It will cover it completely."

Draco closed his eyes in relief, his shoulders sagging slightly as his body relaxed and a quiet sigh escaped him.

It made Hermione's chest tighten, a small part of her pleased to see such vulnerability. She was appreciative of every opportunity she had to help someone, but the dark mark removal would hold a special place for her.

"It will take time," she said quietly, "and can be quite painful. I have to simultaneously erase and replace the magic he put under your skin."

"Theodore told me." He glanced down at his forearm, and his lips pressed together into a thin line. "It can't be as bad as the first time."

His confession startled her. Theo had never mentioned the process for getting the dark mark; she had been able to tell it was a topic he wanted to avoid talking about. For Draco to not only mention it but also admit to something hurting him wasn't something she had anticipated for their appointment together. Hopefully it was a good sign.

"Theo isn't the only Slytherin I've worked with."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "He isn't?"

She wasn't surprised by his skepticism; she had felt the same way when the other Slytherins had come into her shop. "No, in fact Adrien Pucey and Terence Higgs have both been in here several times."

He stared owlishly at her, absolutely dumbfounded that his old Quidditch teammates had not only been in a Gryffindor's store but had also let her give them tattoos. "And you let them?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course," she said as though it were the easiest thing she had done. "When I first opened, business was slow and I was pleased when anyone came into my shop. Why wouldn't I let them?"

Draco cocked his head to the side and searched her gaze for any sign of deception. "They were Slytherins."

"So were you, yet here we are."

They stared at each other, Hermione daring him to doubt her and Draco debating the truthfulness of her words. Finally, he nodded and said, "I suppose house rivalries don't have a place outside of Hogwarts."

"No," she agreed, "they don't."

Her office suddenly made more sense to him. The lack of house colors, personal touches, and the like created an unbiased and neutral ground for people to meet her on. It gave them equal footing and allowed them to converse as individuals, unburdened by past rivalries and prejudices. It was, he decided, extremely refreshing.

"Let's get started." Flipping to a blank page in her sketchbook, Hermione grabbed a pencil and fixed Draco with a calculating look. "Getting a tattoo is a very personal decision and experience. I would like to ask you a few questions to get to know you better and figure out what you might want your design to be. Is that okay?"

Draco slowly nodded his head in agreement, but his voice of self-preservation immediately started screaming for him to walk out the door and not look back. Regardless of whatever pleasant atmosphere she had created, Granger was still asking him to do something that went against everything he had ever learned.

He knew without a doubt she would ask the most horribly personal questions she could come up with. Who wouldn't want to take advantage of a Slytherin agreeing to be open and honest with them? After the way he had treated her in school, Granger had every right to go prying into his past and pick him apart. Perhaps that was why she opened the shop in the first place: to trap unsuspecting Slytherins and learn their deepest, darkest secrets.

No.

That was his paranoia talking. He trusted Theodore, and if Theo could not only allow Hermione to tattoo him but also spend enough time with her to work the front desk… Which was something he would need to ask him about later.

Regardless of his friend's trust in the witch sitting across from him, his skin still crawled at the thought of sharing anything remotely private with her. Draco Malfoy did not do vulnerability. Especially with a woman who had gladly called him a nemesis for nearly six years of his childhood. Could he allow himself to open up to her? To give her the kind of information that could potentially ruin him, simply in the hopes that she might help him when she had no reason to? If he started this, he would have to let her into the darkest corners of himself because with Granger it had always been, and would always be, all or nothing. Could he do that?

He once again looked down at his covered forearm and clenched his jaw. Yes, he could. Because so long as this stained his body, he was a fractured and stagnant version of himself. If he could control the conversation and control whatever she designed, then yes, he could do this. For the sake of moving on, of moving forward, he would do this.

As she watched the internal debate Draco had with himself, Hermione began sketching. He spent a lot of time lost in his thoughts, she observed, more so than Theo. She and Theo had several conversations while she had worked on his sleeve, many of which had hinted at childhood difficulties for both of the young men. Their friendship was so close that almost all of Theo's stories included Draco. When she had asked, Theo had been extremely tight-lipped and refused to tell her anything to do with Malfoy's past. In his words, they weren't his stories to tell.

While she was curious, she knew Malfoy would need to be eased into the conversation with simple, non-probing questions or else he would run. She was certain he was already thinking of every possible worst case scenario for this appointment.

Without looking up from her sketch, she asked, "What are your three favorite colors?"

Draco's head snapped up. His muscles were tight with anxiety at what she would ask, fingers digging into the couch cushion beneath him and jaw clenched tightly enough to ache. He frowned in confusion as her question finally registered. Was she joking?

Hermione glanced up at him over the top of her book and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Apparently not.

He thought for a moment and slowly released his death-grip on the couch before answering, "Gray, blue, and dark green." He waited for some mocking remark or snide comment, but it never came.

"And your favorite animal?"

Draco hesitated again. "What's yours?"

Hermione tried to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Of course he would need her to give him information in exchange for answering her questions. Nothing was ever freely given. Theo had done the same thing, but that made it no less frustrating for her.

"My favorite animal is an otter, like my patronus." She looked at him expectantly.

He nodded and said, "A dragon."

She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully but not at all surprised. Hermione knew better than to mock him during such a strenuous conversation, even if his answer was rather predictable. "What about a favorite childhood memory?"

Draco's body tensed again, his mind stuttering to a halt. That question seemed a little odd; surely not everyone has a specific childhood memory they were fond of. That must be a Granger thing or a bizarre muggle concept. He could feel an edge of panic creep into him. Of course people like Weasley or Potter would have favorite memories, seeing as they were the golden children of Hogwarts, but people like him? Had Theodore had a favorite memory? Surely not.

Hermione misinterpreted his lack of response and attempted to make it easier for him by adding, "If you have too many, you can just narrow it down to two or three."

Two or three? Draco's breath hitched as childhood flashbacks began to circle unbidden through his mind's eye, none of them pleasant. He couldn't think of even one good memory, let alone three. Sure, his life had been fairly easy, but easy rarely ever equated to enjoyable in his experience. Had Theo told her about their childhoods? Was she mocking him, already knowing he couldn't answer her question?

Seeing a look of fear enter his eyes, Hermione realized her mistake. "It can be something small," she said quickly. "One of my favorites is dancing in the kitchen with my mum while she cooked." She smiled softly at the memory, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest. "It was a nightly ritual we had while we waited for my Dad to come home from work."

Draco was so caught up in his own inner turmoil that he missed the flash of pain behind her eyes.

"We would play old swing music on the radio; it was her favorite." She exhaled slowly, refusing to allow herself to get caught up in the memory. Now wasn't the time.

His thoughts finally slowed and focused on what she had said. 'Just dancing in the kitchen. Surely I have a memory that simple. Perhaps something with Mother?' Thinking about his mum, a small smile began to pull at his lips. "My mother and I," he said slowly as the memory unfolded in his mind's eye. "We used to sit our on her balcony at night, usually when I couldn't sleep. She would point out the different constellations and the stars our family members were named after."

Hermione smiled widely and started sketching again. "That's perfect, Draco!" She waved to him as she drew, gesturing for him to continue with another memory.

He was startled that she had used his first name, but a small voice in the back of his mind enjoyed the way she said it. Pushing it aside, he continued, "She used to have me help in her garden. It was her favorite place because she thought plants are easy and forgiving; they never hold grudges." His eyes glazed over a little as he wandered through his memories. "She was such a gentle mother, never too stern or strict with me. The only time I ever saw her angry was the time Blaise and I stole our practice brooms from the house to play quidditch. It was in the middle of the night so we didn't think we would be caught, but I fell and nearly broke my arm. And out came Mother in her billowing fury. I nearly pissed myself out of fear, but I was so proud that I had caught the snitch. It was almost worth it." He chuckled quietly at the memory, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to and enjoying the few glimpses of light in his childhood.

Hermione heard his chuckle and stopped her sketching to look at him. Actual joy was written across his features, a crooked smile instead of a smirk, and a light in his eyes for the first time since he had entered her shop. That, she thought, was exactly why she had opened Virago. To help put that light in people's eyes. Her smile softened, and her throat burned slightly with an emotion she refused to name.

She cleared her throat, set her pencil down, and said, "If you're ready, I think I have enough information to have a complete design." She passed him her sketchbook. "Keep in mind this is just the preliminary idea. You can obviously change it and add to it since it is your tattoo. This is just the general idea we can start with."

He stared silently at the drawing long enough that Hermione began to have serious doubts.

Maybe she should have chosen a different color. Or tried to incorporate quidditch more. Or created a different design entirely? He hated it, she was absolutely certain.

"I understand if you don't like it. Sometimes the first design doesn't work out, which is why I like to have these appointments first, just to find the right ideas." The words were tumbling out too fast for her to stop them. "I won't be offended if you don't like it. As an artist, I've grown quite used to rejection, so it's —"

"No," he said firmly, startling her into silence. "I don't want to change it."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You don't?"

"Why would I change anything?" He gave her an appraising look. "I'm impressed, Granger. Who knew an artist was hiding under all those books?"

A rosy pink dusted Hermione's cheeks. "Yes, well, it's still a fairly new skill."

"It's impressive," Draco murmured while once again gazing at the drawing. And it was; he couldn't believe she had managed to draw something so detailed in such a short amount of time. "How long will it take?"

"Covering the mark itself will be the most time consuming part, and since it can be painful you may need to take breaks." She pointed at a particular section of the drawing and added, "This will be the most time-consuming area, but the rest should be pretty easy. I'd say it will take several hours, but we could probably do it in one afternoon if you are able. I can free up enough space in the schedule."

He gave her a small glare. If he was able? That sounded like a challenge.

She smiled slyly at him, knowing exactly how it had sounded. "When are you available?"

"When do you have an opening?" He didn't want to sound too eager, but he was so close to getting this damned mark off his arm. Whatever anxiety he felt was overwhelmed by his excitement.

"I have plans for lunch, but my afternoon is free." She chewed lightly on her bottom lip. "Could you do today?"

"That should work for me," he said, trying and failing to sound indifferent.

Draco Malfoy was about to get tattooed by Hermione Granger, and he couldn't wait.