Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR.
A/N: Thanks again for the reviews. I have changed my profile to accept anonymous reviews as I have had problems logging in to ff.net.
There was a reference to two shampoo ads in the previous chapter, not one, sorry.
There'll be more of Snape in this chapter, as I want to get things from his angle now.
Chapter 4 - Tattoo, or not tattoo?
Snape watched as a vision of loveliness entered the great hall in front of Lavender and Parvati. Milk chocolate coloured curls cascaded down her back and shimmered as she sat down. She'd entered the room like a queen; head high with a small smile curving her pink lips.
He wondered who had been on the receiving end of her attentions this week. For the sake of his sanity he'd avoided the Astronomy tower on his nightly rounds. It was a wonder her studies hadn't been affected, but according to the other teachers she was way ahead of the other students, as usual. If he'd been a more sociable person in the past he may have been able to question them more, but it would have looked very odd if he showed a particular interest now.
He snorted. Black would have had a field day with him. He could hear the jibes now; cradle snatcher, pervert, peeping tom... he shuddered. The loss of house points were a sore spot with McGonegall, too. She'd asked him why he didn't just give Miss Granger a detention and get it over with. He'd suggested she keep a tighter rein on her students. He groaned at the thought of Hermione in a leather collar and very little else....
"Not feeling too well, Severus?" Dumbledore looked concerned.
"I feel perfectly fine, Headmaster." He bit out, his hand clenching his fork.
"Excellent, Severus. Is that Miss Granger down there? She looks different tonight."
"Radiant, yes, radiant!" Flitwick peered over the table at her.
"I saw her in the Library with Malfoy earlier." Remus said innocently, and gently squeezed Sirius' knee under the table, signalling that it was his turn. Sirius grinned.
"Can I get you a different fork, Severus? Looks like that one is a bit bent."
Minerva choked on her pumpkin juice as the chair scraped behind Snape.
"I have a potion to see to. I'll get something later from the kitchens." He exited the hall and made his way to the dungeons, the sound of gentle laughter echoing behind him.
Did they find him amusing? Was this to be his punishment for the indiscretion of his youth? Hadn't he paid enough with his pain over the years since then? Thank the Gods the Christmas break would empty the school soon. A complete break from temptation on legs was what he was in desperate need of...
It was the last Hogsmeade weekend before the Christmas holidays, and Harry, Ron, Ginny, Susan and Hermione planned to finish their shopping before they went home. Harry was spending Christmas with the Weasley's, as the necessity for keeping him at Hogwarts didn't exist anymore.
The girls split up from the boys and they all agreed to meet up in the Three Broomsticks later for butterbeer. Hermione had already done her shopping, but there was one more person to buy for. She entered the small bookshop tucked away next to the pub.
She greeted the owner and started browsing the shelves, intent on the titles and not where she was going. As she ran a finger over each spine she didn't spot the man standing there before it was too late. She ran into him and grabbed his robe before she overbalanced. Long arms snaked around her waist to steady her and she breathed in the now-familiar scent, her hands trapped between them.
"Sorry, didn't see you there... Professor?" her voice caught in her throat and she swallowed hard.
"I see there is no escape for me, even here."
God, his voice alone could melt knickers at fifty paces, she thought.
"Err.. I was looking for a book for my Dad.."
"Do you want some.. fatherly.. advice?" he bent over and spoke quietly in her ear, his lips brushing a curl there. A small squeak came from her throat, but she shook her head. He definitely didn't feel like her father, not with those muscles!
"Buy him some socks."
She staggered as he abruptly let her go and swept past her. She leant her head against the bookcase and noticed a book there. "The Art of Seduction" by Filibert S. Verungo. She was in the self-help section. What on earth had Severus been doing in here? She fingered the book, and on impulse, bought it. She'd buy her Dad a pair of socks, after all.....
Hermione was early, so she stood at the bar talking to Madam Rosmerta while she waited for the others. She spotted a small tattoo on Rosmerta's wrist and gently touched it.
"That's lovely" it was a tiny rose, just hidden by the cuff of her robe.
"Really? I remember when I got this. I was eighteen, and wanted to annoy my mother. It wasn't done, especially by nice girls." Rosmerta smiled.
"I don't want to annoy my parents, but I would like to get one."
"There's a small place in Diagon Alley. I'll draw you a map." Rosmerta grabbed a napkin. "Just one piece of advice, though. Get it done in a place where only one person is likely to see. You'll know it's there, and so will he. That can be quite... arousing." She winked. Hermione gaped at her, blushing. Rosmerta pushed the napkin over to her just as Harry and Ron came through the door. She quickly folded it and put it in her robe pocket. She could visit Diagon Alley while she was in London over the holidays.
The end of term feast was spectacular, tiny baubles and stars twinkled above the tables that were loaded with every possible food you could think of. Presents had been exchanged and they would be leaving on the Hogwarts Express the next day.
Hermione looked up at the top table. Snape was on the end, clearly not enjoying himself. He stared back at her and his eyes dropped to her mouth. She licked her lips as his mouth parted slightly, thinking that her book had been one of the best buys she'd ever made. She knew he couldn't escape from the feast yet, Dumbledore expected all the teachers to stay until the end. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, the curls rippling down her back, and turned back to face her friends.
Severus clenched his fists on his thighs, a tension headache just beginning behind his eyes. It was going to be the longest two hours of his life. Two days previously he'd held her in his arms and inhaled her scent. There was something familiar about it that he couldn't quite place.... He glanced out over the hall. The tables had been cleared and the older students were planning on dancing. The younger ones were more interested in the exploding crackers.
Someone had conjured up a mirror ball, and sparkles of light whirled round the room. Lavender and Parvati were the first to step onto the dance floor, dragging a transformed Crabbe and Goyle behind them. The boys had been given the Brown and Patel treatment; robes that didn't show six inches of beefy shin and emphasised the breadth of shoulders; new haircuts that were gelled to show they did actually have foreheads.
Ron and Susan joined them and Ginny dragged Harry up too. Neville was surrounded by three sixth years, all vying for his attention.
"Shall we?" Draco bowed to Hermione, who grinned at him.
"I'd be delighted." She curtseyed. The music started and the teachers were surprised that it was a waltz. All five couples whirled around the room, which in turn encouraged the others to join them. Even Dumbledore and McGonegall circled the room sedately.
Severus sat in the shadows, brooding, as Draco spun Hermione round and round. She threw back her head, laughing at something he said, her pale throat gleaming in the light. He groaned. He was jealous - there, he'd admitted it to himself. Jealous of a seventeen-year-old boy who had the confidence to ask the most beautiful girl in the school to dance with him. He knew that he'd never be able to do that himself. It would mean the loss of his job if it were even hinted at that he had an interest in her, not to mention he was twice her age.
"Not dancing, Severus?" Remus sat down in the chair next to him. Severus snorted.
"When have you ever seen me join in such... frivolities?" he sneered.
"Point taken. Draco looks more relaxed now."
Remus and Sirius had taken Draco under their wing when Lucius had turned on his son for refusing to follow Voldemort. It had taken months of patience and kindness; Draco had been withdrawn and snappy, like a dog who had been beaten for years, and had preferred to brood alone. Severus had been too busy gathering information, and had felt guilty for not trying harder to bring him out of his self-imposed solitude.
Remus had enlisted the help of Hermione, Harry and Ron; and that hadn't been easy. There had been a lot of bad blood between them over the years, and that's what it had finally boiled down to. After a particularly vicious insult aimed at Hermione, Harry, not Ron, had launched himself at Draco. Wands were forgotten as it came down to the satisfying thump of fists on flesh. They had been equally matched; the years of Quidditch training has seen to that; both lightning fast. It had been a stalemate in the end; matching bruises, broken noses and bloody fists. A mutual respect had formed, together with a cautious friendship, particularly when Harry had roared with laughter at the sight of Draco's normally immaculate appearance totally destroyed. Mud and blood had smeared the pair of them, together with sweat and tears. It had been hard to appear dignified with snot hanging from the end of your nose.
They had spent an afternoon in the hospital wing having the damage repaired, but the ice had been cracked. Draco would never be part of their tight-knit group, but the hostilities had ceased. After all, there was still the rivalry between the houses to consider.
They both sat watching the dancing. Hermione swapped partners for each dance, the music changing each time. Robes had been discarded and party clothes showed that everyone had made an effort to look nice. She was wearing a shimmering rust-coloured affair with low back and spaghetti straps. She looked gorgeous.
"Everyone is more... relaxed." Severus muttered.
"Except you. You can be so uptight, Severus."
"I can be as loose as the next...." He unconsciously used Hermione's words.
"Prove it."
"What?!"
"Prove it. Dance with a student. I dare you."
"I don't have time for such idiotic games, Lupin." He glowered.
"The dare stands, Severus. You have until the end of the school year. Then I'm telling everyone that the hero of the final battle is...chicken." Remus clucked and flapped his elbows.
"What's this? Is it the Birdie Song next?" Dumbledore looked excited. Severus rolled his eyes and stood up.
"I've had enough of this... insanity. I'm going to retire."
"You're too young!" Minerva hiccoughed (someone had obviously spiked her pumpkin juice).
"I refuse to respond to that, Minerva. " he bit out, and stormed off.
"Always has to have the last word." Sirius threw his arm around Remus' neck and hugged him. Remus sniffed.
"You've spiked the juice." He accused.
"Had to liven it up with something, didn't I? Anyway, us teachers need something stronger." He squeezed his partners' backside discreetly. Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Time to wrap the party up, I think." And he stood up.
It was a bleary-eyed group of students who made their way onto the Hogwarts Express the next day. Hermione and the others found their usual compartment and played games or read (in her case) until the train pulled into Platform 9 3/4 of Kings Cross station.
Hermione had a few hours to kill before her connecting train was due, and she had a good idea about how she was going to spend them. Saying her farewells, she made her way to the tube station and caught one that would take her to Diagon Alley.
She checked the napkin again to see if she'd got the directions right. There was a discreet blue door with a small brass plate on it. "Mystic Ink" was all it said. She opened the door and entered a room that looked very much like her parents' surgery. A old witch sat behind a desk and covering the wall behind her were hundreds of designs. The colours glowed like a kaleidoscope, and Hermione wondered how on earth she was going to choose one.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes. Madam Rosmerta recommended you to me."
"Ah yes. Rose - left wrist. One of my prettier designs."
"You remember?"
"I remember all of them."
"Not related to Ollivander, are you?"
"Sister. How did you guess?"
"He remembers every wand."
"Hmm, must be a family trait." She smiled at Hermione. "Any idea what you want?"
"Something small."
"This is a big decision, dear. The tattoos are magical, and more often than not they choose you. Very much like a wand."
Hermione had visions of a Hippogriff across her back.
"Shall we see what there is? You don't have to go through with it, you know. There's always a muggle parlour in the next street."
Hermione straightened her back and nodded her head. The witch gathered four large, leather-bound books and showed Hermione to a sofa.
"Pass your hand over each page, dear. If your design is in here, it will glow. Gryffindor? Try the red book first."
Hermione opened the book carefully and did as she was told. Nothing. She picked up the blue book. Nothing there either. The ochre book didn't even spark at her. She picked up the green book reluctantly. It was looking like she'd have to scratch her goal off her list. The book hummed in her hand as she opened it. No sooner had she turned the page when a small glow started and a design became apparent.
"My, my. Never had that happen before." the old witch was surprised.
"What happens now?" Hermione stared at the design.
"Take your robe off, dear and lay down on the bench. This will only take a moment." Madam Ollivander went to a filing cabinet and picked out a piece of parchment. She waved her wand over it and went back to Hermione who was feeling a little nervous.
"Hold out your hand. The tattoo will decide where it wants to be. It won't be fixed until I complete the spell. You have the final say. Understand?"
Hermione nodded and watched as the design disappeared up her sleeve. It tickled as it made its way over her body. After five minutes she felt a warmth spreading over one part. She looked up.
"Is it supposed to do that? Be hot?"
"Yes, dear. Can I see?"
Hermione blushed, unzipped her skirt and stood up. She was eternally grateful that Madam Ollivander was female.
There, just below the waist of her black satin and lace knickers, just by her hipbone, glowed the tattoo. Madam eased the lace away from the design.
"Do you want to look first, before you decide?"
"Yes please."
Madam showed Hermione to a cubicle with a full-length mirror. Hermione looked at her reflection. A cropped t-shirt hugged her breasts and midriff, leaving a good eight inches of flesh bare. Hold-ups covered her legs while her knickers made them look longer by being of the high-cut variety. She pulled the lace away very much as Madam had, and tilted her head to one side for a better look. Then nodded. No one would know, and her underwear would cover it. She wasn't too sure about the design, though. It had been a bit of a shock. She pulled the curtain back and lay down again on the bench.
"OK. Do it." Was all she said. Madam waved her wand and there was a slight burning sensation. The glow faded from her hip and it was done. There was no need for a dressing or aftercare, not with a magical tattoo. Hermione ran a finger over it and felt the soft skin there. Then she smiled secretly.
There was only one person she wanted to see this.....
TBC
A/N: Thanks again for the reviews. I have changed my profile to accept anonymous reviews as I have had problems logging in to ff.net.
There was a reference to two shampoo ads in the previous chapter, not one, sorry.
There'll be more of Snape in this chapter, as I want to get things from his angle now.
Chapter 4 - Tattoo, or not tattoo?
Snape watched as a vision of loveliness entered the great hall in front of Lavender and Parvati. Milk chocolate coloured curls cascaded down her back and shimmered as she sat down. She'd entered the room like a queen; head high with a small smile curving her pink lips.
He wondered who had been on the receiving end of her attentions this week. For the sake of his sanity he'd avoided the Astronomy tower on his nightly rounds. It was a wonder her studies hadn't been affected, but according to the other teachers she was way ahead of the other students, as usual. If he'd been a more sociable person in the past he may have been able to question them more, but it would have looked very odd if he showed a particular interest now.
He snorted. Black would have had a field day with him. He could hear the jibes now; cradle snatcher, pervert, peeping tom... he shuddered. The loss of house points were a sore spot with McGonegall, too. She'd asked him why he didn't just give Miss Granger a detention and get it over with. He'd suggested she keep a tighter rein on her students. He groaned at the thought of Hermione in a leather collar and very little else....
"Not feeling too well, Severus?" Dumbledore looked concerned.
"I feel perfectly fine, Headmaster." He bit out, his hand clenching his fork.
"Excellent, Severus. Is that Miss Granger down there? She looks different tonight."
"Radiant, yes, radiant!" Flitwick peered over the table at her.
"I saw her in the Library with Malfoy earlier." Remus said innocently, and gently squeezed Sirius' knee under the table, signalling that it was his turn. Sirius grinned.
"Can I get you a different fork, Severus? Looks like that one is a bit bent."
Minerva choked on her pumpkin juice as the chair scraped behind Snape.
"I have a potion to see to. I'll get something later from the kitchens." He exited the hall and made his way to the dungeons, the sound of gentle laughter echoing behind him.
Did they find him amusing? Was this to be his punishment for the indiscretion of his youth? Hadn't he paid enough with his pain over the years since then? Thank the Gods the Christmas break would empty the school soon. A complete break from temptation on legs was what he was in desperate need of...
It was the last Hogsmeade weekend before the Christmas holidays, and Harry, Ron, Ginny, Susan and Hermione planned to finish their shopping before they went home. Harry was spending Christmas with the Weasley's, as the necessity for keeping him at Hogwarts didn't exist anymore.
The girls split up from the boys and they all agreed to meet up in the Three Broomsticks later for butterbeer. Hermione had already done her shopping, but there was one more person to buy for. She entered the small bookshop tucked away next to the pub.
She greeted the owner and started browsing the shelves, intent on the titles and not where she was going. As she ran a finger over each spine she didn't spot the man standing there before it was too late. She ran into him and grabbed his robe before she overbalanced. Long arms snaked around her waist to steady her and she breathed in the now-familiar scent, her hands trapped between them.
"Sorry, didn't see you there... Professor?" her voice caught in her throat and she swallowed hard.
"I see there is no escape for me, even here."
God, his voice alone could melt knickers at fifty paces, she thought.
"Err.. I was looking for a book for my Dad.."
"Do you want some.. fatherly.. advice?" he bent over and spoke quietly in her ear, his lips brushing a curl there. A small squeak came from her throat, but she shook her head. He definitely didn't feel like her father, not with those muscles!
"Buy him some socks."
She staggered as he abruptly let her go and swept past her. She leant her head against the bookcase and noticed a book there. "The Art of Seduction" by Filibert S. Verungo. She was in the self-help section. What on earth had Severus been doing in here? She fingered the book, and on impulse, bought it. She'd buy her Dad a pair of socks, after all.....
Hermione was early, so she stood at the bar talking to Madam Rosmerta while she waited for the others. She spotted a small tattoo on Rosmerta's wrist and gently touched it.
"That's lovely" it was a tiny rose, just hidden by the cuff of her robe.
"Really? I remember when I got this. I was eighteen, and wanted to annoy my mother. It wasn't done, especially by nice girls." Rosmerta smiled.
"I don't want to annoy my parents, but I would like to get one."
"There's a small place in Diagon Alley. I'll draw you a map." Rosmerta grabbed a napkin. "Just one piece of advice, though. Get it done in a place where only one person is likely to see. You'll know it's there, and so will he. That can be quite... arousing." She winked. Hermione gaped at her, blushing. Rosmerta pushed the napkin over to her just as Harry and Ron came through the door. She quickly folded it and put it in her robe pocket. She could visit Diagon Alley while she was in London over the holidays.
The end of term feast was spectacular, tiny baubles and stars twinkled above the tables that were loaded with every possible food you could think of. Presents had been exchanged and they would be leaving on the Hogwarts Express the next day.
Hermione looked up at the top table. Snape was on the end, clearly not enjoying himself. He stared back at her and his eyes dropped to her mouth. She licked her lips as his mouth parted slightly, thinking that her book had been one of the best buys she'd ever made. She knew he couldn't escape from the feast yet, Dumbledore expected all the teachers to stay until the end. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, the curls rippling down her back, and turned back to face her friends.
Severus clenched his fists on his thighs, a tension headache just beginning behind his eyes. It was going to be the longest two hours of his life. Two days previously he'd held her in his arms and inhaled her scent. There was something familiar about it that he couldn't quite place.... He glanced out over the hall. The tables had been cleared and the older students were planning on dancing. The younger ones were more interested in the exploding crackers.
Someone had conjured up a mirror ball, and sparkles of light whirled round the room. Lavender and Parvati were the first to step onto the dance floor, dragging a transformed Crabbe and Goyle behind them. The boys had been given the Brown and Patel treatment; robes that didn't show six inches of beefy shin and emphasised the breadth of shoulders; new haircuts that were gelled to show they did actually have foreheads.
Ron and Susan joined them and Ginny dragged Harry up too. Neville was surrounded by three sixth years, all vying for his attention.
"Shall we?" Draco bowed to Hermione, who grinned at him.
"I'd be delighted." She curtseyed. The music started and the teachers were surprised that it was a waltz. All five couples whirled around the room, which in turn encouraged the others to join them. Even Dumbledore and McGonegall circled the room sedately.
Severus sat in the shadows, brooding, as Draco spun Hermione round and round. She threw back her head, laughing at something he said, her pale throat gleaming in the light. He groaned. He was jealous - there, he'd admitted it to himself. Jealous of a seventeen-year-old boy who had the confidence to ask the most beautiful girl in the school to dance with him. He knew that he'd never be able to do that himself. It would mean the loss of his job if it were even hinted at that he had an interest in her, not to mention he was twice her age.
"Not dancing, Severus?" Remus sat down in the chair next to him. Severus snorted.
"When have you ever seen me join in such... frivolities?" he sneered.
"Point taken. Draco looks more relaxed now."
Remus and Sirius had taken Draco under their wing when Lucius had turned on his son for refusing to follow Voldemort. It had taken months of patience and kindness; Draco had been withdrawn and snappy, like a dog who had been beaten for years, and had preferred to brood alone. Severus had been too busy gathering information, and had felt guilty for not trying harder to bring him out of his self-imposed solitude.
Remus had enlisted the help of Hermione, Harry and Ron; and that hadn't been easy. There had been a lot of bad blood between them over the years, and that's what it had finally boiled down to. After a particularly vicious insult aimed at Hermione, Harry, not Ron, had launched himself at Draco. Wands were forgotten as it came down to the satisfying thump of fists on flesh. They had been equally matched; the years of Quidditch training has seen to that; both lightning fast. It had been a stalemate in the end; matching bruises, broken noses and bloody fists. A mutual respect had formed, together with a cautious friendship, particularly when Harry had roared with laughter at the sight of Draco's normally immaculate appearance totally destroyed. Mud and blood had smeared the pair of them, together with sweat and tears. It had been hard to appear dignified with snot hanging from the end of your nose.
They had spent an afternoon in the hospital wing having the damage repaired, but the ice had been cracked. Draco would never be part of their tight-knit group, but the hostilities had ceased. After all, there was still the rivalry between the houses to consider.
They both sat watching the dancing. Hermione swapped partners for each dance, the music changing each time. Robes had been discarded and party clothes showed that everyone had made an effort to look nice. She was wearing a shimmering rust-coloured affair with low back and spaghetti straps. She looked gorgeous.
"Everyone is more... relaxed." Severus muttered.
"Except you. You can be so uptight, Severus."
"I can be as loose as the next...." He unconsciously used Hermione's words.
"Prove it."
"What?!"
"Prove it. Dance with a student. I dare you."
"I don't have time for such idiotic games, Lupin." He glowered.
"The dare stands, Severus. You have until the end of the school year. Then I'm telling everyone that the hero of the final battle is...chicken." Remus clucked and flapped his elbows.
"What's this? Is it the Birdie Song next?" Dumbledore looked excited. Severus rolled his eyes and stood up.
"I've had enough of this... insanity. I'm going to retire."
"You're too young!" Minerva hiccoughed (someone had obviously spiked her pumpkin juice).
"I refuse to respond to that, Minerva. " he bit out, and stormed off.
"Always has to have the last word." Sirius threw his arm around Remus' neck and hugged him. Remus sniffed.
"You've spiked the juice." He accused.
"Had to liven it up with something, didn't I? Anyway, us teachers need something stronger." He squeezed his partners' backside discreetly. Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Time to wrap the party up, I think." And he stood up.
It was a bleary-eyed group of students who made their way onto the Hogwarts Express the next day. Hermione and the others found their usual compartment and played games or read (in her case) until the train pulled into Platform 9 3/4 of Kings Cross station.
Hermione had a few hours to kill before her connecting train was due, and she had a good idea about how she was going to spend them. Saying her farewells, she made her way to the tube station and caught one that would take her to Diagon Alley.
She checked the napkin again to see if she'd got the directions right. There was a discreet blue door with a small brass plate on it. "Mystic Ink" was all it said. She opened the door and entered a room that looked very much like her parents' surgery. A old witch sat behind a desk and covering the wall behind her were hundreds of designs. The colours glowed like a kaleidoscope, and Hermione wondered how on earth she was going to choose one.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes. Madam Rosmerta recommended you to me."
"Ah yes. Rose - left wrist. One of my prettier designs."
"You remember?"
"I remember all of them."
"Not related to Ollivander, are you?"
"Sister. How did you guess?"
"He remembers every wand."
"Hmm, must be a family trait." She smiled at Hermione. "Any idea what you want?"
"Something small."
"This is a big decision, dear. The tattoos are magical, and more often than not they choose you. Very much like a wand."
Hermione had visions of a Hippogriff across her back.
"Shall we see what there is? You don't have to go through with it, you know. There's always a muggle parlour in the next street."
Hermione straightened her back and nodded her head. The witch gathered four large, leather-bound books and showed Hermione to a sofa.
"Pass your hand over each page, dear. If your design is in here, it will glow. Gryffindor? Try the red book first."
Hermione opened the book carefully and did as she was told. Nothing. She picked up the blue book. Nothing there either. The ochre book didn't even spark at her. She picked up the green book reluctantly. It was looking like she'd have to scratch her goal off her list. The book hummed in her hand as she opened it. No sooner had she turned the page when a small glow started and a design became apparent.
"My, my. Never had that happen before." the old witch was surprised.
"What happens now?" Hermione stared at the design.
"Take your robe off, dear and lay down on the bench. This will only take a moment." Madam Ollivander went to a filing cabinet and picked out a piece of parchment. She waved her wand over it and went back to Hermione who was feeling a little nervous.
"Hold out your hand. The tattoo will decide where it wants to be. It won't be fixed until I complete the spell. You have the final say. Understand?"
Hermione nodded and watched as the design disappeared up her sleeve. It tickled as it made its way over her body. After five minutes she felt a warmth spreading over one part. She looked up.
"Is it supposed to do that? Be hot?"
"Yes, dear. Can I see?"
Hermione blushed, unzipped her skirt and stood up. She was eternally grateful that Madam Ollivander was female.
There, just below the waist of her black satin and lace knickers, just by her hipbone, glowed the tattoo. Madam eased the lace away from the design.
"Do you want to look first, before you decide?"
"Yes please."
Madam showed Hermione to a cubicle with a full-length mirror. Hermione looked at her reflection. A cropped t-shirt hugged her breasts and midriff, leaving a good eight inches of flesh bare. Hold-ups covered her legs while her knickers made them look longer by being of the high-cut variety. She pulled the lace away very much as Madam had, and tilted her head to one side for a better look. Then nodded. No one would know, and her underwear would cover it. She wasn't too sure about the design, though. It had been a bit of a shock. She pulled the curtain back and lay down again on the bench.
"OK. Do it." Was all she said. Madam waved her wand and there was a slight burning sensation. The glow faded from her hip and it was done. There was no need for a dressing or aftercare, not with a magical tattoo. Hermione ran a finger over it and felt the soft skin there. Then she smiled secretly.
There was only one person she wanted to see this.....
TBC