AN: Guys, not gonna lie, I cried a little at the reviews you've left for the first two chapters. Y'all are too sweet and made my week! Here's chapter three, as always let me know what you think. Love you all!
The three friends had stayed up late into the night, finished their bottle of firewhiskey and broken into a second one, all while discussing Theo's recent visit to Hermione's tattoo shop. Blaise and Draco had been grilling him and asking every question they could think of about tattoos, the shop, and his experience. They had finally lapsed into a thoughtful silence.
Blaise was sprawled on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling, most likely only a few drinks away from blacking out. Theo was sat on the floor nursing his drink and inspecting his tattoo; the awe still hadn't faded from his eyes. Draco was staring into the fire in his fireplace trying to wrap his head around the fact that Hermione Granger had given one of his best mates a tattoo.
Hermione Granger.
Gryffindor Golden Girl.
Merlin's Favorite Prude.
The Next Minerva McGonagall.
When had she gone and become a - what was it - a tattoo artist?
Draco shook his head and took another long sip of his drink, the familiar burn rushing through his lungs and chest. Swirling the amber liquid in his glass, he considered the last time he had seen her. It had to gave been several years now.
After the War had ended, after the quiet had set in and the reconstruction had begun, they had run into each other in one of the destroyed halls of Hogwarts. They had stared at each other, each searching the other for Merlin knows what, wands held tightly in their hands.
Hermione had finally broken the silence and said, "Tell your Mother I said thank you."
He had nodded, knowing she was referring to the lie Narcissa had told in the Forbidden Forest, the lie that had not only saved Harry Potter but had brought about the end of Voldemort's reign of terror. If only they had been able to act sooner.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
She started, surprised by his kindness.
He could see a shimmer of tears cover her eyes, but they were swiftly blinked away and the hardness returned.
"I'm sorry for yours as well."
Draco nodded again, this time in thanks, and glanced around the hallway unsure if he should stay or go.
Hermione shuffled her feet and without looking at him said, "Thank you for changing your mind. There at the end." She frowned slightly and shoved some hair that had fallen loose out of her face. "It took bravery to give Harry that wand."
"I should have been braver sooner."
Her frown deepened, this time directed at him. "We were children."
Were. As if they were no longer children. As though they hadn't been students only a few weeks ago. Moments ago. As though they weren't standing in a war zone that had once been their school, that should still be their school.
They stared at each other a moment longer, the silence filled with apologies, respect, and regret. The quiet, unspoken things that they couldn't find the words to express. A heartbeat or two passed before they started moving again to repair the hallway they stood in. They worked quietly, side by side, until the hallway showed almost no signs of the horrors that had occurred only a few hours before.
He was unsettled by how easily the remnants of war could be hidden.
Hermione caught his eye again, an unreadable expression in those once-warm brown eyes. She sighed softly and it almost echoed in the quiet hallway. He watched the weight of the world settle itself once more upon her shoulders, and then watched her leave.
He hadn't seen her since.
How had that haunted, quiet bookworm turned into this confident artist that Theo had met? Had it been anyone else, Draco might have been tempted to visit. Not for lack of trying on Theo's part; he had tried countless times to convince Draco to go get his dark mark covered.
He wanted to, Merlin, did he want to. But he had far too much pride and far too much bad blood with Granger to ever step foot in that place. Maybe if he was lucky someone else would learn how to cover his dark mark. Granger always had the irritating need to impart her knowledge on others. It wouldn't be long before she had a following of apprentices. He could wait until then.
—..—
Rita Skeeter was livid.
She had written the most delicious article on one Daphne Greengrass cheating on her husband with none other than fellow graduate and notorious halfblood Tracy Davis. It was the biggest exposé of the year. At least it should have been, but that air-headed witch over at the Quibbler had put out an article detailing the opening of some shop owned by Hermione Granger.
Rita scowled darkly. Hermione Granger. That witch had been a thorn in her side since the brat was fourteen. Rita had thought she'd finally been rid of her when Granger disappeared three years ago. Her life had been easy, free to write all the half-truths and horrible scandals her heart could desire. Granger had been stupid enough not to tell anyone about her animagus form, so she was able to continue her… creative information gathering techniques. But her luck had run out.
Despite her best efforts, the Wizarding World had welcomed Granger back with open arms. No one seemed to care where she had been, and Rita had been unable to find any hints of what the witch had been up to, much to her disappointment. So she had thrown a few speculations out for the public to enjoy, just far enough into the realm of conjecture to keep her out of Granger's cross hairs. At least for now.
And now there was news of some new store, something muggle of course, and Rita had been the last to know about it.
She hated being the last to know things.
Which is why she found herself crouched between two buildings in Diagon Alley, trying her best to ignore the disgusting, grimy walls pressing against her. Sacrificing her professional, pink robes would be well worth it if she was able to get any sort of disparaging information on Granger.
She wasn't even entirely sure what kind of information she was looking for. No matter how hard she had worked in the past to tear down her pristine reputation, Hermione Granger had always managed to avoid any kind of public scandal. She was as perfect as they came, and it infuriated Rita to no end. No rumor or poorly angled photo seemed to stick; Granger was the Wizarding World's infallible princess.
"Not anymore," Rita swore quietly to herself.
She inched along the buildings until she found the window she was looking for and peered in. In front of her was an unobstructed view into Virago's back office. Swiftly casting a disillusionment charm, Rita tucked herself against the wall and waited.
To her delight, Rita didn't have to wait long.
Hermione Granger came bustling into her office with her usual, irritatingly exuberant energy. She was laughing at something, quite loudly Rita noted with a sneer. She started to consider an article on Granger's lack of fashion sense, but was immediately distracted when someone else walked into the office.
What was Theodore Nott doing in Hermione Granger's personal office?
A sly grin twisted Rita's features into an expression that most would find deeply unsettling. She lifted the magical camera that dangled around her neck and snapped a few shots of the pair. To any outsiders they looked innocent enough, but with just the right headline…
The sound of a small beetle laughing was even more unsettling than Rita Skeeter's smile. Thankfully, no one was around to hear it.
—..—
"Theodore, it hasn't even been two full days since your last appointment!" Hermione exclaimed with a grin.
He had shown up back in her shop with a list of ideas and enthusiasm to match. Despite her teasing, she was thankful he had decided to come back.
"I know, but it healed quite nicely. Besides, I didn't think you had a wait period between appointments."
"I don't, but still -"
He cut her off with a wave of his hand and a smile. "Then go ahead and schedule me in."
She shook her head. "I have to admit, your enthusiasm is appreciated."
He leaned back against her desk and looked down at the sketch he had brought with him. "Is my enthusiasm enough to get this done?"
Hermione held her hand out for the design and gave it a quick once over. "I don't see why not." Her gaze roved back and forth between his shoulder and the design several times. "It will take less time than before considering the area is far less tender, and we won't have the dark mark to contend with."
Theodore quirked an eyebrow at her from his position leaned against the side of her desk. "You don't mind that it isn't your design?"
"Not at all." She handed the paper back to him and smiled slyly. "If you want mediocre art permanently on your body, that's entirely your prerogative."
"Me-mediocre?" he sputtered indignantly.
"Perhaps that was too harsh." She tapped a finger against her chin. "Average?"
"Average?" he demanded even more loudly. "I'll have you know -"
She laughed at his wide-eyed, offended expression and held her hands out in a placating gesture. "Alright, alright. You're drawing is quite good."
Theodore huffed and crossed his arms.
Resisting the urge to comment on his pouting, she conceded, "I would be happy to tattoo your design."
He gave her a side-eye and frowned. "Do you mean it?"
"Of course I do," she said with a roll of her eyes. "You're an excellent artist, Theodore. Although your ego could stand to be brought down a few notches."
Regardless, his chest puffed up slightly at her compliment. "I think it will work well with the work you've already done, don't you?"
She moved to stand next to him and peered down at the drawing from over his shoulder. "I have to agree, the colors will work nicely with what you already have." She bit her lip gently and added, "Maybe with a little tweaking…"
"Oh come off it!"
After his second appointment, Theodore and Hermione settled into a decent rhythm. He stopped by every few days with a new idea or design he wanted to add and they worked to cover his arm from wrist to shoulder in a combination of their beautiful designs. Within a few weeks, Theodore boasted a full tattoo sleeve on his left arm.
They had taken the leaves and scrolls from Hermione's original design on his forearm and extended them up towards his shoulder where they met with a cluster of pale yellow peonies. They had been his mother's favorite flowers before she passed, and he wanted them as a reminder of her.
Hermione had been more than happy to add them, and had even added a little extra magic to them. She had been working on a spell similar to the protean charms which warmed when a new message was received, but with a unique twist. Rather than warm when Hermione sent it a message, the yellow peonies would warm slightly whenever Theodore murmured his mother's name to them.
Theodore had done his best to remain stoic when she had discussed the idea with him, but it had been nearly as emotional of an appointment as his first visit.
He had grown to enjoy their conversations together while Hermione worked. He had known she was an intelligent witch, but their mutual love for Shakespeare, potions, and drawing had allowed an easy friendship to bloom between them. He had even told her to call him 'Theo', a sign of friendship he didn't extend to just anyone.
Hermione was thankful for his frequent appointments. Aside from a few of her school friends, not many witches or wizards tended to stop by her shop more than once. She hadn't expected to be enthusiastically welcomed by the wizarding community, but she had hoped for a bit more business than she was getting. Theodore's visits made the quiet emptiness of her shop weigh just a little less on her shoulders.
She had tried to mention in a casual, off-hand manner that Theo could bring other Slytherins to her shop, but he had seemed opposed to the idea so she had let it drop. She understood why most of them wouldn't want to come by, but she couldn't deny the disappointment she felt.
"Are there any old school mates you know that might be interested in getting a tattoo?"
Theodore hadn't looked up from the book he was reading in one of her armchairs, but she had seen the way his shoulder tensed for the fraction of a second.
"No," he said casually. "I don't think any of them would be."
Hermione had remained quiet for a moment, thinking about how to word what she wanted to say. "I want this to be a place where anyone from anywhere can come and feel welcome," she said carefully, making sure he understood her intentions. "Whether they need healing, or to get something covered, or just a way to express themselves, I want this to be a place anyone can turn to."
She had been hesitant to meet his gaze, but when she did she found a him gazing back at her with a shocked expression.
"You really mean that."
It wasn't a question so much as a statement, as if he were verbalizing a conclusion he had just come to.
"Of course I do."
They hadn't said anything after that, but Hermione knew she had gotten her point across. She only hoped her invitation would reach the right people.
That had been several days ago, and Hermione had grown anxious. Theo hadn't been by her shop in that time and hadn't sent her any owls with new designs or appointment times. She knew he most likely had things to do, maybe even a job, but she still felt his absence acutely in her quiet office. A small fear that she had crossed some boundary was slowly creeping in. She tried to busy herself with sporadic appointments and researching new ways of incorporating magic into her tattoos, but she soon realized she had grown rather fond of him. Dare she say it, she missed him.
Hermione was so preoccupied by her thoughts that when her office door burst open with a flutter of activity, a rush of startled adrenaline had her lurching to her feet and scrambling for her wand. She let out a breath of relief when she saw Ginny and Luna sprawled across her office floor.
"Honestly," she grouched with her hands on her hips. "Don't you two know how to enter a room like normal people?"
Luna smiled sheepishly from the floor and pushed herself up and off of Ginny. "Apologies, Hermione. We let our excitement get the best of us and tripped over each other's feet. Which is rather impressive considering they are attached to someone else's legs."
Ginny blew some of her hair out of her face and gave Luna an unimpressed look. "It's not that impressive, Luna. You trip over your own feet all the time."
Luna shrugged and looked rather unapologetic.
"What are you both so excited about that you couldn't manage a door or feet properly?"
"Oh," Ginny exclaimed and rushed over to Hermione's desk. "We wanted to bring you this."
Hermione arched an eyebrow at the newspaper that was dumped unceremoniously onto her desk. It was a copy of the Daily Prophet.
"Why would you bring me this rubbish? You know I prefer the Quibbler."
Luna threw Ginny a rather smug look. "That's what I said, but Ginny was too busy going on about whatever that horribly buzzing lady wrote on the front page."
Hermione ignored Luna's odd description and flipped the newspaper over to read the front page. When she saw the photos printed there, she froze.
Plastered across the front page were several photos of her and Theodore in her shop. One was the two of them laughing, another of her giving him a hug before he left, but the last was the most damning. It was a photo of her leaning over his shoulder to look at his design, but from the angle it was taken it looked as though she were resting her head against his.
She felt her heart drop straight into her stomach when she read the headline:
Granger and Nott looking to tie the knot?