Diagon Alley was busy. Shoppers bustled back and forth, chattering pleasantly under the warm spring sunshine. It had been the first nice day in a long while, and everyone seemed happy to get outside.

Outside the newest shop on the street stood a couple. The petite brunette rubbed the back of a tall redhead softly. Inside the store, a burly looking wizard with hair everywhere on his body cried out in pain.

"I can't do it," Ron gulped. His face was pale, and he flinched every time the wizard inside yelped. Hermione could feel Ron tremble against her touch.

"Oh, come on, Ronald. You've been through a lot worse!"

"Like what?" He turned to face her, a frown wrinkling his forehead.

"You stood up on a broken leg to protect Harry and me during our third year," she responded simply.

"Yeah, but that was different circumstances."

"So if I got Lupin to come here and threaten me, you would do it?"

"Yeah. Why don't you go dig the poor guy up from his grave?" Ron chuckled nervously. He stopped wringing his hands long enough to reach up and rub the back of his neck.

Hermione decided to change tact, shifting from tough love to a softer approach.

"But I've already had mine done. All for you. You were the one who said you wanted to match me." She nuzzled closer to him, opening her eyes wide and pouting her lips. She gave her boyfriend a look that always made sure she got her way.

"Oh bloody hell, woman, don't use that face on me. You know what it does." Ron sighed, resigned to the fact that this was going to happen. He rested his head against her and closed his eyes, his lips moving in a silent mantra. Suddenly, he pulled himself upright and steadied his shoulders. "Okay, let's get this over with then."

⁂

An hour later, the couple walked out of the shop, Ron's upper arm firmly bandaged.

"That wasn't too bad." He stated, his chest puffed out proudly.

"I know, love. I've had my own done too."

"Yeah, but mine is bigger, so it hurt a lot more. And it was right over the muscle."

Hermione squeezed her lips together tightly. She wanted to remind him that it wasn't a competition. She managed to sit quietly through her tattoo, talking to the artist while he worked. Ron wailed the entire time and asked for countless breaks. His threshold for pain was a lot lower than hers. She wasn't going to shame him for that, though, or run the risk of ruining their lovely romantic day otherwise.

"I think the feather was a lovely idea," she said instead. "It will remind you of how much I like to nag you."

The tattoo didn't change colour with Ron's pulse like Hermione's. Instead, the feather looked silver in one light, then gold in the other. It flexed with his muscles and looked like it was flying, even when he was still.

"Yeah, but I need nagging, don't I?" He stopped in his tracks, giving her a sheepish smile.

"All the time." She reached up on tiptoes and planted a firm kiss on his lips. "Now come on, I think lunch in the Leaky is next on the list."

"Brilliant!" Ron linked his fingers with hers and started to pull her down the street happily.