Blaise rarely tattooed anyone while they were drunk, but Theo was proving himself to be a very costly exception. He was slurring slightly, but otherwise, he seemed sober.
"Are you sure?" Blaise asked, blinking, bored. He cleaned the tip of the bone needle he used for magical tattoos - made from the bones of a Thestral, and he'd never been so thankful for his mother's little black widow habit. Thank you, husband #3, whose name Blaise had erased from his memory. Or was it husband #4? All Blaise remembered was that it had happened on the Year of the Three Husbands. He remembered his mother saying it had been a lovely time to wear black.
Blaise was something of Hogwarts professional tattoo artist. He was a talented artist precisely because he enjoyed poking people with sharp things, so why not combine the two into a source of extra cash? He had even managed to put his art onto some of Hogwarts more illustrious and infamous: Viktor Krum when he visited, Draco, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, technically he had tattooed Trelawney but that had been for a grade, and even Harry Potter had been put underneath his needle. Every single one of them (okay, maybe Trelawney not so much) had been sober.
Theo, his childhood friend, swayed on the spot.
"Yeah, pretty sure." Theo slurred, holding the bag of Galleons on his hand. If he accepted that honestly bad idea money, he'd be able to afford a nice, lengthy trip to Greece just in time to escape being recruited into the Death Eaters.
Blaise eyed the proposed design. Voldemort would have both their heads, if the tattoo came to light.
"It has wings. It'll fly on your skin." He tapped the wand on the rather crude drawing Theo had brought him, and it tried and fly off in shaky, badly drawn wings.
Theo shrugged, sat down on the floor.
"It's fine, Blaise." He said, taking off his shirt, revealing scarred skin. Blaise stared, blatantly: perhaps this was a way to make his father pay, as well. Three heads for the price of one.
Blaise hastened his plans to go to Greece. Maybe he could give up a little bit of comfort, if it meant being safe.
"Alright, then. You can rest on the chair while I draw it for you." Blaise nodded to the transfigured school desks he'd made into comfortable chairs, and Theo, with a clumsy nod, all but crawled there. "Man, you're really drunk."
"Shut it." Theo slurred back, and Blaise shrugged.
He worked fast on that one, and soon, he perfected Theo's little drawing. It wouldn't be bigger than a palm, maybe, and it would look delicate until one took view of the full picture.
Blaise took a deep breath, remembered he was being paid, and gently nudged Theo awake. The boy blinked, confused, and not sober in the least.
"Alright, where?" Blaise asked, and Theo, turning, gestured to the area he remembered seeing Draco's Death Eater mark being. He rose an eyebrow. "Again, and for the last time - are you sure?"
"Yes, Blaise." Theo seemed irritated, and since Blaise wanted to keep Theo's money, he stayed quiet. He rolled his shoulders, grabbed the Thestral bone needle, and set to work.
When he was done, Blaise hated to admit that had been his best work yet. Merlin be damned, he'd have to add it to his portfolio at a later date, if Theo allowed.
In the next morning, Theo slid by his side, looking vaguely embarrassed. Blaise ignored him, eating his breakfast like nothing had happened.
"So, uh, about last night -"
"All tattoos are permanent, and you paid me well enough that I could oversee you being drunk." Blaise replied, blinking boredly as he read the news. Ah, yes, more government propaganda. He could even spot the obituary for husband #7.
"It's a flying dick, Blaise." He clutched his arm, where the tattoo should've been, but again, it had wings. Tattoos with wings tended to move around more than tattoos without wings. Blaise usually spelled them to avoid visible areas: most of the tattoos he gave were secrets.
"The technical term is fascinus." Blaise replied, and Theo rolled his eyes. "Listen, Theo. You can run away. Your father doesn't have a tracker spell on you - I know he doesn't because it would've clashed with the tattoo's magic -, so you need not resort to such petty tricks."
His lip trembled. Blaise averted his eyes, and went back to reading, leaving Theo with his thoughts. He had been paid for a service, and further discussions were out of his realm of knowledge.
"Would you take me with you?" Theo asked, in a low voice, and Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Listen - I know you're planning on running away as soon as the year's over. Let me go with you."
Blaise had something of a soft spot for Theo, admittedly. They were childhood friends, and Blaise had kept Theo in his house during the worst of his father's rages. Even his mother saw Theo as something of a son, too - the gifts the boy received were all from her.
"Fine." Blaise replied, turning a page of the newspaper, and Theo gave him the first genuine smile in years. "Hope you like the sun."
"I'll like anything but what father has planned for me."
Blaise did not reply. He simply put his hand atop Theo's, and offered him a comforting squeeze to his hand. It was all he could do.