Chapter 2.

It had taken Charlie the work of a couple of moments to convince the older wizards of the benefits of Harry seeing an eye healer. It took him even less time to disguise his most telling features and apparate them both to Diagon Alley.

"Where are we going?" asked Harry, a slight smile on his face, and Charlie's infectious mood soaking into his every fibre.

"First, the Eye Healer for a quick spell or two, a change of glasses and perhaps some contacts, and then, we're off to see a wizard."

Despite the changed feel of Diagon Alley; the anxious looks of the shoppers, how no one stopped to chat anymore, the sombre ministry posters and the seedy sellers of dubious goods in shabby stores; Harry's good mood could not be quite quelled. It was good to be out of the house.

The Eye Healer was situated just off Diagon Alley on Kettering Corner, it was a clean and airy place with an empty waiting room, it didn't take Harry long to wait before the healer called him in.

The Eye Healer frowned as he examined Harry's eyes. "Oh yes. Most definitely. I can do some good here with a quick spell or two, but they will be slow working ones that will work for a month or so to continuously fix your vision. In the meantime, can I suggest a pair of square rimmed frames for you? They will suit you more than your current round ones, and I can give them numerous enchantments. Or perhaps contacts... they're better for Quidditch and such like, and much more flattering. I think I'll spell you up for a pair of both. Oh no, It's no bother. Pick them up in about four hours, they'll be ready them. In the meantime, I'll set some spells down. What did you say your name was again?"

"Dudley." Said Harry quickly.

"Right. Chubley. Are you all fine with that?"

"Whatever's best," said Charlie. "we'll be back in about four hours. See you then."

The healer nodded gruffly and called the next person in, a short tubby witch who squinted slightly at Harry and Charlie as they passed, Harry flattened his fringe nervously while Charlie just grinned. He apparated them when they were outside, to the mouth of an alley just off a busy muggle road that Harry did not recognise.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked Charlie as he tugged Harry down a side alley before anyone noticed them, or their sudden appearance.

"You want a way to always remember Cedric, yeah?" Said Charlie as Harry nodded, "What do you think of a tattoo?"

"You serious?"

There was a pause as Charlie turned left into a short lane with washing hanging high above them in flapping lines along the brick walls of high buildings, then Harry continued, "Your mother would go spare."

"I know."

"Are you mad?"

"No."

"But... a tattoo? Seriously?"

"Yes." Said Charlie. "It won't come off your skin unless you want it to, it won't fade like a photograph or a memory, but most of all," he said, pausing to look at Harry intently, "It becomes a part of you, as much a part of you as flesh and blood and more tangible than a memory. With something like that, if you get it for a reason, you won't ever forget that reason."

Harry's breath seemed to still and time slow for a moment, the tick and turn of the world in unison with the beating of his own heart, before he said. "Charlie. Will you take me there?"

Charlie smiled at him, sweetness lying close to his bones. "Of course Harry. Of course."

Then he and Harry turned down another thin and winding back street and they were both lost in a confusing maze of alley and lanes tingling with the feel of steadily strengthening magic.

Spell's Tattoo was hidden away down a wide alley where the sun curled warmly on the mixed coloured cobbles and almost vibrated with the murmur of life and magic. The place seemed to collect shops as eclectic as the people who gathered there. Noise was bubbles and bursts of sound, laughter and cheerful speech. It quite unlike the harried and anxious looks of the shoppers in Diagon Alley. There was not a ministry poster in sight, and the dodgy hawkers with their dubious wares were conspicuously missing. It felt safe, as if once you were here, you were protected from harm, as if the troubles that hounded the wizarding world stopped at a certain point and could go no further.

Amongst the shops, Harry could see a patisserie from which enticing smells wafted, juices gushed in his mouth at the smell and he swallowed trying to focus on the clothes shop next to it. Not that Harry could see any traditional robes, or anything that he'd seen in Madame Malkin's – the clothes were muggle in influence, though obviously magic. No trench coat in the muggle world would have a lining that reflected the sky in wheeling white clouds and painful blue colours.

Passing them on both sides, were people who only seemed more and more exotic; there was a lady selling strings of tiny flames in jars in a rainbow of colours to a woman in white platform boots and a pointed hat on which a tiny owl perched. The owl turned and stared at Harry as he passed, Harry ignoring the owl to stare at a shop that he thought Hermione would go into spasms of delight over. Iris's Tea Story hade chairs spilling out onto the cobbles, and big, wide, open windows. It was a bookshop with tables made from trunks, oversized squishy chairs, teapots that poured their selves and floor to ceiling bookshelves. People sat in the chairs drinking tea, reading books and eating bowls of fresh frozen berries. The books were strange too, a mixture of muggle and magic from what Harry could see. A wizard in heeled daisy yellow boots was holding a pile of brightly coloured novels that Harry was sure he'd seen in a muggle bookshop on one of his London Underground rambles. Blinking bemusedly at the sight, he hurried to catch up with Charlie, who was a little ahead of him and continuing past a liquor shop, the many bottles beckoning with dark and tempting pleasures. In it's window's, tall decanters filled with jewel-like liquids glinted in the sun.

Growing, probably by magic, was a flower shop with beautiful red roses with gold edged petals that curled around the doorway and windows – almost an impossibility. Through as Harry had learnt, there was almost no 'impossible' when magic was involved. The roses continued to grow over the next shop as well and their heady scent filled the air with rich perfume. The lane then spilled out into a large, open square with a bubbling fountain in the centre and spindly chairs and tables from the alfresco cafe areas.

Spell's Tattoo was nestled between the flower shop and a stationary shop that promised two for one on leather-bound journals, as well as a roll of parchment free with any quill.
Further down the other way of the alley were more shops and Harry longed to explore them.

"Welcome to Spindle-Shaft lane." Said Charlie with a smile, stopping out side Spell's Tattoo

"What is this place?" Harry looked around in amazement; Diagon Alley was far more blatantly magical than Spindle-Shaft, but the lane still had that same tingle in the air, a held breath expectation of something amazing.

"It's like Diagon Alley, but... not." Harry continued. "We didn't even have to go through a wall or anything. Isn't that dangerous? How's this place protected, by spells?"

Charlie shook his head, "It's not protected by spells, or at least, I don't think so. Spindle-Shaft Lane has a magic all of its own, a protective magic. It's probably one of the safest places in all of magical Britain, but not many people know about it. You can't find the place unless you know where it is."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, at first you won't find it, the Lane will find you. You walk, and you don't really know what you're looking for but Spindle-Shaft will find you and bring you to it. You seem to stumble upon it, and then you fall in love with the place, afterwards if you want to go back, you may. I came upon this place about a month or two after leaving Hogwarts, and I've been returning ever since. My friends Etienne and Evan fell so in love with the place, that they bought a shop, built a flat over it and have been living here ever since. I think Spindle-Shaft has a sentiency of sorts, the lane only finds people who need this place or if they'd love the lane for its self, or if there's something that they need, which the lane has. I'm glad the lane let you come here, it has for Bill, as well as Fred and George – they often come at night to party. I tried to bring Percy here, but the lane wouldn't let him in.

"It's beautiful here." Harry said, looking about with bright eyes.

"I'm glad you like it." Charlie grinned. "You should see this place at night, it just comes alive. There is this amazing atmosphere. Lanterns are hung all over the place; in the square, strung in lines over head, hovering in small groups, and the place just lights up. You can find all sorts here – it's real melting pot. The lane seems to gather the open minded and the people who, for some reason, find something in the lane that helps them. It's one of the reasons why I found it in the first place, and why Spindle-Shaft let you come here. This is where all the bohemian artists and like-minded wizards come. "

"Bohemian artists?" asked Harry. "Are they muggles?"

"Yeah, they're cool people; they try to live their lives by the views of the Parisian bohemian artist movement. Lovers of absinthe, very fun people, quite open minded, tend to smoke a lot of weed."

"But, they're muggles, what about the ministry, and the statute of secrecy? You know- the whole 'muggles can't know about magic'?" Harry said, mildly shocked.

"They don't. You know what I said about the lane having a sort of sentiency?"

"Yeah," Said Harry, as he stared at a man who's shirtless-ness was only overshadowed by the pair of antlers curling out his darkly waved hair.

"The lane has type of muggle oh, perception ward. I suppose you could call it a filter. They don't see anything that would break the statute of secrecy. Plus, being the people whom they are, they don't tend to question the odd things or odd people. They just accept it." Charlie shrugged. "It works out. Besides, the liquor shop sells a damn good absinthe, as I'm told. "

Harry nodded slowly, accepting it.

"Come on, I don't know how long your tattoo will take, and we're down half an hour already. " Charlie said as he strode to Spell's Tattoo, Harry following close behind, already entranced with the place.

The door chimed lightly when they came in, a slight tinkle – a fairylike peal of sound. The inside of the shop was clean and airy, modern in style, but comfortable. The walls were not covered in numbered and generic tattoo designs that could be picked out, but instead where covered in a sky blue and white wallpaper in a Flur-De-Lys pattern. Plain framed photographs both colour and black and white were spaced against the wall. These photographs were of people's tattoos: There was a woman's back that would be perfectly still if it weren't for the swallows shifting and diving over the skin. Poetry twined like an affectionate cat over a pair of arms in another, and behind the desk was a photograph of someone's shoulder on which Celtic knot work moved and changed in ever varying and complex patterns. Harry would have continued to look at the rest of them, but the previously empty desk now had someone behind it.

It was time.

The man behind the counter was slender with soft brown eyes and hair to match. His arms were sleeves of flowers and vines that bloomed, changing colour and shape.

"Hi." He said, "Can I help you?"

"Um, yeah, I'm here to get a tattoo."

The man frown lightly, scrutinising Harry, then shook his head sympathetically, 'Sorry, but we can't, not if you're underage. It's against the law, see."

It was at that point that Charlie decided to stand up from where he'd been retying the laces on his dragon-skin boots.

"Hello Evan. Nice to see you again."

The man – Evan- jumped and swore loudly, "Charlie Weasley! You sly dog!" He jumped over the counter and embraced Charlie, grinning madly, "You haven't been here in ages, not since Etts gave you that tree of life. How've you been?"

"Good," said Charlie, "Taming dragons. I'm sorry I haven't been around earlier, but whenever I get a spare day it's chewed up and I never get the chance. Plus, it's not as if you can just apperate to this place you know. "

Evan nodded, still grinning, "Yeah, I know. It can get annoying, but mostly, we live with it. Hang on just one sec, I'll get Etts" He turned around and poked his head through a doorway, "Etts! Etienne! Come out the front! There's someone here to see us!"

There was a slightly muted, but obviously shouted, "Coming!" as Evan turn to Charlie, practically bouncing with excitement.

A couple of seconds later, a taller, broader man with shaggy blue hair the colour of the sky and a small rainbow hoop in one ear. "Fucking shite! Charlie! Hello!" He too leapt over the counter to hug Charlie. Harry realising that this was obviously a reunion of friends, stood to the side awkwardly.

"Etienne! Good to see you again!"

"Good to see you too man! How've the dragons been treating you? Rough as ever?"

"You know it." Charlie smiled at him, looking him up and down. "You're looking good. Like the hair, that's new."

Etienne grinned, "Cheers. I was drunk when we got it done; I'm pleased it turned out better than it should have."

Charlie laughed at him, "It suits you, and matches the wallpaper. But I didn't strictly come here just to see two bundles of fun."

"Yeah?" said Etienne, cocking an eyebrow as he pulled Even to him, wrapping his arms around Evan's shoulder in a loving embrace.

"Harry here wants a tattoo."

Etienne frowned, "Charlie, we can't give tattoos to people who are underage. You know that."

Harry's heart sank, and it showed.

"Look," Said Evan, turning to Harry, "Why do you want one? "

Harry bit his lip slightly, then said. "I need to get it. To... remember. I don't want..." Harry trailed off. He greens eyes flicked slightly desperately from one figure to another when Evan said, almost distractedly,

"To forget."

"Yes."

Evan glanced down at his left hand, where the feather that wrapped around the base of his thumb was just visible, and hesitated before saying, "Okay. We'll do it."
He glanced up at his partner who sighed, then smiled and nodded in agreement. "Come with us, Charlie?"

The tall red head followed the pair and Harry through another door into a sitting area with a table and a stack of paper and pencils, where Evan started to explain the process.

"Etienne and I have known each other since Hogwarts, we were in the same house, see. We've always worked this way; I create the design, and Etts tattoo's it. But, what do you want? Keep in mind, the cost varies from design to design and what you want the tattoo to do."

As Harry began to explain, Evan frowned in concentration and began to sketch designs on a piece of paper.

"So what you'd like," Said Evan once Harry had finished, "Is for the tattoo to be about the size of your palm." As he talked, Evan flipped to a clean page and began to draw quickly, "But over your heart, annndd... you want it confined to your chest area, but still able to move about... and the design... a Badger was it?"

Harry nodded.

"So, as for what you want it to do, Charlie explained to you about the fact we can inscribe a personality into the tattoo, much like the enchanted paintings at Hogwarts, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Cool, so personality..." Evan trailed off as he look up at Harry inquiringly, who was gnawing his lip.

"Can you... give it the personality of a certain person?"

Etienne nodded, "Yeah, it's no problem. I spell the inks to hold certain traits so when the works done, the tattoo, in your case a badger, will have a certain personality. How it works is this, you pull up the idea, I suppose you can call it, of what you want the badger to be, and how it acts. I'll draw it out – much like a memory- then distil it into the inks. If you think of a certain person, and all your experiences with them, the tattoo will have their personality. It won't be exactly like an enchanted painting, as the tattoo will only have the personality, not the experiences – nor the voice to talk with any way." Etienne ran a hand through his sky blue hair and continued, "I've got to warn you through, these tattoos hurt more than others when I'm doing the inking, because you're essentially inscribing a memory on your skin. The inks hold thoughts and the Tattoo becomes an entity, as much a part of you as flesh or bone, but it's also separate from your mind. It 'becomes its own person' as someone once told me. "

Harry nodded in understanding "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Cool." Said Evan, "This one should take me about half an hour to design, then another hour for inking. If Etts' prepares your skin for the ground area in which you badger's allowed to roam and prepares the inks..." Evan gnawed his lip as he thought, "We could probably have you done in about two hours. All right by you?"

"Yeah." Harry hesitated a little, and then said, "The design. Can you make it look like a patronus? A badger patronus?"

"Sure thing." Evan said, pencil moving to a clean part of the page, a new design already spiralling over the paper.

"That's great. Thank you."

Evan shrugged, "It's okay by me. This person obviously means a lot to you."

"He... yeah. He does."

After Etienne had taken Harry into the inking room to tattoo the badger into his skin, Evan brought Charlie a mug of tea in the waiting lounge.

"That's Harry Potter, isn't it?"

"What?" Said Charlie, unbalanced.

"Harry Potter. That's him."

Charlie took a seat and a sip of tea. "How did you know?" He sighed.

Evan shrugged and joined his friend. "I've seen photos. You must have concealed the scar, but the glasses, the eyes, the hair, they're all quite telling."

Charlie swore slightly.

"Well, they're not really," Amended Evan, "unless you take a long hard look at him. Most people would go, 'Harry Potter?' and look for a scar. No, he merely looks like Harry Potter's twin brother. Look, just tell me something Charlie. Why is he here?"

"Because it's time that somebody did something for him."

There was a slight silence in the room, and then Evan said, flatly accusing, "You slept with him. Didn't you?"

Charlie flinched, as if stung and his hands tightened around the handle of his mug.

"Merlin Charlie." Evan swore. "You're one of my oldest friends, but seriously? The kid is underage. He's probably gone through a whole heap of morgana be damned shit and for you to take advantage of him like that? And then you think to 'do something for him' and give him a tattoo that he'll almost certainly regret when he finds out that he was just a quick fuck to you?" Evan tightened his jaw and said in a low tone. "No one should lose their virginity like that."

Charlie glared at him and snapped, "No. That's not how it was Evan, all right. Yes I slept with him, but I didn't take his virginity. Melin's saggy arse, do you think I'd do that?"

"Yes." Came Evan's flat reply. "You've done so before."

"Look. I was seventeen for crying out loud. I've apologised so many damn times. How long are you going to hold that over my head and keeping bringing it up? I was seventeen and stupid. What can I say that I haven't already said, what can I do that I haven't already done?"

"Just tell me the truth Charlie. You fucked the kid. He was probably unsure as hell, but you pushed him into it and then you're going to turn around and tell him that all he was to you was a one-night stand. Don't lie to me Charlie. Tell me the truth!"

"Fine." Scowled Charlie. "I'll tell you the truth. I didn't push him into anything, and I've seen more unsureity on the faces of propositioning whores than on Harry's face last night. I was in the kitchen, it was twelve at night and I was quarter way through a bottle of Liquid Season. Harry came down for a glass of water. I was feeling talkative so I offered him a glass and started telling him stories about things I've done, or seen. Yes, we got drunk. He said that he had to thank You Know Who for giving him a scar because 'bitches love scars'. I pulled my shirt off to show him mine, and ended up showing my tattoos. He told me that the most riotous thing was that women could throw themselves at him, but he wouldn't give a damn because he played for a totally different Quidditch side. I'd told him that I took both players and asked what he thought of what I had. He'd laughed, placed a freaking finger on my collarbone, lent forward and told me that I would look really, really good with a stag there. And then I kissed him. " Charlie growled and took a large gulp of the tea.

"We started getting it on – real hot and heavy, that was when I told him that we should stop, that this was a bad idea. He told me that he didn't want to stop. He asked me 'Do you?', and then he bit down on my collarbone, right here." Charlie pulled his shirt down a little to reveal the slowly fading mark.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his short red hair.

"You know me Evan, there's only so much of myself that can be pushed like that before I snap; I took him upstairs, to my room. I'd got him on the bed when some sanity returned to me. I told him that we had to stop – and yes! I fucking wanted him! But he was underage, we were drunk, I told him as much; said that this was dangerous and that we should stop. You know what he told me, Evan?" Charlie looked at the glaring Evan straight on. "He looked me in the eyes and said. 'I'm hardly a child any more, not after everything. I want this. I'll take this for myself, not for you, not for anyone. I want this for me.' And then he kissed me so slowly, sweetly. He was so sure of himself and his eyes were clear, alright? They were deep with lust, but not clouded by fear, or drink, or drug." Charlie snorted and took another heavy slug of tea.

"I told him that I wouldn't be easy on him. He accepted. Okay? I didn't kick him out afterwards, alright? I'm not that bad. He'd left before I'd woken up. I went to apologise this morning, after breakfast. He told me that it was what he'd wanted; it'd been what he'd needed. He told me not to apologise, because I'd given him a gift. Okay Evan?" Charlie scowled down at his tea, hands tight around the mug.

After a moment Evan said in slower tone, "But the tattoo that he's getting, he said he was getting it to remember, and that the person means a lot to him. What can that mean but other than the fact that he wants to remember the night you and him had sex and that he lost his virginity?"

Charlie snorted and looked about the room, "He's not getting it for that reason. He's getting it to remember someone who should have lived longer than they did."

"Okay, if that's the case, how do you know that you didn't take his virginity?"

Charlie sighed. "When I went to apologise, I asked him if he'd been a virgin – because of something he'd said. He told me no. I don't think he was going to say anything else, but it was like a lake of water damned behind flood gates. Once he'd let something free, the rest had to follow." Charlie hesitated, and then said, "He told me about who he lost it to – a seventh year, and Harry had been a fourth year. He said that at first he thought the seventh year had only wanted a quick fuck, but the guy sought him out a day after - to apologise. They ended up in a relationship that they kept secret –they were lovers." Charlie's fingers tightened as jealously reared its head again. "The seventh year had been in Hufflepuff. He died that year. "

Evan, who had been busy working out who Charlie was talking about, froze when Charlie said the last two sentences. Like most of the British wizarding world, he had followed the events of the Triwizard Tournament; albeit from a slightly better source that The Prophet. "Harry's lover was Cedric Diggory?" he asked slowly.

Charlie nodded. "Yes, but don't tell anyone. And don't tell him I told you. I don't – didn't- want to break his trust. But I had to tell you, to make you understand. If you don't believe me, you can try asking him if I took advantage. Feel free. " Charlie gave a small snort and downed the rest of his tea. He paused a moment then said, "He told me this morning that he was afraid of forgetting Cedric, of what they'd had, and of everything Cedric had done for him. It's was then I thought of getting him a tattoo. Not to say 'Charlie Weasley was here', but to help him. To give him a piece of someone he'd loved."

Evan gave a slow nod, deciding to believe Charlie's story - but still ask Harry all the same, and said quietly, "I'm sorry I misjudged you Charlie."

"It's okay," Charlie shrugged, "at least you see why I wanted to bring him here now. I had to do something for him; even if what I'd done to him last night was a 'gift'. "

Evan traced the rim of his cup with an easy finger and looking at Charlie from the corner of his eye said, "He sounds like something special."

Charlie nodded; a sweet smile like melted chocolate on his face. Evan could barely catch Charlie's murmured, "Yeah, he is."

Evan had to take a hasty gulp of tea to disguise the expression on his face.
Oh Charlie, He thought, what have you gone and done now?

A pleased Etienne and a bare chested Harry were smiling when they walked out of the inking room.

"How'd it go?" asked Charlie, placing his cup down on the table.

Etienne grinned broadly, coming to embrace his partner, "Went well, Harry hardly bled at all. Didn't cry out or anything, and those tattoos hurt." He smiled at the teen, a wry grin, "I don't think you felt it at all, did you spell yourself not to feel pain?"

Harry shook his head in disagreement, "I was doing it for a reason, it wouldn't be right if I didn't feel the pain."

"A man after my own heart." Etienne said, clapping Harry on the shoulder, "Listen, Evan will get you a cup of tea, and then I'll say the spells that will 'wake' your badger – he's still frozen at the moment and tell you about how to care for it."

Evan smiled as Harry traced the tattoo lightly with a reverent finger, he knew the feeling of gazing down and seeing a piece of art fresh on your skin. "Come into the kitchen with me Harry, how do you like your tea? Milk? Sugar? The kitchen is just up here. "

"Just black thanks." Harry said as he followed Evan up a flight of narrow stairs into a warm sunny kitchen.

"Like a biscuit?" Evan asked.

"Err, no thanks, I'm okay."

"Lovely. I don't think we have any anyway." Said Evan as he got mugs out and flicked his wand to start the kettle up. Harry looked about the kitchen, interested. It was homely; rustic red tile flooring, whitewash walls, mugs hanging on cup holders, a small wooden table placed under the windows so the sun warmed the white pine wood. It was a pleasant place, there were some photos of Evan, Etienne and their friends on the wall and Harry thought he could spot Charlie in a few of them.

As the kettle boiled, Evan studied the teen he'd always heard of, and read about, but never seen in the flesh before. There was an unwritten story behind him, it lay close to the surface, but locked under mistrust, betrayal and recent loss. Evan had been a bartender for a while; he knew these things. He also knew that for Charlie to have gotten the story, or even just a part of it, out of this dark haired teen would be saying something. Harry trusted Charlie, trusted him enough to tell him about the person Harry was getting the badger for, and trusted Charlie not to pass the tale on. Through Charlie had already sort of broken this trust by telling his friend to get Evan to understand why Charlie was doing what he was doing, Evan was loathe to undermine Harry's trust in Charlie. Evan could imagine that people like Harry had few that they could talk to and share things with. Still, Evan had to do it, if only for his own peace of mind.

"Hey, Harry, listen." He said, looking Harry in the eyes when the teen turned around. "I know it's probably none of my business as to the reason behind this tattoo, but the fact that it's Charlie who brought you here makes me, well, a little worried for you."

Harry frowned at Evan inquiringly.

"It's just that, while Charlie is my friend, I do know what he's like. I know that he, probably, has slept with you. I also know that while he's a good person, he does have a tendency for one-night stands that leave his partner, or in some cases partners, thinking that there's going to be something more. For example, say, a committed relationship. Even through it's really none of my business as to what you do... I wouldn't want you to get a tattoo for Charlie that you'll invariably regret when you realise that it was just a one time thing. And even through Charlie's my friend, I wouldn't want for you to have been pushed into anything that you weren't sure of, or didn't want to do." Evan shrugged his shoulders in a 'what can you do?' kind of way.

Harry looked at him in a considering manner, and then shook his head. "This tattoo..." His hand brushed the badger over his heart, "It's not for Charlie. I'm getting it for someone else who... meant a great deal to me, someone who I never really got to say good-bye to, and someone who I don't want to forget. As for the other thing, I wasn't pushed into it by him. I know, knew, that it was only just a one night thing, so you've no worries there. Charlie gave me a gift really; I'd needed what he gave me. It's fine."

Evan looked steadily at him for a long moment, and then nodded slowly, "I believe you, even though I still think that Charlie shouldn't have done what he did. "

Harry looked down at the table and stayed quiet, saying nothing. He'd explained himself already.

Evan shook his head slightly, then said, "I'll tell you this for free through, when it comes to Charlie and his choices, you're the most self-assured person I've ever met." The kettle whistled nosily and Evan got up from the table, "You're quite the something. I know why Charlie brought you to the lane now, and I think I can tell why the lane let you in." Evan turned to smile at Harry and passed him a mug of tea. "Here we'll take this downstairs, and Etienne can wake your badger and tell you about the proper aftercare."

As Harry and Charlie said their goodbyes to Evan and Etienne, Evan gave Harry a hug and said, "Safety and peace Harry; we'd like to see you alive and well sometime in the future, and if you ever need anything, anything at all, just owl us, and we'll do what we can, okay? "

Harry nodded, "Thanks Evan, for everything."

Evan smiled and stood back to stand with Etienne, "It's been my pleasure Harry."

Harry gave the pair one last wave as he and Charlie strode down the lane. Harry, now wearing a shirt, could not stop brushing his fingers over the area where his tattoo lay. It was strange to think that out of all of the scars and marks over his skin, this was the only one he had ever willingly gotten.

"It's warmer than the rest of my skin." Harry said to Charlie, "As if something alive is resting there."

Charlie nodded taking a right turn out of Spindle Shaft Lane, "You find that the ones with their own personality – one made out of the memories of a certain person- usually are. I've always thought that it's because the Tattoo becomes an ink and memory form of that person. It's like having a part of them on your skin. You're not going to be able to forget him now."

Harry looked down at his chest, at the area where his badger, where his little piece of Cedric lay. "No." He said, "I won't."

"Good." Charlie stopped just inside the backstreet entrance to the main street on which they'd arrived and offered his arm. "Come on. We can apperate to Diagon Alley from here to pick your glasses and contacts up. Let's go, it's going to be hard to explain your lengthy 'eye healer' excursion to everyone at Grimmuld place. I may just have to say that we went to the muggle movie theatre."

Harry snorted with laughter even as he prepared himself for the sickening feeling of side along apparition.

Spindle Shaft Lane is 100% my own invention and I'm more than a little fond of it. For that I only apologise for the really violently purple descriptions of it. I blame the fact that one my favourite books was The Little White Horse. That thing is DRIPPING purple. I love it so much. Anyway. expect the next chapter soon.