AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
Severus rapped his fingers on the table, a scowl etched upon his face. More than a few times he'd considered sending Hermione an owl asking her to reply once her interview had concluded. His muscles tightened as he imagined the kinds of invasive questions Minerva was asking, and the condescending smile on her face as she did so. His temperature rose at the thought of Minerva deciding Hermione wasn't worthy of consideration the second she wheeled into the room. If it hadn't rained that morning she would have attempted to use the cane or walker. Was Hermione correct that using a wheelchair would doom her?
Did she need him now more than ever?
He pursed his lips. No, Hermione could manage this interview just fine without him. Minerva would have no choice but to acknowledge that Hermione was the best candidate for the job, even if it would pain her to do so. Hermione would prove herself a worthy of the position without any help from anyone else. Still he intended to visit her when this dunderheaded date and him were through their awkward dinner. At the very least, he wanted to go to sleep knowing Hermione was confident that she'd done everything she needed to do.
"Are you Severus Snape?"
Severus glanced at the woman, who wore an orange rose on her wrist. This did not capture his attention though. Instead, he counted thirteen, or was it fourteen, piercings on her face. Everything from her ears, nose, eyebrows, and lips had some kind of metal stud. It was amazing something around her did not catch fire given how brightly they were shining.
"If you aren't," she continued in a gravely voice, "do you know where he is?"
"I am Severus," he replied, his eyes still glued to her two nose piercings. If he were a less polite man he'd ask her if it hurt. After a few drinks, he may just do that, if only to make it clear she did not interest him in the slightest.
"Oh good," she sat across from him. "I was hoping you hadn't backed out on me."
"No, if I promise to be somewhere, I will be there."
"You're better than most of the other people I've dated," she sat across from him. "I've been ghosted more times than I care to admit."
"If I am better than those you dated, then you have had some abysmal dates."
"You have no idea." She folded her hands and looked at him.
"What is your name?" He asked.
"Stefania Yuming," she answered before extended her hand.
"A pleasure to meet you," when he took her hand, he noticed the dragon tattoo twisting around her arm. At its tail was an ace and a jack of spades. A few words were written across her arm, though he could not make them out due to her sleeve obscuring the letters.
"Are you admiring my tattoos?" She grinned as she shook his hand.
"I apologize if I was staring," he returned his attention to her. "I was admiring the artistry."
"Don't apologize at all." She released his hand. "I'd rather you stare than make some rude comment."
"If you don't mind me asking, who made the dragon?"
"Marie, my coworker."
"Your coworker?"
"Yeah, I work as a tattoo artist," she began.
"That sounds," he twisted his lips. "Intriguing."
"Really?" She cocked her head. "You aren't afraid I'll pollute you with muggle culture, or I'm a scary person who will corrupt the youth into destroying their bodies?"
"I have no right to judge anyone for what they do to their body. Whatever you want to do with it is no concern of mine."
"Wow, you're unique. You'd be surprised how many wizards are afraid of tattoos and piercings."
"Does your salon do both?"
"Indeed we do," she replied. "Employees get a discount on piercings, so every year on my birthday I get another one."
"That sounds," he flinched, "painful."
"It doesn't hurt after the first hour. After the third piercing it becomes second nature. Just take a pain relieving potion, wait a few hours, and you'll make it through just fine."
"That still seems quite intense."
"It only seems that way, then again," she leaned back in her chair. "You know the pain of something going onto your body. I heard receiving the dark mark was one of the worst pains one could endure."
Severus winced at the memory of Voldemort's curse searing into his skin, the agony of watching his arm become distorted with the appearance of the snake emerging from the skull, and that quick moment of panic, wondering where his life had gone so wrong.
"But don't worry, tattoos don't hurt as badly as dark marks do. In fact," her eyes lit up. "I work to help cover up the scars left by the dark mark."
"You do?" Severus raised an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah, I can make any birth mark look beautiful, as well as any scars from magic. I've done some impressive work if you're interested in discussing it."
"A discussion is fine, but becoming a client would be inadvisable."
"Why?"
"Tattoos seem," he swallowed, "painful."
"It isn't painful to get one at all. Tattoos don't hurt as much as people think they do."
"I would just as soon keep my arm free of any more markings."
"Suit yourself, but I do great work. My greatest accomplishment is Draco Malfoy's arm. Do you know him?"
"Yes," Severus drawled. "He's my godson."
"He was a great client. His wife was interesting too. Once she saw his tattoo she got a green heart on her ankle."
"You gave Draco and Ginevra tattoos?"
She nodded.
"What did Draco's look like?" Severus asked.
"I made his dark mark look like a stallion leaping over a fence. His wife really liked it. She said now he can wear short sleeves to family gatherings and not have her parents whine about the dark mark."
"I had no idea that's what they did," Severus' mind flashed to the last time he'd seen pictures of Draco at the beach. It had surprised him that he was willing to go without a shirt, but when Draco pointed out the stallion it made more sense. Still, Severus had always believed Draco found a way to cast a spell which made the dark mark appear different than it was, not that he'd permanently mark his arm to erase the reminder of his biggest mistake.
"Just don't tell his father about my work," Stefania continued. "He hated the idea of Draco mangling his body with muggle technology. That's why Draco lied about it being a spell."
"Lucius can be a bit peculiar about these kinds of things."
"He can be a downright arse about muggle technology, at least according Draco."
"That he can be," Severus admitted.
"Sorry it took me a while back there, but," Rosmerta stopped before her eyes grew. "Stefania?"
"Rosmerta?"
The ladies squealed before embracing each other and leaping in the air.
"How have you been?" Rosmerta asked as she pulled away.
"Oh great, I'm just great," Stefania answered.
"Everything at the tattoo shop going well?"
"Business is booming. If you and the wife want another one…"
"Wait, you have tattoos?" Severus asked.
Rosmerta pulled up her sleeve. On the top of her arm was a black heart with a gold arrow going through it. Within the heart were the names, 'Rosemerta' and 'Lydia.'
"I would never have guessed," Severus mumbled.
"Lydia has a matching one," Rosmerta replied. "We got it on our first anniversary."
"Yeah, you two are a real cute couple." Stefania put her hand on Rosmerta's shoulder. "Real trooper too. Rosmerta was scared shitless when she came in."
"I wasn't scared," she argued. "I was just nervous about the needles."
"It didn't hurt though, did it?"
"Not really."
"Good, because I'm trying to convince Severus here to get a tattoo on his arm. Personally," Stefania scratched her chin and squinted her eyes. "He looks like he could have a phoenix on there, or maybe a rat."
He suppressed a groan as memories of Dumbledore and Pettigrew flashed in his mind.
"No, I take that back," Stefania's lips curled up. "He needs a mongoose, a symbol of someone who has overcome a serpent and continues to thrive."
Severus hummed. The idea was appealing in its own way, though he doubted he'd have the courage to go to her tattoo parlor without a few firewhiskeys in his system.
"Take her up on the offer," Rosmerta patted her back. "She's real good at her job."
"I'll keep her in mind if I ever want to draw on myself," Severus muttered.
"Okay," Rosmerta turned to Stefania. "You want a brandy old fashioned, correct?"
"You know me well."
Rosmerta turned to Severus "And you want a firewhisky,"
"Indeed I do."
"Okay, I'll get your drinks ready and come get your food order," Rosmerta answered. "Also, I think it's brilliant you're spreading the news of your tattoo parlor around by meeting with potential clients. It's a great business strategy."
"Yeah," a drop of sweat formed. "I sure am lucky to meet with clients now."
"Okay, be back in a second," Rosmerta scurried away.
Severus frowned and turned to her. "Potential clients?"
"Look," Stefania sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry. Right now, I'm not being honest with you."
"About what? Does your tattoo parlor truly not give employee discounts on piercings?"
"No, that's not it," Stefania slumped over the table. "I…I may have met Rosmerta at a women's event."
"That seems appropriate given that you are both women," Severus answered.
"No, I mean," she fidgeted. "We were at an event for women who love women."
"Oh," Severus muttered.
"I uh," she shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't drag you into this."
"Drag me into what?"
"I'm only on this date because my dad is dying. He says unless I marry a man I won't inherit a knut from him. The money wouldn't matter to me, except I want to open my own tattoo parlor. I need the funds to do that, and equipment isn't cheap. I would really like that money."
"But you need to present him with a husband to get it."
"Yeah."
"Perhaps we could mutually benefit from our arrangement," he began. "You need to pretend to date someone, and I would love to get out of these blind dates. You are a fascinating woman, so it would not harm me to date you for any length of time."
"I can't do that in good conscience though," she sat up straighter. "If I date you, I'm preventing you from finding someone who cares for you. I'll be an albatross around your neck. At some point, you may want intimacy, which I can't give you. You need to be with a woman who can love you, not with someone like me."
"I am not looking for anyone at the moment. If it got me out of more blind dates, I could pretend to date you."
"I won't do that, because if I do, then I'm saying there's something shameful about who I am, that I'm not proud of myself, that I'm somehow dirty. I like who I am though, too much to deny my integrity in the name of some money."
Severus swallowed.
"Look, you seem to be a nice guy. A little uptight and snarly for his own good, but a nice guy nonetheless. I can't get you involved in a relationship which will never go anywhere. I thought I could, but after meeting you and seeing how accepting you are of Rosmerta, well, no, I can't do it."
"How do you think you'll confront your father then?"
"I think I'll live my life, save my money, and remember that when my boss isn't craving another cigar, she isn't so terrible."
"How many women are at your tattoo parlor?"
"We're an all-women tattoo parlor," she answered. "There are four of us who are artists, a fifth who's a secretary, and the sixth is my boss who does all the financials."
"That sounds intriguing."
"There's never a dull moment anyway," a smile crept across her face. "If you'd like, I can examine your dark mark and give you some ideas for designs that would cover it up."
"I am not interested in a stallion."
"Trust me, I wouldn't ask you to commit to anything without seeing your arm. More than likely there a differences between your arm and Draco's which would make it inadvisable to use the exact same design anyway."
"Have you learned about these differences from experience?"
Her smile widened. "Let's just say the dirty little secret amongst ex-Death Eaters is they come to us to cover up their scars. After seeing a dozen of them we learned that Voldemort left a subtle mark distinguishing one Death Eater from another. These marks have to be worked around, though they can also tell us which design would work best."
"Intriguing." Severus began to roll up his sleeve.
"Let's see," Stefania hummed as she held up his arm. She traced the Dark Mark scar, then the area around it. "Oh yeah, I was right. A mongoose pattern would suit this best."
"A mongoose?"
"Yeah," she grinned. "The mongoose could have one foot on the skull, and in its mouth is the head of the snake. He stands on top of the serpent to show everything he's overcome."
"I may consider that," Severus answered.
"If you want, I can make you some sketches and send them to you."
"I would be delighted," he replied, relieved that at least one of his dates wasn't a dunderhead, even if he would never be her type.