Beauty From Pain

Chapter Ten

"I'm sorry," Hermine said again. She had apologized at least ten times since the start of the appointment. "I know it hurts. I'll try to be quick, just let me know if you need a break."

"I've been through worse," Draco growled through clenched teeth. He hadn't meant to sound so hostile, but the pain in his arm was excruciating.

She bit her lower lip to keep from smiling at his bravado and focused intently on tracing the delicate wings of the snitch.

Draco glanced between the lip caught between her teeth and the ink spreading over his skin. He tried to distract himself from the discomfort in his forearm by thinking up sly remarks about the things Granger did when she focused, but they of course remained unsaid. The threats she had given him when he first entered the shop were fresh in his mind, so he decided not to comment on the way the tip of her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth or the bits of songs she quietly hummed under her breath while she changed colors were a welcome distraction. She was completely absorbed in her work, and it was fascinating.

"How did you get into this?" The question was out of his mouth before he really thought about asking it, but Draco was dying to know what happened to her after the War. Although the newspapers liked to speculate, no one really knew where Granger had disappeared off to for the past three years. Draco didn't like not knowing things.

"You disappeared after the War, and no one knew where you went. Well, Potter and Weasley obviously knew." He rolled his eyes at the thought of her two friends and said, "They were very tight lipped about it, and then you suddenly reappeared, no explanation and a new form of magical expression in tow. If you don't mind my asking, what happened in the interim?"

Hermione smiled softly at his questions. Setting her tattoo machine down, she grabbed a spare rag to wipe her ink stained fingers off. She leaned back slightly on her stool and assessed him carefully. "Tattoos are something I stumbled upon in the muggle world." She paused to give him the opportunity to make a snide remark, but he remained quiet. "I found a tattoo shop while I was taking a break from the Wizarding World."

Draco caught a flash of pain that darted across her face, and filed it away from future analysis.

"I was very fragile after the War," she admitted honestly. "I needed to take time to rebuild my life and put myself back together. Part of that healing was getting old scars covered and allowing myself to feel beautiful and whole again. I knew there were so many people who needed the same thing, so I returned and opened Virago, a place for new beginnings."

Draco mulled over her words quietly before a specific phrase caught his attention. He swallowed thickly, memories of stone floors and falling chandeliers clouding his mind, and his gaze floated down towards her left forearm where he knew the word 'mudblood' still lingered under the sleeve of her sweater.

"You have a tattoo," he said. It was meant as a question, but came out as more of a realized statement.

She nodded, a slight flush of pride warming her cheeks. "As a matter of fact, I have many."

Draco shifted in his seat, a sudden wave of heat washing over him and it made his mouth run dry. "Can I..." He cleared his throat and tried to ask casually, "Can I see them?"

Hermione's lips curled up into a sly grin, and she restarted her work on his tattoo. "How about I let you see one of my tattoos every time you let me give you a new tattoo?"

"Deal," he said a little too eagerly.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Hermione worked on his arm, only interrupted by Hermione's quiet humming and Draco's intermittent sounds of discomfort as he adjusted to the pain of his Mark being altered. When she finally finished, she took out her wand to begin casting the more complicated spells for movement and shine.