AN: Hey guys! This is a new story I've been working on that's got the potentiometer to be pretty long (if my attention span lasts long enough). Updates will be fairly slow since I'm working two jobs and in school, but I'll do my best. Thanks for checking it out!

Disclaimer: Anything to do with the Harry Potter world is not mine and belongs to the lovely mind of JK Fowling

It started out simply enough, though the most complicated things in life usually do. After the Wizarding World had righted itself enough after the Final Battle - no creativity in this lot - she left for the muggle world. Perhaps taking a break from all things magic would be good for her, at least for a little while. It was purely by chance that she stumbled upon a tattoo parlor. Even more so that they offered to cover her scarred arm. She wasn't hiding it, no, but was instead creating something beautiful out of what she considered to be ugly. That the tattoo ended up becoming a mosaic of flora on her forearm was entirely the artist's fault. Watching the flowers come to life on her skin was hypnotizing, and the know-it-all inside her itched to learn such an amazing craft. She apprenticed for a while, building a portfolio that impressed all of her clients, but her never-resting brain kept thinking of the endless possibilities until she was led back into the Wizarding World, wand and ink merging to create both still and moving art. When Draco Malfoy came into her shop and asked her with the most gut-wrenching look if she could cover up dark marks, how could she say now? Everyone deserved a chance to craft beauty from pain.

-..-

It was entirely Theodore Nott's fault. Sure, Hermione had a big heart. And, yes, she could be a sucker for sob stories every now and again. And she's never been known to turn away a client, but all that aside, it was entirely his fault.

He was the first of her old schoolmates to find her small shop tucked into a corner of Diagonal Alley. He'd tentatively stepped into Virago and had nearly run when he saw her behind the counter. Hermione had managed to calm him down and reassure him enough to eventually arrange an appointment for Theo to get a tattoo.

His was the first magic tattoo shed created that spanned an entire arm. His sleeve was beautiful, and Hermione was incredibly proud of it. She'd taken Theo's love of books and her floral style to create a collaboration of Wordsworth, Shakespeare, and Mansfield danced with aloe, borage, and cyprus to create a vision of hope and mourning that hid the dark mark he was so ashamed of.

Word of her ability to cover his shame and create such beauty spread until soon she'd given many reformed death eaters arms to be proud of rather than faded shames to hide. Theo's, being her original, still remained her favorite, and Hermione enjoyed their friendship that grew and he returned to bring friends and add to his sleeve.

It was only because of that friendship that she didn't kick him out of her shop when he came in with Draco Malfoy.

-..-

She struck a fearsome figure with hands on her hips and a spark of anger in her chestnut eyes. It was the first time in a long time Theodore was nervous to enter her shop. Hermione tapped her foot in impatience causing Theo to awkwardly clear his throat.

"I know I probably should have owled first, but I knew you'd probably give me that look in the shape of a well written owl." Hermione arched one eyebrow at him. "But, you told me once that this was a place where anyone from any place could come for help and healing. I'd like to think you really meant anyone."

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Sure she'd said that and meant it, but she didn't think she'd one day have to include Draco Malfoy in that "anyone". She knew everyone was redeemable, but a small, petty part of her wanted to punch Malfoy in the face and send him out the door.

And yet.

And yet she couldn't. She couldn't because of the fractured look she saw in his eyes. A sorrow that seemed to echo her past. Tragedy written across such young features that broke her heart. But it was the shadow of hope that made up her mind. She only saw it for a moment, but decided she wouldn't be the one to take even the smallest amount of hope from someone.

She stayed silent long enough for Draco to shuffle towards Theo and tell him they should go before she spoke. "I'm not giving you the Hogwarts discount."

She looked up in time to see a shocked expression crossed Draco's face. She frowned at him and said, "If we're doing this you'll pay in full upfront, and there'll be no insulting it funny business. If you insult me or mine I reserve the right to tattoo the ugliest design on your ass. Understand?" She poked him in the chest for emphasis.

Draco lightly rubbed his chest where she poked him. "Of course, Granger," he mumbled. "I wouldn't... I'd like to think we're passed all that."

Hermione pursed her lips and grunted in skepticism. "Well we'll see won't we?" She turned on her heel and made her way toward the back of her shop.

Theo shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked at Draco as he followed her. "Told you she'd do it."

Draco rolled his eyes at Theo and snarked, "Yes well if I end up with a purple hypogriff or other such nonsense on my person, I'll give Pansy's new spell a try."

Theo blanched and held his hands over the front of his pants. "She didn't actually manage to create that spell, did she?"

Draco smirked as he walked past Theo into the back of the store, "Hopefully you won't find out."

-..-

At some point during their walk to the back, Theo had wandered off mumbling something about a new sleeve and probably starting to do things himself. Ignoring his friend, grey eyes took in every inch of their surroundings, examining art and tattoo examples hung on the walls. The room Hermione led him to was in the very back of her shop. Draco was startled to see a small office space behind the door. Arching a platinum brow, Draco took in the lack of tattoo equipment and overabundance of books. Ignoring his obvious question, Hermione closed the door behind them and moved to the two, small couches facing each other. Seeing Draco lost in his thoughts, Hermione moved quietly around the room gathering art supplies and lighting a scented candle giving the room a more comfortable atmosphere.

The process of Draco finally agreeing to getting his Mark covered had been laborious at best. He'd spent one hour trying to understand what exactly a tattoo was, three hours being convinced to let Hermione Granger of all people do something so permanent to his body, and three weeks trying to come up with the perfect design. He'd come up empty handed. So, when Hermione asked him what tattoo he wanted, a faint flush of embarrassment washed over his pale skin.

"I, um, didn't really know what to expect or what you were capable of doing, so I don't exactly have a design in mind."

A small smile worked its way onto her face while Hermione busied herself with setting up her drawing tools. "That's alright. Tattoos are a new concept for most wizards, so I usually spend most of the first appointment coming up with a design and tweaking it."

She flipped her sketchbook to a blank page and looked at him. Her gaze pinned Draco to his seat and gave him the urge to fidget. Her eyes were so piercing he felt as though his emotions, his thoughts were all open for her to see.

"Getting a tattoo is a very personal decision. I'm going to ask you some questions to get to know you and what you want your design to be. The more vulnerable you are, the more the design will reflect you. Ready?"

Draco slowly nodded his head in affirmation, but his mind was screaming for him to walk out the door and not look back. Was covering his Dark Mark so important to him that he'd willingly become grossly vulnerable with a woman he'd gladly called his nemesis for nearly six years? Was he really willing to give her enough information to ruin him in the hope that she would help him instead even after everything he did to her? He knew he would have to let her into his darkest places because with Granger it had always been all or nothing. He looked down at his covered forearm and clenched his jaw. Yes, he could. He needed this.

During Draco's debate with himself, Hermione watched him and began sketching. She'd had several conversations with Theo while she'd worked on his sleeve that hinted to childhood difficulties for both of the young men, but Theo had been rather tight lipped when she'd asked questions. She was curious but knew she would need to ease Draco into the conversation so as not to spook him. She'd start simply.

Without looking up from her sketch she asked, "What're your three favorite colors?"

Draco looked skeptical at her question. Was she joking? Hermione paused her drawing and arched an eyebrow at him over her book. Apparently not. Draco thought for a second before answering, "Grey, blue, and dark green." He waited for the inevitable comment about being a stereotypical Slytherin, but it never came.

Going back to her sketching Hermione followed with, "And you're favorite animal?"

"A dragon." Draco cringed internally at the cliche he was.

"Favorite childhood memory?"

Draco's brain stuttered to a halt, and his facial expression froze in a blank mask. Favorite childhood memory? Did he have one?

Hermione misinterpreted the panic in his eyes and attempted to make it easier, "If you have too many you can just narrow it down to two or three."

Two or three? Draco's mind spun in chaotic circles of childhood flashbacks, none of them pleasant. He couldn't even come up with one let alone three!

When he didn't answer, Hermione tried to help again. "For example," she set her sketchbook aside and faced him, "one of my favorites is dancing in the kitchen with my Mum while she cooked." She smiles softly at the memory, Draco missed the flash of pain behind her hazel eyes.

That's all? Just dancing in the kitchen. Surely, Draco thought, I have a memory that simple. Thinking back, a small smile worked its way into the corners of his mouth. "My mother and I," he started slowly, "used to sit out on her balcony at night so she could show me all the stars our family is named after."

Hermione a smile widened and she picked up her sketchbook. "That's perfect, Draco!" She began sketching again and asked for another story.

A small voice in the back of his mind enjoyed the way she said his name, but he moved on to more memories. "She used to have me help her in her garden. It was her favorite place because plants were easy and forgiving. They never held grudges." His eyes glazed a little as he thought of his mother. "The only time I ever saw her angry was the time Blaise and I stole our practice brooms from the house and went to play quidditch in the middle of the night. I fell and nearly broke my arm, and out came Mother in her billowing fury. I nearly pissed myself out of fear but was so proud that I'd caught the snitch." He laughed at the memory, forgetting who he was talking to and enjoying the few bubbles of light in his childhood.

Hermione stopped her sketching and looked at the man in front of her. Actual joy written across his features, a smile instead of a smirk, and real light in his eyes for the first time since he entered her shop. Setting her sketchbook down, she smiled at him and said, "Well, Draco, if you're ready I think I've got enough information to start the tattoo." She passed him her sketchbook, "Here's the preliminary idea; obviously you can change it and add to it since it's your tattoo. This is just a general idea to start with." She was cut off when a wall of muscles knocked the breath out of her. It took a few seconds to process before she realized Draco Malfoy was hugging her. In shock, she slowly rubbed circles on his back until he pulled away.

Honest tears were gathered in the corners of his eyes as he gazed at her in gratitude. "Hermione," he further shocked her with using her given name, "I can't thank you enough. It's... It's perfect."