Drarry Oneshots

Tattoos

Posted: December 12, 2020 (Happy Wattpad Anniversary to Me!) 
AO3 Rating: Mature


I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have come in. But the gossip out on the street had made it irresistible.

Harry Potter is in there. Yes, inside the club. Harry Potter is back from Merlin knows where, and he's in there. Anyone could just go in and talk to him.

I don't have to talk to him, I tell myself as I consciously make this monumentally terrible decision. In fact, it's better if I don't. He doesn't need to see me, I can just observe. See if it it's true, see how he looks, see if he's alone, torture myself endlessly if he isn't...

I spot him after only a few seconds, out on the dance floor with Ginny Weasley. The way they're dancing is completely friendly and platonic and a little bit silly, if I'm being perfectly honest. She laughs as he spins her away from him, holding his arm high in the air to twirl her around and around until, looking more than a bit dizzy, she collapses against his side in a fit of giggles. He's laughing too, looking happy and free, and a part of me shrivels up inside.

Ginny points at someone across the room, and Harry follows her finger with his gaze, then looks down at her with a skeptical expression and shakes his head.

She tries again, this time landing on a sandy-haired blond who is eyeing Harry up from a seat at the bar.

The glimmer of interest in Harry's eyes makes me clench my fists in silent fury.

He nods, and she grins. Ginny tugs at the hem of his shirt, and Harry gives her an exasperated look. After a few seconds of nonverbal arguing, Harry pulls his shirt over his head and hands it to her, pointedly rolling his eyes.

My throat runs dry at the sight.

Harry looks... different. It is Harry Potter, mind you, my Harry Potter, and let me tell you, his body has always been a fucking masterpiece, but now it's also covered in literal artwork. I can't see more than dark, vague outlines and colorful shapes from this distance, but fuck, he's beautiful.

"Fucking hell," I murmur aloud.

The blond at the bar clearly likes what he sees, too. He licks his lips and gives Harry, my Harry, a seductive smile and a stupid little eyebrow raise over his drink.

Harry hesitates, looking nervously back at Ginny, and she smacks him right on the bum and lightly shoves him toward the bar.

A glass orb that's glowing with purple light above them explodes in a burst of accidental magic. My accidental magic? ...Possibly. Who can say for sure?

Everyone in the vicinity ducks and looks around fearfully. Harry has wrapped himself around Ginny protectively, a glimmering Protego Charm already in place, his wand drawn as they look for any sign of a threat.

Ginny blanches when she spots me standing a little ways off, and Harry follows her shocked gaze.

His Shield Charm drops.

As the others around them relax and start moving again, the threat clearly nonexistent, Harry slowly stands and tucks his wand into its leather holster on his thigh, the way the Aurors all tend to wear them, his movements oddly rigid.

Ginny squeezes his arm and says something in his ear. He shakes his head, and she presses his t-shirt into his hand, then releases his arm and walks away, giving me a hard, appraising look as she passes by.

I don't know how or exactly when, but I've crossed the space between us and Harry and I are now standing just a few feet apart, and I can't stop staring at those bloody tattoos.