As he made his way down the dark dingy alley, Harry had to admit that becoming a dark wizard catcher and investor wasn’t anything like the images and scenarios he’d dream up in his head during his school days. But he enjoyed it for the most part, with the exception of days like today when he’d spent the majority of his morning following breadcrumbs that lead
to nowhere on a case he’d been working tirelessly on for four weeks counting.
His stomach gave a rumble in angry protest, and it was wonder that it did considering he’d worked straight through breakfast and lunch. So as he stepped into the tattoo parlor, Harry promised himself a nice taster pastry after question the last person on his list.
Only there was a problem.
Said person was currently busy working on a client who was in a rather compromising position, tattooing them in a place most unbecoming for any mortal’s eyes.
Suddenly Harry didn’t feel like nibbling on a pastry. His stomach turned.
Dressed head to toe in his auror’s robes, Harry carefully shuffled around so he could better address the tattoo artist. He opened his mouth with every intention of introducing himself, of politely telling the artist that he needed to ask them a a few questions about a suspicious character who came to visit the shop last week, but as his eyes fell on the client the artist was tattooing all that came out of Harry’s mouth was ,” WHY?” His green eyes were so wide that looked liked they could fall right out of his own head. “Why is it always you?!”