A Wing and a Prayer

It was wet, windy and rainy - as was the norm for British weather. It was as if already, or at least today, summer had gone away and autumn had begun to lay waste to the little island that Millie loved so. It was bitter and grotesque. She’d been a little more sensible this time ‘round and had decided not to go out, regardless of the weather, in shorts and a thin t-shirt that barely covered all of the necessary parts. No, sensibly she’d picked a pair of three-quarter-length jeans, stole one of her brother’s crisp white shirts off of the pile in the kitchen that was ready for him to take upstairs, and slipped on her trusty pair of flowery Dc. Martin’s. She’d also remembered that a coat was a good idea and had thrown on her beige trench before picking up an umbrella and going out into the world. The walk to Diagon Alley wasn’t particularly pleasant but she’d had worse and in less suitable clothes. She wasn’t about to claim about this. At the very least, she was warm.

Now, Millie was stood outside Dryad’s, the piercing and tattoo shop run by a pair of Muggleborn wizards who, as it happened, had been small-time musicians back in the early 2000’s. She’d already been in, croissants under her arm, and had supplied some breakfast for them. As it turned out, the visit during the middle of the week had been most rewarding and they’d come up with a handful of designs for her to pick from. She, ultimately, chose the third of the four despite liking all of them, and told them that she’d be back in a while. Trent was due any time and so now she found herself standing under the eaves of the shop, the only sign she was there being the amber glow at the end of the cigarette that had been as difficult to light as it was to keep it alight.

Millie was relaxed though, she didn’t feel any of the anxiety that would have and probably should have been building up inside of her. No, instead she was the picture of calm and was eagerly awaiting Trent’s arrival. He wanted to be there. Why, Millie didn’t know but she was but she wasn’t going to begrudge him of that desire.

The only one that actually knew apart from Trent was Brother-Bot who, after some serious bribing, agreed not to tell their parents. Millie was now half a packet of cigarettes short and knew that she’d have to go and pay her way again for some more. Either that or she stole them back but then there would be the problem of the ‘rents prematurely finding out about her tattoos. Well, it wasn’t plural yet but the phoenix was in the works. She was also tempted to work a snake in with the phoenix but she hadn’t figured out that part yet. The wings however, were set and ready to go. She wasn’t entirely sure how magical tattoos worked but the guys seemed fairly confident about it. Pain potions were stacked high on the shelves in there and there were a number of wands with different labels underneath mounted on a wall. Millie supposed she’d find out once she got in there but she was wondering whether it would have been better to do it the Muggle way; or at least, she had been.

Then they’d told her that the wings would move.

Days ago, Trent had ran away from the circus with the load of Millie that he had picked up, and stolen molzy cotton-candy. The destination was to Dryad's at Diagon Alley, but the commotion that was caused had caught the attention of the male Finnigan twin, who had given chazzy and demanded that Trent not make a fool out of his dazzy sister. The problem was easily dismissed because the boys were buddies after all, and Brother-Bot could be appeased easily, though selectively. It was nothing Trent and Millie could not appease together. Still, the day had concluded with dinner at a muggle al fresco cafe, not too far away from the circus. Just some food and spazzy laughter, but no tattoo.

When Millie mentioned that this was going to be the day to get her first tattoo, Trent had jumped at the idea, literally. His mind had ran through the couple of muggle tattoo places that he had gone to with his friends, for his and their body art. Millie's mention of Dryad's was new to the boy. It made him think, once again, that he really ought to be a little more aware of his own world. He had too many excursions to the muggle world, although his parents seem to have no problem with that, which worked for him.

Trent was someone who had serious problems waking up. At school, boys in his dormitory would take turns to kick or punch him awake everyday. It was the only possible way to ensure that Trent does not oversleep for his classes. At home, Trent had devised a Lego-punching set that was connected to his alarm clock, which was a Lego one too. The boy's entire room was practically over-flowing with Lego sets and figurines. Too bad that he had punched the one of King's Cross in on one morning when he was trying to fight waking up. It had lay there in a sorry state of debris, and Trent had felt too lazy to fix it up again.

With the help of his punching device and the excitement about Millie finally getting a tattoo, Trent had got up from his bed and zombie-marched to the toilet to wash up. He already had clothes on, clothes that were randomly taken out of the wardrobe just before he went to bed, so that he could just up and leave the house as soon as he woke up. It was a habit that Demelza had exhausted her naggings on her son for. She could not understand how parents who were neat freaks could produce a son so lazy that he actually went to sleep in clothes for the next day.

And then Trent heard the combination of wind and rain outside his window, and he hopped to the window to realise that the clothes he had decided on just will not do. Easy, he thought. Quickly, he took a grey hoodie out of his wardrobe before he ran down the rather narrow stairs to reach the front door of his house. There, he stopped and checked his jeans pockets. Lighter? Check. Cigarettes? Check. Weed ... no. Trent scowled. He had ran out of them. Shrugging to himself, he exited the house and tried to get to Diagon Alley as quickly he could.

Trent hates it when it rains. The weather made everything look so dreary, and he could not risk destroying his cigarettes from the wetness of the rain. When the boy finally found himself in Diagon Alley, he could not put it off any longer, and so he lit a cigarette. The number of people along the alley was scarce, probably all avoiding the rain. It suited Trent. He did not like the stares he could get on busy days. It did not help that he was incredibly tall. Dean Thomas was tall, but Trent looked set to be taller. He could not decide if his inability to be dodgy and hide in the crowd was a good thing.

It was a bit of a walk, and Trent thought he had lost his way - how lame if he did - until he saw the familiar figure of his pretty friend. Trent took a deep inhale of his cigarette before lightly holding it between two fingers. "Hello gorgeous. Ready to pop your ... well ... raspberry?" Trent grinned before a put the cigarette between his lips again. "The weather is atrocious. How can it cry on such a wonderful day like this? Brother-Bot is ... not here?" He had thought so. That other boy was a little more uptight about life. It was probably what made Trent closer to his sister instead.

"So! One on each cheek, eh? What will it be? Trenton, or Trent? I think Trent would do well on both cheeks. Everyone will love it. Words of pure seduction." And then, the boy took a step away to get a good look of Dryad's. He had never been to a tattoo place for wizards, and now that he was standing in front of one, the temptation to get another art on his body was great. The problem was, he did not want Millie to see him in a grimace while he is worked on. Sure, Trent had no problem overcoming the anxiety of getting a tattoo, it was just that the process of getting it was one that he had never been a fan of. The others had teased him for the look on his face as the pain registered into his nerves. Without pain potions, Trent had suffered a bit for the ones on his body.

[OOC: as promised, I dropped molzy chazzy dazzy spazzy in XD]

It seemed as if the music scene in the Magical World was really quite lacking but not nearly as much as Millie had first thought. Raking her arms around the little alley she’d found herself in, she took in the brightly coloured posters depicting dance competitions, concerts and festivals in fields that were in the middle of absolutely no where. Millie was half tempted to go but the price was through the roof and she was spending what she had left of her birthday money on the art that was going onto her back. She didn’t mind so much but she was going to admit going to a festival or something of the same ilk would have been just as fun and probably less painful. She mentally went through her Dad’s schedule. If she was right then he’d be home early and that presented a chance to get some money off of him. It would probably mean that Brother-Bot would have to go too but Millie had already decided she was going to stick him in the tent with all of the bongs and leave him to it. He would have great fun.

Millie lifted her eyes from the posters at the sound of feet slapping down against the wet cobbles. She smiled brightly at the sight of Trent but did not move out from under the eaves. She tapped her cigarette, sending the ash spiralling towards the ground, and smirked at Trent before laughing and running a hand through her hair. “Morning baby,” She replied, her voice betraying her excitement. “Oh! I have something for you!” Millie put her cigarette between her lips and unbuttoned a couple of the buttons on Brother-Bot’s shirt. She tugged the chain that was around her neck, unhooking the necklace she wore from where it had caught on the lace of her bra and not a second after, she retrieved two rectangular pieces of card. She held them up, a smirk forming at the sides of her lips. She slowly began to fumble with the buttons with one hand and held the cards out to Trent.

Removing the cigarette from between her lips, Millie let the smoke drift away before speaking. “Puddlemere are playing the Kestrals next weekend - as if you didn’t know already,” she smiled. “Dad bought a handful of tickets. He was giving them away. Saved two but it turned out he was working and asshole is too busy reading PlayWitch to care. Two spare tickets, love. If Puddlemere win - which they won’t - then they play the Magpies up in Montrose. ‘Fraid that’s our turf though, baby. I hope you don’t mind going down.” Millie smiled wickedly at him and flicked her cigarette in the gutter.

The blonde scoffed, her lips curling upwards once more. “Like I’d bare my arse to some guy just so I could have your name tattooed onto it. You’ve got another thing coming. C’mon, let’s go in. It’s freezing out here.” Millie’s hand came to the handle of the door and she smiled at Trent before stepping up onto the porch and pushing the door open. The hot hair hit her immediately and she sighed contentedly before looking around to see if Trent was following her. “Come on slow-poke. If you’re lucky then you can have my name tattooed on your arse.”

Why was she always doing this? As if Trent did not already possessed the mind of a perv, but it seemed as if every meeting with Millie gave him something to lust after. How odd was it then, that friendly hugs and pecks on the cheeks were the furthest Trent had gone on with this girl? Perhaps, then, he observed boundaries more than he really let up. When Millie said she had something for him, and then proceeded to undo some buttons, Trent grinned cheekily. "Woah Mills, not here!" And then she merely tugged at her necklace to produce two cards. The boy let his eyelids droop as he began to decide if he should bang his head on the wall or just laugh hard at what he had thought earlier.

"Baby, if such good things come out from under your shirt. I can't wait to what else is hiding in there." Trent chortled and reached for one of the tickets that the girl offered. "But yes! Merlin, I love ..." Trent had his eyes wide opened and directed to Millie, and then he turned them to his ticket, ready for a pucker. "you!" Gleefully, he kissed the ticket in his hand. What a reward. And why was it still raining? It was turning out to be a fabulous day. "And, you wish, Mills. Puddlemere is going to banish the Kestrals to the extraterrestrial, and smash those Magpies into pudding. You'll see! But I don't mind going down ..."

Trent trailed his eyes down the girl's body before laughing again, an eye on his shoes before he realised that he had exited the house without his trusty skateboard again. Something was very wrong with him, to forget his skateboard. It must be the fact that it had gotten so dirty that Demelza had demanded that her son not bring that thing into the house, any further than why the shoes were kept. Trent was too used to having his skateboard up in the room, and then now this has caused him to forget his skateboard twice in a row! A bad sign for something, Trent thought, strangely superstitious about his skateboard. It was his better half, after all, although he had been lazy to clean her up.

"Awww, shucks. Mills, I forgot my wife again. Two days in a row!" No it was not enough to think that, Trent had to whine to Millie about it. And then because she began to talk about what he had teased about -- tattoos on the arse, Trent's eyes lit up again. "Perhaps I should consider Puddlemere on one cheek, and United on the other. Way to show my support. I could moon the crowd and claim that I'm merely cheering the team!" The boy was not serious, but he nodded eagerly anyway, feigning serious intention on that plan. Trent reached a hand up to his hair and ruffled it up. The rain had made it slightly wet, but Trent liked that feeling on his head. The hot air that swarmed out of Dryad's when Millie opened the door was definitely inviting, and Trent quickly took a last drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the ground for his shoes to crush it. As soon as that was put out, he followed his friend in.

Trent allowed himself an eyeful of the shop. It looked nothing like the muggle ones that he had visited. Instead of the noisy sounds given out by the tattoo machine, there was a gentle humming that seemed to be emitted from the back of the shop. And then he realised that there were no tattoo machines. Instead, he saw wands and bottles everywhere. His curiosity was undoubtedly piqued. A stout red-haired man appeared suddenly from the back of the shop, and Trent noticed that he even had tattoos on his face. While the boy would really much like to continue staring at the pieces on the man's face, he offered a smile first. "Hi there."

A complete fool, Millie was not. Trent was a hot-blooded Gryffindor male. There was no way a lacy bra in the scarlet of their house wasn’t going to catch his attention. Millie couldn’t quite keep the smirk off of her lips. “You’d be so lucky,” She murmured, her lips quirking upwards in response to his outburst. She didn’t quite figure herself to be the type to drop her knickers in an alleyway but there was a first time for everything, as always. She couldn’t really imagine doing that with Trent though. A few Slytherins perhaps, but not Trent. He was worth a little bit more to Millie than a hasty shag between lessons - as was what she tended to do at Hogwarts. No, she held Trent higher in regard. Heck, she liked him more than she did the ones that she’d tumbled into a broom closet with for a funny five minutes between Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures.

Millie laughed aloud at his condemning of the Kestrels. Puddlemere only just got a look in. Her poor friend was deluded. “Oh good,” She responded with a grin. “Extraterrestrial is wonderful because that still means we’re going up. I think a little bit of a wager is in order darling. I don’t actually mind whether you banish us anywhere as long as it’s up the league table. Sorry, baby. Twenty sickles each way to keep it sweet? We could go home rich yet.” Millie laughed again and shook her head. She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You should really stop neglecting her. She sends me owls - despairing that you don’t love her as you did.” Millie ran a hand through her hair again and smiled at him, cocking her head to the side before laughing.

Dryad’s was a beautiful shop. Designs covered the walls and all manner of items were shelved. She smiled to herself and looked up to see one of the owners emerge. He was ginger. Millie brightened immediately. She hadn’t realised before. Perhaps she’d been distracted. He gestured for her to take a seat on the chair and she danced over, plopping herself down without a second thought. His stiff, Irish brogue came out in response to Trent’s greeting and Millie felt her smile widen at the sound. Irish accents always reminded her of her dad. She’d lost hers though, much to her dismay. Her mum, however, always told her that when with her father, she spoke just like he did - with an Irish accent. Lavender had commented on that fondly, and had also noted how odd it was at the dinner table; especially when Millie and her father started arguing over politics or Quidditch. Two angry Irish people yelling at the top of their voices while Lavender and Brother-Bot were wiping up - there was nothing better to listen to.

“Right then Miss Millie - ‘ow’re yer feelin’, lassy?” He asked, taking a seat behind her. Millie giggled and the man smiled. “Grand, I take it.” he chuckled.

Millie nodded and she lifted her eyes to Trent’s. “Bare your arse to the world, love, and I’ll get your name tattooed across my left breast.” She grinned at him and unbuttoned her shirt again, knowing that she’d essentially need to be topless for him to work on her back. She smirked and shrugged the shirt off before bundling it up and tossing it to Trent. “Catch! Don’t lose it, it’s Brother-Bot’s. I essentially ran out of clothes this morning. Would have come naked but ... y’know. It’s cold and raining.” She grinned and turned to see the man, Andrew, bustling around behind her. “Ready, hun?”

“You didn’t want colour did yer, lass?” Millie shook her head. “Pain potions love?” Millie shook her head. Andrew smirked a little and picked up one of the wands. He pressed it against her back and Millie gave a shout.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” She exclaimed, throwing her arm up and turning awkwardly to try and see what he’d done. Andrew chuckled and pointed to the shelves.

“Get her one of the potions, lad,” He told Trent. “She’s not that brave, regardless of how good her right hook is. You might want to come and hold her hand too. No matter how good those bloody things are, they don’t quite take the edge off of having your nerves messed with. Why did you have to pick a big one on your first go? Couldn’t you just have that lovely phoenix you gave us sketches of?”

Millie smirked. “Nope. I never do things by halves. The Phoenix will come later, have no fear.”

Millie ran a hand through her hair and laughed before dropping her hands back into her lap. And so it began, didn’t it?

Before Trent stepped into Dryad's, his ears picked up the sound of a wager, and he grinned. "Mills. If you want to have a wager on it, let's chuck the sickles away. I say ... winner gets to pick a dare for the loser. Doesn't that sound like a load of fun?" Delusional? Trent probably was. His mind was already starting to be bombarded with various ideas of a dare. He could think of really horrid ones, and this was undoubtedly because he had seen and experienced loads of them with his muggle friends. There was that one time that someone was made to drop his pants in front of a girl he liked, and then another was made to walk around town in his mother's clothes. They were all nothing short of hilarious. Still, Trent probably would not have the heart to give Millie too much of a pain with the dare. Firstly, though, he would have to be the winner. Nothing was more thrilling than rooting for the underdogs, and Trent felt an unfounded certainty that he would be rewarded.

In Dryad's, Millie looked really at home, as if she had been here before. It was amazing, really, how she usually manages to charm everyone around in her quirky way. It was obvious how much Andrew liked his customer for the day. Trent was prepared to be merely an audience, before he felt something soft smack him in the face. He looked down at what his hands had caught, felt his eyes widened, and his head shot up to look at Millie. He was too busy admiring the displays of wands and designs in Dryad's to notice that his friend had become topless. The boy had wanted to reply to Millie about mooning the world, or at least the people at the Quidditch stadium, when that shirt flew to his face. And when it did, he forgot his reply.

"You ... ran out of clothes?" That was a voice of doubt. Trent never really knew of girls who ran out of clothes. Too many times, the muggle girls that he visited would make him idle around their room as they fussed about their wardrobe, changing from outfit to outfit, and never settling on one until an hour later. He never did complain about having to sit through those though. He was very patient with people. Besides, there would be no justice in saying that he did not like to be allowed to sit in. "And you're not to run around naked unless you've boy parts." Andrew lifted his head to eye Trent at that comment, and Trent felt one side of his lips twitch, not knowing why he got that look.

Trent felt ..... embarrassed? It was an odd feeling, really. He liked to poke fun at Millie in a cheeky way, but when faced with an opportunity to give a full-on stare when she bared her top for a tattoo, he felt his cheeks getting a little hotter than he had expected. Trent thanked his lucky stars that his skin was dark. If he was pale, he would probably be laughed at by the girl who did not look fazed about the situation at all. Trent's eyes averted to everywhere but his friend. He even looked curiously when Andrew picked up a wand, but quickly turned when the wand touched the girl's back. It's JUST a back, Trent told himself, a little irritated at his odd reaction. What were all the experiences with other girls for if he was going to act like an idiot to just one?

Millie was mad, really, to refuse pain potions on a first tattoo experience. Trent was surprised she did, but chuckled to himself as soon as he heard her exclaim. He really could not stop chuckling even when Andrew told him to fetch a pain potion. He made his way to the shelve and then he heard Andrew suggest that he held Millie's hand throughout the process. Well, that stopped the chuckles. Trent tried to come up with an excuse to not do so, but his mind was a blank parchment. He wished now, that Brother-Bot was asked along too.

Trent grabbed one of the pain potions and took a few steps before stopping, and then shuffling his feet a little closer to where the two people waited for him. The humming at the back of the shop was still going on. Andrew eyed Trent when he began to shuffle awkwardly. Trent could not decide if he was impatient or he thought that this younger boy was an oddball. "Come on, now!" It was friendly, and Trent did not feel so bad. He quickly passed the pain potion to the man and stood at his side instead. Andrew unscrewed the cap to the potion before turning slowly to stare at the boy. "...yes? Go on, stand on the other side!" He pointed to the other side of Millie that was vacant. "...and pull up a stool. Get comfy." And then Andrew turned his attention back to Millie.

Trent cautiously made his way to the other side, grabbed a stool, and sat down on it. He managed to train his eyes on Millie's face, although it would be odd to just keep staring into her face the whole time. Trent straddled between the looks to her face and looks to the floor. "H-H-How're you doing?" And then he offered a sheepish smile. However, on the inside, he was already stabbing himself for the embarrassment of the stutter. Now Andrew was going to think that Trent is one odd geek of a friend of Millie's. He really did not want that. It was so damaging to his ... reputation, not that he ever cared for one. Still, he was a guy, alright. There were still certain impressions to upkeep.

Trent lifted the bundle of shirt that had covered Millie only a moment ago, and put it around his neck. He forced himself to look at her, and smiled. "Well, don't cry now, or we'll have something to laugh about later." And then a nervous chuckle, and Trent tried to ignore it. "You can bite my hand if you want." Chuckling, Trent offered his hand to the girl.

Oddly enough, Trent seemed quite shocked by the idea that Millie had just simply run out of clothes to wear. She’d had to go rooting for her jeans that morning and that had not been a pleasant experience in the least. Finding out that her brother had a thing for canary yellow underwear was horrifying enough without finding more underwear of similar bold colours in his room. It had been one of her better mornings at home though, at the same time, one of the worst. Running out of clothes was something that happened more often than Millie would have liked. Lavender had been overly protective over the clothes she’d bought her daughter the weekend before, telling Millie shortly that they were for Hogsmeade trips and not for running around with her ‘no-good’ friends that would embed the smell of smoke into the fabric. It continued to amaze Millie that she was so oblivious to the fact that twatface smoked in his room and Millie stole from him so she could smoke out in the wide world. She was as dense as she was when she was their age.

“Yeeeaahhhh...” Millie replied slowly, drawing out the word with heavy sarcasm lilting her voice. “I ran out of clothes. Doesn’t that happen to you? My Mum is being a hoarder and doesn’t want to give up the ones she bought the other week so I had to steal from the asshole. The jeans, however, are all mine, thank Merlin - oh, and the shoes!” She lifted her legs and smiled, cocking her head to the side before giggling and looking at Trent. Millie stuck her bottom lip out at his second comment and her eyes widened to saucer size. “B-But...but...what if I want to walk around naked?” She sniffled and dropped her eyes to her feet.

Millie brightened when she felt the cold glass of the potion vial on her arm. She smiled brightly at Andrew and uncorked it before bringing it to her lips. She tipped her head back and shuddered as the bitter potion swam down her throat, but knew it would do her some good. She corked the vial once more and handed it back to Andrew who placed it in a box of sorts. She smiled to herself and Andrew waved his wand across her back. She glanced over her shoulder to see the pale outlines of the tattoo appear and she turned back again, bracing herself for the pain that was to come. But, when Andrew pressed the wand against her back, she only shivered. It tickled. It tickled. Wait, what? Millie’s eyebrows shot to her hairline and the sensation came again. But then came the afterburner, the aggravation it had caused the nerves. Millie hissed and flexed her fingers in an attempt to ride out the pain. She did it, but only just.

Millie opened one of her eyes to see her bumbling friend sit himself down in front of her. At his stuttered question, Millie smirked, her mind taken away from the pain for a few moments. “You’re an idiot,” She told him simply. “I’m fine - how are you?” Millie took Trent’s hand and laced their fingers together, deciding it probably wasn’t worth sinking her teeth into his flesh. “How long d’you reckon it lasts before she finds out and sends me packing?” Millie asked with a smirk.

"No, Mills. I never run out of clothes. Seriously? I have twenty dresses, not to mention the ones mother bought for me at the sales. And then those skirts that I have, you should totally borrow them sometimes. So, no. That never happens to me. I should give you some of mine. You'll look so fit in them! And once, again, no you cannot walk around naked. I will haul in Brother-Bot and make sure we throw a sack over you and bundle you home. And you know when that happens ... you won't hear the end of things from him ..." Trent wriggled his eyebrows and grinned. "... so, just don't."

When Trent had sat down and began to observe the expressions on his friend's face, seeing that it was all he thought he could look at now, he saw her grimace. At that moment he thought he could feel her pain too, but really it was just a memory of his own. Trent bit his lower lip at the memory of it, and then he scowled. "You're the idiot." No reason, he had just had to say that. "I'm not the one getting a tattoo. We only want to know if you're fine." Trent watched his fingers get linked with his friends, and swallowed before looking up into her face again.

"It depends, really. You could make sure she never knows. Don't prance around naked at home, wear something that hides, you know. But if you can't stop yourself prancing in the nude, you could settle yourself in my house for the time being. No one will mind. Well, we will if you bring your nudity to our home. So as long as you don't do that, I'll give you my bed." Trent nodded, as if his head needed to approve of the message too. "Oh, but, you know. Sometimes I bring girls over. You can stay though. Oh, and you can have some, if you like them. Don't be shy, just let me know when you do. I share them." With a smirk of amusement, Trent chuckled instead and found that Andrew had looked at him again. Andrew smiled at him, though, and returned his attention to Millie.

If it wasn’t for the fact that behind the silliness lay a vaguely intelligent girl then there was a high chance Millie would have believed his words; then she really would have been her mother’s daughter. As it was, she was her father’s daughter and so she’d been blessed with whatever intuition he’d gotten from his parents. No, she could tell that Trent wasn’t being serious; as if the sarcastic tone wasn’t enough to give that away. In fact, she laughed at him, her mind turning to what he would actually look like in a dress and maybe even in a pair of heels. She giggled again as that image came into her mind and as her mind continued to run away from her, she began to think about dragging Trent to a club and getting him to see if he could pull any guys while in his drag getup. Millie was fairly confident he would; she had great faith in her friend.

“Remind me to come over and raid your wardrobe sometime. We can share clothes,” Millie laughed. Of course she was deadly serious, regardless of his bluff. She wouldn’t necessarily give him any of her clothes but she’d soon steal his. She particularly liked shirts; hence the reason she’d stolen her brother’s button down that morning. They were just easy to run around in. He’d often be whining to her for lying around in a pair of his shorts and one of his shirts. She’d once offered to let him borrow one of her shirts but then it all kicked off and the pair had a blazing row which ended up with both of them being kicked out for the evening. Millie had ended up at Gisele’s and her brother had buggered off to Merlin only knew where. He’d probably gotten drunk and ended up naked in a park somewhere; only to be found by Mrs. Hibbard down the road the next morning. Actually, there was no probably about it, that had happened.

“Oh but Trent!” Millie pouted. “Surely you won’t mind me wandering around naked! I’m not exactly going to go anywhere - could you imagine how cold that would be?” Millie shook her head and winced as her nerves trembled. “Are you saying you wouldn’t speak to me if I was naked?” Millie’s bottom lip wobbled. “He’s so mean to me Andrew!” She cried to the artist behind them, dropping her face into her hands. “He’s horrible!” Andrew merely chuckled in response and Millie lifted her head from her hands, pursing her lips in aggravation at his amusement. She turned her neck as far as it would go and squinted, delighted to see that slowly but surely, the tattoo was coming to life. Her eyes flicked back to Trent and she raised an eyebrow before grinning wickedly.

“I tell you what I do, to avoid a horrible dispute over this. Right, you listening? We go back to mine, pack a bag, tell her then wander out before she has a chance to pull her jaw off of the floor then go down the road, buy something to eat and spend the rest of the bloody day in St. James’ Park. Sound good to you? Then I can bunk at yours for the rest of the summer and we can have mad threesomes until the cows come home.” Millie rolled her eyes. “You can have the girls to yourself. I’ll sit downstairs and bond with your mum over some sort of show about owls or whatever. I love your mum...she’s so nice.” Millie smiled. “She cooks as if she’s expecting four thousand people to come to dinner. What’s up with that?” She laughed. “Not complaining though. My mum can’t cook for a light. Bloody hell. It’s like trying to chew cardboard.” Millie made a face. “You sure you won’t mind me invading your family? I’ll make a lovely addition! Promise! I’ll be great fun! I just know it will!”

There was no noise of drilling that is expected to come out from a tattoo machine. Instead, the room was filled with the humming at the back of the shop, and quiet concentration. Over all, it was peaceful. Trent already loved the place. He was already planning on a tattoo, although it is not to be done today. Curious at the sort of tattoos here that differ from mugger ones, the boy tried to sneak a peek to Millie's back, trying to overcome the initial embarrassment of her being topless in the shop. Trent felt his eyes shift about before it landed and merely concentrated on the tattoo forming on her back. A wing had already been formed, and it moved! Trent's eyes revealed its surprise and looked to Millie's face.

"It moved, Mills!" Andrew merely grinned at the boy's sudden excitement. The shop had nothing short of newbies, who in turn would become future customers. Dryad's got on this way, by word of mouth, they survived well despite their corner shop in Diagon Alley. "If Byron knew about this place, and if he dared to get one, I reckon he could get one of a flying quaffle, or a flying firebolt. He'll love it. I'll tell him." Trent nodded and stared at the work in progress on Millie's back again. The girl suddenly had a plan, and he merely raised his eyebrows, a little hesitant towards agreeing with it.

"Are you sure you want to just tell her like that? We could still laze around at St. James', then I can haul you home after. I mean, couldn't we just keep it from her? She'll be so furious." And Trent could hear Brother-Bot at it again, asking him to stop polluting his sister's mind. It was a good thing that Trent was still in the fairly good books of his friend's parents. Parents were always the last to know, weren't they? "But okay, if you insist, we could do that. And bond with my mother, you say?" Trent chuckled, although it was not a happy one. "If you even catch her at home. She's become as busy as dad. I find myself alone at home almost all the time. Sure I see food on the table, but they usually require heating up despite being delish. And when they get home from work, she cooks, they read their work or the paper, and then they're off to bed so that the next day they can disappear again. They haven't been home much on weekends either. I don't know why. It's getting quiet at home these days."

Trent sighed. "I guess it'll be fun to have you over. I'm sure the house won't feel like a ghost-town when you're there. Is Brother-Bot invited then?" When Trent took another look at the work on Millie's back, he saw that another wing had been formed. Soon, it would be done, amazingly done.