Fine line black tattoo of the Deathly Hallows symbol, a triangle with a circle and vertical line, on the centre of a chest above a grey knit cardigan.

Deathly Hallows symbol on the chest

Fine line · Chest · Black and grey · Photo

A close crop of a woman's chest and collarbone shows a small black outline tattoo of the Deathly Hallows symbol, made of a triangle, a circle and a vertical line through the circle. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the tattoo is set near the centre of the chest at the neckline of a grey knit cardigan. The palette is entirely black ink against warm skin tones, and the composition keeps the focus on the small design.

Fine line Geometric Chest Deathly hallows Triangle Circle Line Symbol

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Before the bakers in Cold Mere had lit their ovens, Agnes Pell was already at the trough with her sleeves rolled, arguing with the dough as if it owed her money. Three young men had walked in off the moor road the night before and slept in her hayloft, and she had heard them at first light quarrelling over who should carry the sack of flour.

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The eldest, Tobias, wanted the mill wheel. The middle boy wanted the road. The youngest, Wren, wanted only to be left alone. They had met a grey man at the ford who offered each of them a gift for crossing his water: a hazel rod that would never break, a stone that could call back one who had gone, and a cloak that hid its wearer from every eye that searched for him. Each had taken something, and now they argued about which was best.

Agnes listened, then drew a loaf from the oven she had lit by hand. "Your grey man will want his due, and he always does," she said. "Eat first. A man who is fed does not bargain well." They ate. The rod was no use for bread, the stone stayed cold, and when Wren pulled the cloak round himself his brothers could not find him, so they stood shouting at an empty doorway until Agnes laughed so hard she had to sit down on the flour sack.

Wren drew the cloak off and sat beside her. She gave him the heel of the loaf, still warm, and said nothing about gifts. The stone stayed in his pocket, unused, and the three of them went out into the grey light with the bread wrapped in a cloth, while the first cart of the morning rattled past the shop window.