Colour tattoo of a corked potion bottle with a teal ribbon and the words felix felicis, placed on the top of a bare foot near the ankle.

Felix Felicis potion bottle on the foot

Ankle · Colour · Photo

A bare foot shows a tattoo of a small corked bottle with a teal ribbon curling above it. The label on the bottle reads felix felicis, and the glass and label are filled with teal and orange ink with simple outlines. The bottle sits centrally on the top of the foot against green plants and dry grass.

Ankle Bottle Ribbon Text

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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

Now, you want to hear about the bakery on Pell Street, where the ovens were lit an hour before the sparrows woke, and the baker never once looked at a clock. Before the sky went grey over the chimneys, she would lift the little brown bottle down from the top shelf, the one with the cork gone soft and the teal ribbon knotted round its neck, and tip a single drop into the first batch of dough. One drop was enough, her mother always said, to make the whole morning lean your way.

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One frosty morning a boy came knocking at the back door, his satchel heavy with books and his face the colour of wet paper. He had an exam at nine and wanted a drop of that luck for himself. The baker wiped her hands on her apron and shook her head. Luck isn't a thing you swallow, she told him, it's a thing you hand on. She pressed a warm cob loaf into his arms and sent him off with it.

Weeks later the boy came back with his coat torn at the elbow. He had given the loaf to an old man sleeping in the doorway of the chemist, and the old man had broken it in half and given the other half to a girl selling matches, who in turn had shared it with a cabbie waiting out the rain. Every one of them, the boy said, had found a small piece of good fortune by teatime. The baker went quiet, then lifted the bottle down and held it to the window. The liquid inside had grown lighter, but the ribbon was still bright and the cork still sound.

So that's the secret, my love. The bottle never ran dry. It only ever needed somebody willing to give the bread away.