Black and grey flash sheet of Harry Potter themed designs, including the Deathly Hallows symbol, round glasses, a lightning bolt and several script phrases, with no body placement shown.

Harry Potter themed tattoo flash sheet

Lettering · Black and grey · Flash

A flash sheet on a white background showing a set of Harry Potter themed designs. The designs include the Deathly Hallows triangle and circle, round glasses, a lightning bolt, platform 9 3/4 with three stars, and several quotations set in serif, script and block lettering. All linework is solid black with no shading or colour, and the designs are arranged in a loose grid with even spacing.

Lettering Deathly hallows Glasses Lightning bolt Star Always Quote Script Triangle Circle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, the lot of you, the draught comes in under that door and the fire won't reach the back benches. Now, you've all heard of the platform between the ninth and the tenth that no timetable admits to? Old Orla Penhale swore it was a train for people who had lost something and would not say so out loud. Steam came up through the cobbles at dusk, and three stars would hang over the signal box as if someone had pinned them there.

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There was a lad called Tobin Marrow who wore spectacles mended with waxed thread, and he carried three things in his coat: a little tin triangle with a circle set inside it, a pebble worn through by water, and a grey cloak folded so small it fitted inside a matchbox. The pebble, he was told, could bring back anyone the sea had taken. The cloak was for hiding from his aunt's cross voice. The tin he never explained to anyone. Each night he stood at the platform's edge and said the old word for light, and a thread of white would fizz from his fingertip and show him the rails.

One November the tracks filled with a grey shape that wore his aunt's face and began to cry in her voice. Tobin remembered the charm his grandfather had taught him for frightening bogles, which was simply to think of the worst thing in the world as ridiculous. So he thought of his aunt's hat, the one with the pheasant feather, and he laughed until the thing unravelled into fog. He laughed so hard he dropped the pebble on the stones.

He did not go to fetch it. He let the sea keep what it had, and the train came in with its whistle, and he climbed aboard with no ticket, the tin triangle warm in his palm. The old folk say he is still riding it somewhere past the ninth, and if you stand at the edge at dusk and say that word for light, you may see his thread of white flicker back at you.