under an inky moon
This might be the least rock ‘n’ roll tattoo story ever.
A year ago I rewatched some of the Harry Potter films, and through all those hours of teen wizarding angst, I found myself over-identifying with Professor Lupin: a poor, crumpled werewolf teacher who understands the medicinal uses of chocolate and, incidentally, can’t tell when someone fancies him.
Lord knows those last two are pretty much my most defining characteristics. But that’s not what got to me. Lupin has to be careful not to let people know he’s sick with werewolf disease, or they’ll think differently about him. He wonders if his job might be in
