Characters: Hermione, Marietta
Summary
: A magic bruise shows her what she's done.
Pairings
: None
Author's Note
: This may not be the politically correct position to take, but I feel sorry for Marietta. I really do, and, naturally, I sort of have a "What the Hell, Hermione?" moment every time I read Order of the Phoenix these days. I wonder if she ever gave a second thought to Marietta beyond thinking about what a weak-willed bitch she was for ratting out the DA.
Disclaimer
: I don't own Harry Potter.


It's a bruise, circling her eye. The work of one of the Twins' hilarious punching telescopes; Hermione has more reason now to scorn their products than ever. A punching telescope, really? Honestly, how immature can you get? If you're the Twins, very.

It's a bruise circling Hermione's eye, and it won't go away. Mrs. Weasley's tried everything, every spell and easily-prepared potion she can think of, and it just won't go away. Make-up won't cover it either; the foundation just vanishes on contact.

Hermione stares into the Weasley's scratched, dingy bathroom mirror now (she still wonders how such a large family gets along with just one bathroom) now and fingers moodily at the bruise, circling its outline with her deft, clever fingers and trying not to touch the bruise first.

Purple skin dominates around the eye but really, it doesn't hurt, not like a real bruise should, even though the skin is swollen and puffy. Even then, when Hermione finally sucks in her breath and prods the swollen skin, it doesn't hurt. Her bruised skin is just… there.

Her stomach starts to churn.

Will it go away? Will Fred and George have something that will take care of this? Given that it's Fred and George, the prospect that they don't have an antidote is looming large in Hermione's mind and making her muscles tense with anxiety for what feels like an eternity. The flickering candlelight on the mirror makes her face seem somehow mask-like.

Hermione can't describe how much she wants this to just go away. Vanity, she likes to think is a vice she doesn't indulge in, but she has no desire to go the rest of her life with a black eye, even if it is painless.

Why would anyone want to spend their lives with such a salient and obviously magical blemish on their face?

Why would anyone…

Hermione pauses, and licks her dry lips.

Why would anyone want to do that to someone else?

What comes to mind now is not the black eye on her face but the curling letters 'SNEAK' etched in pimples on the cheeks of another. That blemish won't go away either; any of the pimples will fester rather than scab and heal when popped, sending the most miserable waves of pain across the skin. At any rate, if they ever go away (which they won't; Hermione is very sure of her work), they will scar in the process and leave fragments of letters etched across Marietta Edgecombe's face.

Hermione stares heavily into her reflection and beyond, into the shadows beyond the candlelight.

It seemed like such a good idea at the time, some savage part of her telling herself that whoever ended up with 'SNEAK' on them would no doubt deserve it.

They would have deserved it.

They would have deserved to be branded TRAITOR, deserved to be marked in a way no one could ignore, for the rest of their lives.

Again, fingers probe a magic bruise that won't go away.

It doesn't seem like such a good idea now.

(Hermione tells herself that she's going to have to start experimenting with a potion to counter that hex.)