The next day Madam Pomfrey declared Malfoy's arm free of salamander fire and closed the wounds. Between classes and apprenticeship in the medical ward he could be found in the library with heavy healer tomes spread around him as he searched for a spell that would remove the Dark Mark. Once Hermione had asked him what he was looking for in an attempt to help, but he told her in no uncertain terms to kindly piss off.

Harry had gotten an earful about it when he returned from scrubbing cauldrons for Slughorn that evening. His fingers were raw from rasping against cast iron and all he wanted was a shower to remove the now familiar film of funk that marked the end of every apprenticeship session. Instead he had to listen to his friend rant about injustice of Draco Malfoy's ingratitude towards the kindness of others.

So when Harry raced to the library the following Monday, he half expected Malfoy to send him away with a hex. Instead Malfoy looked up with nothing more antagonistic than a bit of surprise and maybe a hint of annoyance at being interrupted. Harry plopped down into the chair next to him, grinning in spite of himself.

"What in bloody hell are you smiling about, you cockeyed git?" Malfoy's greeting just made Harry grin harder.

"I think I know how to remove your Dark Mark," Harry blurted out, glancing around belatedly to make sure no one was there to overhear.

"No you don't," Malfoy sighed and closed the book in front of him. "I've read every resource there is on healing and I'm down to the esoteric historical stuff now. Nothing works."

"No listen," Harry insisted. "How did you get the mark? How did they put it on you?"

"I told you it's a tattoo, essentially," Malfoy pushed up his sleeve and exposed it for Harry to see up close. It was the first time Harry had had a chance to look at it since it had been mended. The sight of it, the shape itself made him uncomfortable. "They held me down and tapped a needle into my skin. Everywhere the black mark is, that's a needle tap. Over and over, stabbing ink into my skin." He pulled the sleeve down, rubbing his hand across it in memory of the pain. "They invoked a spell as they worked, enchanting the ink with the Dark Lord's power."

"Well the Dark- Voldemort is dead," Harry pointed out. "His power is gone. He enchanted lots of stuff while he was here, and it's all normal now." He touched the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. "Even my scar is fading," he held up his forelock and showed the famous mark. It used to be red, visible from across the room. Now it was a silvery white, far less noticeable unless one knew to look. Malfoy stared at the scar, then tore his eyes away and gazed at the floor.

"What you've got left is just a tattoo," Harry pointed at Draco's concealed arm. "A plain old tattoo. No enchantment. You've been looking for a way to lift an enchanted mark, but that's not what you need."

He slapped a piece of glossy, colorful paper down on the table. Malfoy picked it up and inspected it, the confusing jumble of words and images obfuscating its meaning. The vertical groove between his eyebrows appeared again. "What are you on about, Potter?"

"Ron and Hermione and I went to London last weekend," Harry explained, deftly retrieving the paper and pointing to the salient information. The text read "Laser Tattoo Removal."

"What's a laser?" Malfoy's brow remained furrowed.

"It's like," Harry looked around for something in the wizarding world to use as a familiar analogy. "It's like light, focused in a tight line, so tight it can burn things. It can even cut through things."

"You want them to shoot burning light at it?" Malfoy looked at Harry like he was out of his mind. "I was kidding when I said I would consider cutting off my arm."

"No no," Harry was frustrated by his inability to explain. "Different lasers do different things. This one just burns the tattoo part off. Not the rest."

"How do you know it works?" Malfoy was justifiably skeptical. Harry understood, it sounded like he was saying the muggles could work magic that wizards couldn't.

"Look at the other side," Harry flipped it over, showing three rows of before and after photos. "Some of these are really big and really black, but they're totally gone afterwards."

Malfoy frowned. He took the flyer from Harry's fingers and inspected the testimonial photos again. They certainly looked good.

"The sodding photos don't even move," he said, handing it back and standing up. He waved his wand and swept his books over to the return cart. "If you think muggles can really do something like that, you're mad." He turned in a swirl of robes and departed, leaving Harry holding the flyer.