~Chapter Thirty-Seven~ Widdershins and Deiseal

Saturday dawned with a weak sun and clear skies over London.

Neither Hermione nor Draco had managed to snatch more than minutes of sleep through the night. Hermione had remained in the laboratory after their return from dinner, refreshed and ready to throw herself into a second sleepless night of work, particularly after how long they had dallied at the restaurant. Draco had done the same upstairs in his study, knowing that there was no way he would be able to sleep while she worked, and determined to crack the code of the letters on the bodies. Throughout the night Dilly had appeared by each of them by turns, offering what she was able to, and refusing to go to sleep, even when Draco tried ordering her to.

By dawn, both were red eyed, even with the aid of potions. Draco's brain felt like he'd put it in a vice for the last eight hours, but he knew his research was sound, even if he didn't like the answer it provided. Hermione was still working in the lab when he came to see her, and she was in a state of feverish exhaustion, the toll of the work showing in her face and movements.

"I have some news. About the codes. Can you leave the potions for a bit?"

Hermione glanced distractedly across the benches of cauldrons and ingredients, every spare scrap of space taken up with notes and diagrams and reference books. "This last attempt should be finished in half an hour."

"OK." Draco nodded tiredly. "I'll floo Potter and ask him to come by then." He turned to slowly leave, then paused, and reversed his movement. "Dilly says we must eat breakfast, by the way. She's already cooking it. If we don't eat it, she's going to force us to stop working. I'm willing to bet she could too."

Hermione smiled wanly. "I'll eat it. She doesn't need to worry."

Draco nodded and made his slow ascent back upstairs.


Half an hour later, Hermione and Draco were slowly eating the full English breakfasts Dilly had prepared for them, feeling some semblance of life returning to their bodies with every hot, salty, greasy mouthful. The little house elf stood over them as best she could, sternly watching to ensure they finished every morsel, Crookshanks sitting by her side. Harry had arrived, dressed for work already, and had been provided with a strong black cup of coffee.

"You two look done in."

"I really don't have much claim to it," Draco said between mouthfuls. "Hermione's been awake for nearly thirty-two hours by my reckoning."

Harry stared. "Malfoy, I'm surprised you let her use your potions like that."

Hermione waved a tired hand. "Harry, don't brow beat him. You know it was necessary."

Harry frowned. "Has it worked?"

Hermione took a sip of her coffee, shuddering faintly at the bitterness, but needing the caffeine. "I think I'm nearly there. I've perfected the first potion – that's the easiest. Preservation, resistance, fortification."

"Looks like you could do with drinking a shot," Harry commented dryly.

Hermione chuckled. "Quite possibly." She chewed and swallowed a mouthful of bacon and mushrooms. "I'm pretty sure I've got the third potion nailed as well. It's the one I've been able to test the least because of the Phoenix tears, but I've got enough to give it a few good tries later, and I'm almost certain it will be right."

Harry nodded. Draco remained deep in his food.

"It's the second one that's been giving me grief. The Lobalug and Peruvian Vipertooth venoms are powerful. Testing the potions that have resulted on fruit and dead rats has been…interesting."

Draco nodded into his coffee cup, having vividly recalled witnessing the results of one such experiment and having to promptly vanish the rat corpse that had burst into explosive flame, gouting acid. "No kidding."

Hermione shot him an apologetic glance. "I've worked out the correct ratio to prevent extensive damage to the user, and using knotgrass definitely helped with restraining and containing the area of effect. It's clear that it's not meant for ingestion like the other two, but rather for topical application."

"A relief to us all," Draco murmured.

"I'm hoping to figure it out by this afternoon at the earliest. There's something missing. An ingredient or something in the method."

Harry nodded. "It sounds good, Hermione. Kingsley will be very impressed."

"Less impressed when he sees how much this is costing." Hermione flushed a little.

Harry waved a hand. "The cost is nothing. The dignity of the victims is everything."

Hermione nodded.

Harry gave her an encouraging smile, then turned to Draco. "Send us receipts for the general potion ingredients too, Malfoy. You'll be reimbursed."

Draco waved a hand. "No need, Potter. It's probably the first good thing Malfoy gold has been used on in a long time."

Harry looked like he wanted to argue, but Draco looked a breath away from dropping, so he changed the subject. "You said you also had news? About the code breaking?"

Draco nodded, slowly pulling himself upright. He looked haggard, but not from exhaustion. "There is something. I guarantee it's not just the murderer trying to throw us off the scent with some random lettering. But we don't have what we need to untangle it."

Harry frowned, confused, and Hermione leant in, curiosity helping her to feel more awake.

"What do you mean?"

Draco sighed. "Think of it like a map. You need a key to understand the symbols. We have some of the symbols. Perhaps all of them, perhaps not. But we are missing the key. I suspect we don't have all the symbols yet, and that is the key we're missing."

"So there is a message of some sort then?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded.

Harry thought for a moment. "So you're saying…until we get more letters…on more bodies…we can't figure out what the message is?"

Draco nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so. It's not something I'm happy to say. And I don't think it's as complicated as we maybe think it is. The letters do spell out 'we are' if you separate them across the groups, or else 'were a' or 'we're a' depending on how you arrange them. That could be coincidence and nothing, or it could be the beginning of something. If there's one thing we know it's that this person, or people, like a spectacle. Sending a literal message with bodies couldn't get much more gruesomely spectacular. It's not definite, but I do think that's what it's pointing to. We just don't have the information to properly figure it out yet. But I would bet my wand that they haven't finished killing people yet, break or no break in the pattern."

Harry nodded soberly. "OK. Thank you, Malfoy. It may not feel good to say it, but at least we have that information now."

Draco jerked his head brusquely, clearly still dissatisfied.

"Do you have any news, Harry?"

Harry sighed. "No sightings at any of the previous locations where the bodies were found. I've got Aurors patrolling the areas where the victims were originally taken from as well, but not a blip. The only remarkable thing that's happened has been the attack on you, and that has about as many leads as a fish has fur, even with the help of what Draco figured out from your memory, and there are no hints that it was a radical group that was responsible. I've asked around the Auror office but none of them have encountered Dark wizards using similar masking spells, I'm afraid."

"I'll concentrate on figuring out the mask charm now," Draco said. "It could give us an additional lead, even if it's not directly related to the case."

Harry nodded his thanks. "A positive is that your continued appearances seem to have settled the reporters and the public following the whole thing. The fact that you're still out looking unconcerned has done more damage control than any Ministry press statement could."

"I'm glad it's achieving something." Hermione said through a yawn.

Harry looked at the pair of them concerned. "As much as I want to tell you to get some rest, please let me know the moment you've got something solid with the potions," he turned to Draco, "or about that charm. Kingsley has agreed that we continue with the idea that Sunday will be when they strike again, and that you should both focus on your respective research for today."

Hermione let out a deep breath of relief at the knowledge she had some extra time.

"But Sunday is going to have to be all about public appearances for you, so it won't leave much time for any last research."

Hermione and Draco nodded seriously. The word Sunday hung unspoken between them all like a guillotine blade above its victim.

"We can rest after Sunday," Hermione said firmly.

Draco nodded.

"There is one thing I've managed to sort out." Harry gave them a small smile. "Because you're so close to getting the potions sorted, Kingsley has agreed to set up a floo connection between here and the office for twenty-four hours. The reporters are still staking out the front gates, and he doesn't want you being waylaid. You'll be able to come right into the office. It will be activated starting at eight."

Hermione's eyes widened, and Draco looked shocked. "That's amazing, Harry."

"He came to test the wards here himself, and to add a few more."

Draco stared. "I had no idea."

Harry gave a wry smile. "I have some slight notion Kingsley enjoyed getting out sort of in the field again. He'll be gratified to know you didn't pick up on his presence, but also covered that gap with a few spells himself." Harry gave a nod to Draco, a hand on Hermione's shoulder and a smile, then left.

"I can't believe Kingsley trusts me enough for this." The words were an astonished murmur.

Hermione turned to Draco. "You've proven yourself to him. More than once during this case. And even if I hadn't seen it before this, I'm sure Kingsley had. You have a good track record helping Harry. He recognises that."

Draco nodded, still in a fog of disbelief.

Hermione smiled. "It's a restoration draught, and then back to brewing for me."

Draco stood up, collecting himself again. "I'll sort it out."


Hermione stood before the work bench, supported by restorative potions, and staring at the three cauldrons. The first was a deep opaque red, shifting and stable even though it had been sitting without flame or stirring for a long time, the surface not breaking despite the constant movement. The middle one was a vivid green, clear, and as motionless as the first one was fitful. The consistency was thicker, more like a solid than a liquid, and it seemed to eat the light. The last was a brilliant white, so bright it was hard to look at, and the surface effervesced constantly, blinking and sparking like white hot embers.

She glanced at her watch. It was an hour till midnight.

Draco had spent the day coming and going from the Manor to pick up various books that might give him insight into the mask charm, taken her out for lunch and for dinner as a final special effort on their part before the clocks ticked into Sunday.

It had been harder than she had expected to finalise the last two potions, but now, after forty-five hours of trial and error, Hermione was almost certain she had potions that were not only safe to test on the marked bodies, but also which would work.

She heard a soft mrow and glanced around to see Crookshanks standing in the doorway. He had come and gone throughout the day, always watching from a distance, but now approached and wound between her legs, clearly sensing that it was now safe to do so.

"Hey, Crooks. How are you?" She knelt to scratch the mangy cat behind his ears, drawing a deep throbbing purr from him. "I hear Dilly has been spoiling you." A rumble of pleased assent. "Seems like you don't mind it here." Another purr.

Hermione stood, stifled a yawn, and then eyed the potions.

"Well. I've come this far."


The Auror Office was silent. It had been strange being able to floo directly in, but a relief all the same, particularly after what Harry had said about the reporters in the Atrium. She doubted that any would be so stalwart as to still be at their posts at this time of the night, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. She popped her head out of Harry's office door, doing a quick sweep of the room for Aurors, and saw it was dark and silent.

It was the work of a few moments to activate the lift in Harry's filing cabinet, and then she was shooting down into the morgue.

"Lumos." A bubble of light ballooned from the tip of her wand and she flicked it towards the lamps in the ceiling, lighting them as the tiny lift cage slowed its descent and then halted.

The morgue was a cold and sterile place, all ceramic tiles, steel, and white enamel surfaces. It, too, was deserted for the evening, and Hermione hurried over, carefully taking out the bottles of decanted potion that she had brought with her, placing them on one of the examination benches, and hurrying over to the drawers with the bodies from the case.

She selected the oldest of the five, that of one of the Bulgarian men, and with a flick of her wand his tray slid out and floated across the room to stay hovering and stationary at hip height next to the table with the potions.

Another flick of her wand, and the sheet covering him peeled back, revealing his face, torso and arm. The Dark Mark glared malevolently up at her. A few feet away the potions shifted and shimmered in their row of red, green, and crystalline.

Hermione moved between the body and the table, taking a deep, steadying breath. "OK. Here goes…"

She reached for the red potion bottle and uncorked it. Holding the open bottle in one hand, she flicked her wand, siphoning out a tablespoon of the liquid, and directing it through the air, swirling and shifting, to float gently down and then into the dead man's mouth.

Closing her eyes, she began to pass her wand across his body from his head down, and then again, focusing her mind on the spell that would bring the potion through the magically preserved tissues of his body.

She opened her eyes.

If it was possible for a corpse that was nearly three weeks old to look full of vitality, then that was how the dead Bulgarian appeared. His greying flesh seemed less pallid, warmth returned to his skin tone. Hermione blinked, slightly unnerved, but pressed on.

She re-stoppered the first bottle, and then opened the second. The teaspoon of liquid that came out was sluggish and resistant, like face cream being scooped from its jar, and with her wand, Hermione carefully applied it to the ugly Mark on the man's forearm. The skull and serpent were still visible through the clear green potion, and seemed all the more evil for it, almost writhing before her eyes.

Hermione dismissed the notion immediately, and then reached for the jar she had picked up from Harry's office, removing the darkened cover. The Chizpurfle inside, which had been peacefully sleeping until that moment, immediately started up, wide awake, and began scuttling in circles around the base of the jar. It was a tiny thing, barely a twentieth of an inch in size, but in comparison to its body its fangs were huge. Its crab-like carapace was green and purple, and it was drawn towards the potions on the table, her wand, and the body of the man.

Hermione pointed her wand carefully into the jar. "Stupefy!"

The little parasite slumped, stunned.

Carefully, she reached in, scooping it out and placing it by the edge of the upturned Mark. Whilst she had been busy with the Chizpurfle, the second potion seemed to have taken effect. It was almost like watching a stain removed from clothing. The edges of the Mark had begun to bubble, tiny black particles breaking away and floating about in the green potion, which had darkened. It was hard to say for certain, but Hermione was fairly sure that the Mark looked less black, and more grey.

She monitored the progress of the second potion carefully and closely, one eye on the stunned Chizpurfle.

It took a good seven minutes before it seemed that there was no more that the potion could do. The Mark was faint through the messy green and black smear above it, and Hermione moved the tray and body further away from the table with the potions on it before reviving the parasite.

The Chizpurfle leapt back up onto its hard little feet, casting about, and then immediately locked onto the slick of potion in front of it, scuttling over and beginning to feed. Staying back to protect her wand, Hermione watched as closely as she could as the stained potion was slowly eaten away from the forearm of the dead man. The Chizpurfle worked fast, and within a matter of minutes had finished.

It paused after the last minute scrap of the potion had been removed, turning this way and that as it sought out its next meal. Its tiny beady eyes fixed on the wand in Hermione's hands, and seemed to flash for a moment.

"Stupefy!"

The Chizpurfle dropped mid-step, slumping unconscious once more.

Hermione quickly scooped it up and returned it to its jar, fastening the lid securely before reviving it, and covering it with the black cloth once more.

Then she looked at the Mark.

It was definitely still there, but faint, barely an outline left.

Hermione allowed herself a triumphant squeak of jubilation, dancing on the spot for a second before collecting herself once more. Her job was not finished yet.

Hands shaking a little, she picked up the last potion bottle and uncorked it.

The mouthful of the white potion that she siphoned out was like something between a white opal and a diamond, flashing and sparkling as it floated serenely through the air under her guidance, and down into the dead man's mouth.

Once again, Hermione repeated the dispersal spell, shifting the potion through his body.

After she had finished, she waited a moment, eyes screwed tightly shut, hand clutching her wand hard enough that she might snap it.

She opened her eyes.


"DRACO! DRACO! DRACO, I'VE DONE IT! I'VE DONE IT, I'VE DONE IT!"

Draco almost fell out of bed from the volume of the excitable otter Patronus that was swirling and chattering overhead. He raised a hand against the bright light, squinting as Hermione's voice carried on.

"Come to the Ministry! I'm in the morgue! It's worked! Draco! It's worked!"

It took a split second for him to take in the message and another for the full import of it to hit him. Then he was tearing downstairs, still in his pyjamas and running for the floo.


Hermione was still giddy with her success when Draco appeared in the lift, dressing gown hanging off him, clinging to the metal grating, trying to see as he was still descending.

"It worked! Draco!"

Draco practically fell out of the lift doors, the metal rattling loudly, bouncing off the hard surfaces of the room, and rushed to her side, one hand grasping hers, casting about, and looking at the body. His eyes found the Bulgarian's arm, his grip on her hand tightening.

"Hermione, you…you've done it! You've really done it!" He stared in disbelief and wonder at the now bare arm of the dead Bulgarian, not even the faintest shadow or hint left to indicate he had ever been marked. "You're brilliant!" He seized her in his arms, lifting her clear from the floor in a spin, laughing with relief and delight.

Hermione beamed out of his arms at him, elation and success bubbling out of her.

"How did you manage it? You were still stuck when I went to bed!" Draco set her down carefully, but his arms remained around her.

"It was the most ridiculous of things!" Hermione laughed, able to now that the potions had been a success. "Widdershins!"

"Widdershins?"

"I needed to stir the second potion widdershins only. Except for the final stir – that had to be clockwise. And it needed powdered Chizpurfle fangs to help guide the potion. Then it was all deiseal for the last potion, for the return of light. Sunwise turns."

Draco laughed out loud, releasing her as he put her hands to his head, struggling to find words. "Hermione. This…this is remarkable. No one–! You've done what no one has been able to!"

Hermione beamed, feeling his relief and excitement and understanding it, sharing in it with him. "You did a lot of the hard work for me. Your notes…all the tests you'd already done? The combinations you'd tried." Hermione shook her head, still smiling brightly at him with wonder. "It saved me so much time. We did it together. Really."

Draco took in her shining face, exhilarated and joyful through the days of accumulated exhaustion, and felt something quite unrelated to Dark Marks warm in his chest.

There was a rattle of the lift, signalling Harry's arrival, and Hermione rushed over to it. Harry, just as Draco had done, was peering through the bars, trying to see for himself the success that Hermione's Patronus had reported to him.

Hermione half dragged him out of the lift, and over to the body.

"Wow. Hermione." Harry shook his head in awe. "Just wow." He glanced around and grinned at Draco who was still half-laughing with stunned amazement. "Do you have enough for us to lift the other Marks?"

Hermione nodded, rushing forwards to bring out the next body. "Here. Watch me do the next one, then you two will be able to remove them too."


Forty minutes later, every single corpse had been cleaned of the Marks. The bodies looked more at peace than they had before.

"I have to go and floo Kingsley. He must know about this!" Harry was half spinning with the success of it all as he dashed for the lift doors, pulling the grille shut. "I'll see you two in a minute!"

Hermione stood, hands to her face for a few moments as the clanking of the lift faded away. She spun on the spot, not sure whether the dizziness she felt was from the high of her success or from being awake for three nights straight. She turned to Draco.

He was standing, watching her, all the excitement and fervour from his expression gone, replaced with nervousness.

Hermione felt something in her stutter. "What is it, Draco?"

Draco clenched his hands into fists to prevent his fingers from twining and knotting, and forced himself to meet her eye. "Can you…will you… Will you remove mine?"

Hermione's expression changed. "Of course, I will! Did you think I wouldn't?"

Draco's expression relaxed very slightly, but the anxiousness was still there in the tenseness of his jaw, and the shutters over his eyes. "Well I…no, it's not that. I guess…I just can't really believe this is happening. Now. That it's happening at all." A flash of vulnerability made it through his guard, and for a moment he looked incredibly young and afraid.

Hermione nodded understandingly. "It's going to be OK. Here." She summoned a chair from the wall and placed it behind him. "I'm not sure what it will be like for you when you drink the potions because you're…you know."

"Alive." A ghost of a smirk flitted across Draco's features.

"Yes." Hermione flushed. "So it's probably best if you sit down."

Draco took a deep breath and sat.

Hermione met his eyes, her own serious. "If you need me to stop at all. Tell me. I can always work out another iteration of the potions. I understand how they operate now, and if any adjustments need to be made for living subjects then I can do it."

Draco nodded.

Hermione put out her hands, and he laid his arm in them. She removed that side of his dressing gown, and then rolled up his pyjama sleeve to above the elbow, her movements careful and precise, slowly revealing the faded Mark that marred his pale skin, no concealment charm in place to hide it during the night.

Through sheer force of will Draco prevented himself from flinching as the full thing was revealed to her, although he couldn't help the reflexive twitch that made his arm jump in her grasp.

The ugly thing glowered up from his skin between them, a dark ashy grey, swollen and welted along its outlines.

"It's OK. It'll be gone in ten minutes." Hermione gave him an encouraging smile.

Draco was too tense to even try to return it, but gave her a nod, jaw clenched.

"OK." Hermione laid his arm on the cold table, and took up the first potion bottle, pouring out a tablespoon. "This should make you feel good."

Draco took the spoon, stared at the liquid which shifted and moved even in the spoon, and gulped it down, extremely aware of Hermione's anxious but encouraging eyes on him, and of the Mark glaring up at him accusingly.

The potion felt like swallowing a hot drink on a cold day. It seemed to spread warmth through him, and he could feel the exhaustion of the past two days lifting as though a constricting band had been removed from his temples, and heaviness lifted from above his eyes. He felt almost as good as he had after a restful night's sleep, waking up with Hermione beside him.

"I think…it's worked?"

"Do you feel OK?"

"Great. Better than my hangover cure." Hermione smiled, and this time Draco found he was able to return the expression. The doubts that had clouded his mind the moment he had thought of asking her to remove the Mark faded a little, the nasty little voice in the back of his mind which was taunting him, repeating over and over that it wasn't going to work, that he didn't deserve for it to work, was suddenly quieter, muffled.

He straightened his back, hope or the potion warming him from the inside out, eyes fixed on Hermione, trusting her.

"I'm ready for the next one."

Hermione nodded, her expression now serious. "This is going to be the unpleasant one, I'm afraid."

"I can handle it."

She met his gaze, concern and care connecting with fierce determination. "OK."

He watched her un-stopper the bottle and siphon out the green potion with her wand. She placed her free hand on his wrist, cool slender fingers lightly grasping the soft skin there, and glancing to meet his eyes for his agreement one last time before she applied the potion.

The potion was motionless as it floated a few inches above his skin. His Mark felt like it was burning again, almost writhing beneath his skin, attempting to burrow away from the potion suspended above it. It was a horrible itch.

Draco gritted his teeth, and nodded.

The moment the potion made contact with him it was like cold fire. He let out a grunt despite himself, not expecting the effect to be so strong or as instantaneous, and Hermione paused for a moment.

"No. Keep going."

She nodded, and continued, carefully slathering it over the entirety of his Mark.

Draco clenched his jaw hard enough that he felt as though he was going to crack his teeth, both his hands balled into fists, pushing hard into the chair in an attempt to remain still. The pain was similar to when he had received the Mark, a horrible sensation of his flesh burning, but this was slower and cold. It was like the potion was nibbling at his flesh, slowly eating away at the terrible scar that had been branded into him, like acid dissolving metal. He could feel the Mark resisting the effects of the potion, burning deeper into him like a red-hot poker being pressed into his flesh. It felt like it was seeking out his soul.

Sweat began to break out in beads across his forehead and on his neck, dark patches slowly gathering down his spine and across the chest of his pyjamas.

Hermione was watching his anxiously, her eyes darting between him, her watch, and his arm. She had the stunned Chizpurfle positioned and ready to awaken the moment the potion had run its course.

Draco screwed his eyes shut, forcing down any sound in reaction to the potion, determined to see it through, determined that he wouldn't fail this hurdle. The nasty voice had grown louder, now echoing around his head, taunting him, telling him that this would be like all the other times, that for him, it wouldn't work, couldn't work, shouldn't work.

"Look at me, Draco."

Hermione's voice broke through the litany of mockery inside his head, and Draco opened his eyes with an effort to meet hers. He could see her concern and anxiety for him, and also her kindness and care. The voice quietened once more.

"You've just got two more minutes to go. You're nearly there. You're doing so well."

She smiled encouragingly, nodding, and Draco forced himself to focus on her, only her, nodding in return, the sweat dripping from his forehead, hardly daring to blink.

The creeping stabbing pains continued as the time ticked down, the burning cold eating into him, etching itself into his flesh as he fought to maintain control, the muscles in his jaw clenched and flickering from the strain, his hand a fist, arm rigid. What sense of wellness and energy that the first potion had imparted were swiftly being eroded, used up by his body as it endured the onslaught of the potion and Mark combined.

Draco was in a stupor by the time Hermione applied the Chizpurfle to the potion. He didn't feel the ticklish sensation of it moving across his skin, only the continued burning sensation of hot and cold from the Mark and the potion, and an itchy kind of prickling. His ears were ringing, and it took him a good minute to unclench his jaw, the muscles rigid and tight.

By the time he had come back to himself, the tiny parasite had done its job and been removed, and Hermione was standing before him, the third and final potion sparkling in her hand.

"Are you OK?"

Draco nodded, exhausted to his bones, all the sensation of wellness that the first potion had given him sucked out of him by the ordeal. "It was worth it," he panted.

Hermione nodded. "This should help."

He raised his free hand to take the spoon, but was unable to stop himself from shaking, weariness in every fibre of his body. He let his hand drop back into his lap. "You'll have to do it."

Hermione nodded.

She leant forwards, one hand steadying his chin, and carefully tipped the spoonful of sparkling potion into his mouth.

Draco swallowed. He'd had Muggle fizzy drinks before, and this was something like it. Some of the bubbles managed to leap up his nose in an unpleasant fashion, but the rest went crackling down his throat and into his stomach where he could feel them leaping about, bouncing around his very empty feeling insides.

For a few moments he felt nothing but that, his eyes closed, but then the exhaustion that lined his body slowly began to vanish, as though a wave was spreading out from his stomach to every point of his body, revitalising and rejuvenating him. The ticklishness of the potion faded, replaced instead with a good kind of prickling wave that made him feel aware of every inch of his body.

"I think…it's done." He felt good again. Awake and refreshed. He opened his eyes and frowned.

Hermione was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and apology.

He followed her gaze to his arm.

The Mark was still there.

It was lighter, to be sure, the greyness that had remained now all but gone, but the outline was still there, still obvious to anyone with working eyes, still branded into him, its edge more reddened and welted than before as though the potions had served only to aggravate it.

"Draco, I–I'm sorry, I don't know what's happened." Hermione was gazing at him with an expression that he couldn't bear to see.

Draco could feel the voice that he hated crowing its triumph inside him.

"Maybe we can try again?" He could hear her trying to sound optimistic, hopeful. It made him burn. "Maybe the potions need some extra potency if you're still alive. Or-or maybe you have an allergy to one of the ingredients? Or a combination of them. I'm sure there's something that can be done. I just need to do some more tests. Maybe there's an ingredient missing or–"

"Shut up. Please. I…I can't hear this now."

Hermione frowned, not put off by his reaction. "Draco, no. I know this is disappointing, but you can't give up. We're so close!" She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but he flung hand away.

"We?!" Draco got up explosively, overturning the chair with a crash that echoed in the room. The rage of disappointment and frustration were boiling over within him and he stabbed a finger into his chest. "We?! The last time I checked there was no we in this. There is only me. I'm the one with the Dark Mark. Me." He laughed bitterly. "I'm the one who has the fucked-up family. I'm the one who made the fucked-up choices. Me. Don't give me your bloody Gryffindor bleeding heart bullshit. I don't want to hear it." He swung away from her, snarling at the world and himself, pushing the table out of his way with a crash. "I know I'm a piece of shit, OK! I KNOW. You don't need to pretend I'm not! I don't need to pretend I'm not! I know it!" He laughed humourlessly, his head back as he stared at the ceiling, shaking his head. "Merlin, what kind of idiot have I been. It's a fucking dream. And I'm the nightmare."

"Draco! Don't be stupid! It's not like that!"

"Why isn't it?!" He rounded on her, glaring and hating himself for every word he spoke as he did so, but unable to control the outpouring of six years of hopes dashed yet again, fuelled by the loss of a dream of a future that she had started to make live inside his head, which he had barely even dared to entertain until the very moment before it had been snatched away just seconds ago. "Why?"

He waited for her to answer, part of him burning to hear, desperate to hear her tell him he was wrong, to bring him back from the brink he was standing on, but she was staring up at him, stunned and speechless. The hurt had started to seep into her eyes, and the knowledge that he was the cause of it, his own hateful words, his own hateful feelings, made him burn with shame and guilt. He shook his head, the energy suddenly draining from him.

"See. You can't answer. You have an answer for everything, Hermione. But not that." He turned away from her, shaking his head as he made his way back over to the lift, defeated. "I get it. It's OK. Maybe you weren't willing to remove it. That's how it works, right? It's got to be your energy going into it. Fine. I understand."

He got into the lift, the doors crashing shut behind him, and was gone.


How are we in November already? It feels like we should still be in June or July! We're out of lockdown now, but our case numbers are still very high (though thankfully tailing off!). It's certainly strange to see people not wearing masks in public, particularly in restaurants, and to be around them. I'm very grateful for the vaccines! For those of you still in lockdowns, or in places where vaccination rates are low, or case numbers are high - you can get through this, please stay strong. You will make it out the other side 3

Poor Draco. And poor Hermione. It wasn't the result either of them were hoping for!

This was a really fun chapter to work on in regards to creating the potions. I had to refer to my copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' when I originally came up with the ingredients used a few chapters back, but it came out again for the Chizpurfle description. I did actually get stuck on them for a little while until I came across widdershins and sunwise turns. I've always thought of widdershins for counter-clockwise turns since reading 'Charmed Life' by Diana Wynne Jones (what a titan - her books are amazing). For some reason it was an element that really captured my imagination, so it was really nice to be able to bring that into this fic.

There is a lot I could say about Draco's outburst, but most of it will be in the next chapter, and I don't want to make any of that have less impact. So I hope you enjoyed! Stay safe out there! 3

Please do review and/or favourite :) Tell me what you like or don't like :) Questions and speculations are always welcome :D As is incomprehensible flailing if that's what you go in for :)

If you want to get access to sneak previews to chapters before they're posted, you can like me on Facebook (JZJ Tomkins) or follow me on Twitter ( jtomkinsauthor) or Tumblr (jzj-tomkins).

You can also find me on my blog, where I post about writing! ( .com).