"If Muggle-borns are just dirty mudbloods, then I’m a mudblood." She paused. Took his hand, and Draco didn’t resist; he let Hermione place it flat over the small, scrawled mudblood that marred her chest. His hand spread warm over her scarred skin just above the swells of her breasts, and she held his hand pressed firm to her skin, sending warmth radiating through her. Hermione leaned forward.