Echoing back its answer, Draco’s sigil on her breastbone  burned  from her wingtips to her toes with the power of a thousand brilliant stars; so overwhelmingly good and  right  that it made what paltry offering Heaven meted out seem like crumbs compared the banquet she now feasted upon. White-hot power coursed through her like lifeblood, burning clean through the lies of the Order and every trapping of their so-called grace. 