Arthur Weasley watched as the whirring pricking of the tattoo gun, continued unabated. He had spelled the equipment to produce the large golden letters of "Muddy’ on the captive’s lower back. He felt almost like a Niffler, drawn to the beautiful shiny inking. He longed to give the Gothic "M’ a quick stroke, knowing that the pain would be similar to sharp spank. Instead he toyed with the end of the nozzle checking the liquid’s progress, adjusting the speed to match the branding, wishing he could draw out this process just a little longer. He was envious at Snape’s casual indifference as the potion master continued to ignore the prisoner, concentrating on the concoction he was brewing for their master in a nearby cauldron.