"Accio Essence of Dittany," Fleur called and a bottle zapped off a shelf, flying into Fleur’s hand. A wand movement over Hermione’s body was accompanied by a stream of muttered words, and Fleur nodded as the magical scan confirmed her silent assessment. Her mouth turned down with sympathy. "Dittany will "eal your wounds, but I am sorry "Ermione, ze cuts seem to "ave been made by a cursed blade. The scarring will remain. A medi-witch might be able to feex it, per’aps, but I cannot." Fleur dabbed the dittany over some of the deep cuts as she spoke, the bloodied open mouths of the slashes sealing to dark purple-red scars, instead of fading to nothing like her other abrasions and bruises were. "I am so sorry, "Ermione."