The pattern could have been almost pretty from a distance if Hermione hadn’t known how he had gotten it. The horror contained within the pretty swirls, those thin dark purple-red marks that looked like some sort of strange Muggle body modification. Except unlike the Muggles who got such things, Draco hadn’t wanted them. They had hurt him. They had tortured him and marked him, and even if the other scars were gone now, his memories weren’t. Hermione’s chest was seized with a sudden sharp ache as she stared at him, teeth unconsciously gnawing at her lower lip.