"So go on then," Draco half-snapped, and held out his left arm to her with his heart crackling in his chest. Hermione’s fingers went to his sleeve, her fingertips brushing his hand and wrist and sending warm thrills through his skin. She peeled his sleeve up slowly and Draco wanted to pull his arm away, wanted to swear, wanted to tell her to just bloody get it over with, but he kept his fragile composure and stared down at her bowed head with cool grey eyes. Hermione didn’t react all that much when the first part was revealed – the snake’s head. There was just a little pause in her slow sliding up of his sleeve, and a slight hitch in her breath. And then it was all there, exposed; the macabre skull with the serpent slithering from its mouth. Voldemort’s Dark Mark.