Extending the book to her, he watched as she grabbed it and flipped to the marked pages.

It was still in German.

"Translation Spell, please," she snapped.

His wand tapped the pages, shifting the letters into English.

She took deep breaths, focusing on the words as they arranged themselves. It was done. There was nothing she could do to change what had happened or how it had happened. She just needed the specifics.

It was a journal. A wizard's entry from the 1200s, detailing a ritual to save his daughter's "purity" from evil spirits.

Two candles. Two parents. The mother cleanses, the father bleeds her.

She slammed the book closed, cheeks burning in anger and embarrassment. She pivoted to Draco, ready to release her pent up rage.

A warm hand dropped on her shoulder. She looked up and found him staring down at the blood dripping from the slice over her heart. His wand raised, and he muttered a spell to sew the skin back together. His eyes didn't leave her chest as she felt the cut heal.

His frown drew her eyes down. Just below his hand, a thin white scar crossed her heart.

"Magical wound," she whispered, temporarily distracted. "The scar will remain."

When she glanced back at him, his lips were pressed together, displeased. He looked away from her skin, and she remembered her anger.

"What if it didn't work," she asked, voice thin.

He stepped back from her and ran his hand through his hair. "Then I'd think of something else. A different spell."

She wondered at what point he would have come to her room, held her down on the bed, and penetrated her.

Minutes before the "visitors" arrived? Or perhaps he'd rather let them all die instead.

"And if you couldn't find another spell? When would you have consulted me and my opinion on the matter?"

He blinked at her before looking away to her bookshelves. "I was hoping I could find something like a glamor. Something cast to deceive the Detection Spell." He swallowed thickly. "I was hoping—"

"You were hoping I'd never have to know," she finished for him. Her skin buzzed with anger. "To cast a spell and brush it under the rug."

His lips pressed together tightly. "Do you not understand that we could be under investigation? By order of the Dark Lord, you are being examined tomorrow morning, and we have no idea why—"

"I understand perfectly, thank you," she spat. "I also understand that you had twelve hours in which you could have told me what was going on"—he took a breath to interrupt—"to inform me of the problem so that we might be able to come up with a solution together, but instead you chose to surprise me—"

"My family is in jeopardy, Granger—"

"And you're blaming me for that—?"

"Sometimes I have to act without your approval to do what's best for my family! All four of us!"

Her lips opened in a silent gasp.

His eyes widened as he seemed to realize what he'd just said. His jaw snapped shut, horror dawning over his features. Before she could press him further, he turned on his heel, dashing for the door.