This was the key. Nott Sr. had been careless last night, and now all she had to do was follow the breadcrumbs. She sat down between the stacks, surrounded by piles of books, picking up one after another and skimming as quickly as her exhausted brain would allow. It would take her weeks to read them, but for now, she couldn't help but devour the pages like a starving man at a feast.

Her eyes widened and her stomach churned when she flipped to a page halfway through Tobias Tolbrette's journal.

And each night before I take her in my chambers, I force her to stare down at my name burned into her skin. The brand of me on her shoulder, like the brand on my oxen.

The tattoos. The Scourers had also used magical skin branding. But Nott Sr. claimed to have made advances. If she could decipher what the Scourers had done with their brands, she'd be one step closer to knowing what Nott Sr. had done.

She uncurled her legs, standing to ask the catalog for a cross-reference of "brand" in the texts she already had.

The library doors creaked open.

She froze, then peered through the shelves to see Draco stepping slowly into the library. A wave of rapid emotions tumbled over her, and she moved out from behind the stacks. The room was silent as their eyes locked. His gaze flickered down to her bare feet, and she shifted self-consciously until it returned to her eyes, her open mouth.

A flash of heat seared through her at the memory of the night before. His lips and his chest and his thigh.

She could tell him about what she'd just learned. They could go through the books together, and when she finally asked him about last night, he might silence her with a kiss—

"I'd like to apologize for last night." He slipped his hands into his pockets, and her breath left her. She squeezed the book closer to her chest, pressing indents into her fingertips. "I quite forgot myself. I lost control, and it won't happen again."

She blinked at him. He was stoic, with cold eyes and clipped sentences. With finality. Her heartbeat quickened as the words sunk into her skin, chilling her blood.

He regretted kissing her. Of course he did. Hermione swallowed, suddenly awash with guilt and shame. Not an hour ago, she'd thought it was a memory she could hold and return to whenever she wanted.

It won't happen again.

She really was a stupid girl.

Focusing on the numbness in her fingertips, she nodded, blinking at him. "I see."

A pause before he moved into the room, inching closer. Like a coiled spring begging to go the other direction. Looking over her texts on the floor, he pressed his lips together before glancing up.

"It was completely inappropriate of me." He cleared his throat. "I'd understand if you'd like to discontinue our practice sessions."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, anger suddenly constricting her chest.