The village woman with the stool is the last to leave and she stops at the scale and looks at the tally marks and then at Malfoid.

She does not say anything. She takes a piece of chalk out of her pocket and adds a mark to the floor, and it is not a gouge, it is a clean cross.

MioneThat is two hundred and seven. She has counted you as one of them.

MalfoidI would rather be on that floor than on the wall with my father. Two hundred and seven is a better number than any I was born with.