Weep No More

"I HOPE YOU ALL ROT IN HELL!" Pansy yelled as she was once again thrown into the dungeons of Southbire.

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Why don't you use a little of your witchcraft? Turn some of the rats into horses and gallop away." He waved his hands in the air and laughed coldly.

Pansy glared at him. At least she wasn't chained up at the moment. Which meant she could easily shorten the few steps between her, and Andrew a give him a really hard slap and wipe that smug look off his face. But she didn't move. She stayed rooted to the floor, observing the Muggle carefully.

Andrew reached into his pocket and pulled out a healthy, red apple. He gave it a bite, and chewed thoughtfully. "You know," he said, when he had finished his first bite, "it's a pity you'll be burned tonight. I could have convinced Roget to let me touch you."

Pansy looked disgusted, but slowly digested the information. "Why am I being burnt at night?" she asked casually. "Aren't you afraid my witch-y friends will attack?"

Andrew looked almost amused. Almost. "I'd indulge you in the secrets of Southbire, witch, but maybe I should just whisper them to your bed of ashes."

Pansy scowled. "Afraid I might live?"

"Not at all," he answered with a laugh. "If you wish to know about Southbire, who am I to refuse to answer your questions?"

A gigantic imbecile, Pansy wanted to answer, but instead smiled coquettishly. "Do tell me," she said softly.

Andrew took another bite of his apple. "There's an old crone who lives here. I won't tell you where, but she's here. She specialises in the small magic we use here -"

"You do use magic!" Pansy said loudly, looking happy with herself. "All of the hypocritical things -"

"Do shut up," Andrew said, annoyed. "We use basic magic. Small magic to stop those abusers like you. And don't worry, the old bird will die soon, and Southbire will be rid of any magic."

"If she's a user of magic, why is she letting you burn the same of her kind?" Pansy asked.

"That is why Roget is the one in charge of our town!" Andrew said, taking another bite of his apple. "You see, the crone is old and close to the point of death, like I said, and like all old women she sleeps early in the afternoons and rises with the dawn."

"You trick her," Pansy said, barely above a whisper. "She doesn't know you burn witches. You do it while she's asleep. You fool her."

"She lives isolated and only Roget visits her, bringing her food and things she needs," Andrew carried on. "It's easy to keep the news away from her. And when she sleeps, her magic is weakened, which allows us to burn your kind."

"Her magic is weakened," repeated Pansy, trying to grasp what she was missing. "She knows. She knows and uses her magic to make sure you don't hurt her kind, but now she's too old. You bastard."

Andrew laughed. "A smart bastard at that, witch. Don't worry your sinful little head about it. You'll be gone before the sun rises."

Pansy glared. She really hoped that Percy's plan would work.

*

Night came quickly for Hermione. It was almost as if Southbire had sped up time for Pansy's burning. She wasn't looking forward to seeing Pansy strapped to some piece of wood. Percy's plan was complicated, too complicated. If it weren't for the fact that he had been a marvellous student at Hogwarts, she wouldn't trust him. But, oh no, Hermione would stand there and pray that Percy's plan went right.

Dressing into black slacks and a matching blouse that Fiona had lent her, Hermione felt thankful that she hadn't been hit with any strong visions lately. Apparently since the notice of her death, her headaches had lessened a bit.

However, every time she thought about her visions, she mentally slapped herself for being so stupid. There were signs everywhere about the trouble they were getting into. And while she hadn't been sane at all before Southbire, she should have told Percy to be more careful after.

Ever since the beginning she had been getting images of witch trials. Families locked in dungeons, people being burned. She had just forgotten about it, and never thought to examine the visions. But now she could do nothing else but think of them.

But then her visions had shifted. She could remember them, although scarcely. The witch burnings and trials had turned to Crucios and wizards. She had seen Muggles killing wizard, and then the exact opposite happened. She saw what had been done to Muggleborns years ago.

Stupid Malfoy and his stupid potion, Hermione thought angrily. I am going mad!

As if on cue, there was a faint knocking on the door, and Draco came in. "Ready to go, Granger?" he asked, looking sick.

Hermione nodded. "Don't worry, Malfoy, Pansy will live through this." He nodded, and Hermione suddenly felt afraid. If Pansy lived, it only meant she wouldn't. And in all honesty, Hermione didn't feel like sacrificing her life for a Slytherin, especially Pansy who had never really been nice to her. Don't be stupid, she told her herself, Percy won't let you die.

Draco opened the door for her, but didn't answer. They both knew how difficult the next half hour was going to be.

*

The burning was anything but ceremonial. There were no fancy lights save the lamps. There were no crucifixes or anything else related to the church. There was only a long pole, straws and twigs messily arranged around its bottom. Southbire was having no pity on her.

Hermione scanned the crowd for William, but had no luck in finding him.

"Ah, I did not think you would come," Roget said, holding Hermione's hand in fake sympathy. "Where is your friend, the red-head?"

"He doesn't enjoy these burnings," Draco said quickly. Then he added in a whisper, "Frankly, I think he's embarrassed he was tricked by a witch."

Roget nodded as if he understood. "Do not worry. Once the witch it burned, your friend will feel better." He bowed and left, signalling to two men to bring forth Pansy.

"Please, please let William have taken her," Hermione whispered. Suddenly a pain whooshed up her spine, and she clutched her head painfully. Draco was immediately by her side, holding her up, and begging her not to cause a scene.

"A squirrel," she murmured.

"What?" asked Draco.

"I don't know. I just saw a squirrel. I don't understand." Hermione looked upset, and was rubbing her temples.

Draco shrugged. "Never mind. We'll figure out your animal obsession later..." He trailed off and looked panicked. "Pansy!" he hissed. "William didn't get her out. I knew we couldn't trust him!"

Hermione looked frantically as Pansy was tied to the pole. They couldn't do anything. William had failed and they had no other outcome. Pansy would die, and they would see it be done.

Draco stalked towards the pole, raging and prepared to fight for Pansy. Hermione held him back, though she wasn't very successful. "Don't," she snapped. "Remember what Percy said. To trust him. We have to give him and William time."

"You're just saying that, so you live instead of Pansy," said Draco. "I don't know what you think, but I'm not sacrificing my girlfriend for a Mudblood, despite everything we've been through."

Hermione stopped herself from hitting him. "Please, Malfoy, just give them time. Percy wouldn't let her die like this. Please!"

Draco looked at Pansy. Roget was saying some words that didn't reach his ears. Andrew looked happy with himself. Pansy, on the other hand, was pale and looked like she was ill.

"All right," he finally said. "But if Pansy dies, I'm killing Weasley. I don't care if I go to Azkaban for it."

Hermione bit her lip. And whatever happens, Percy had said, when he explained his plan, trust me. Don't do anything stupid!

"Pansy won't die," she said firmly.

Draco and Hermione huddled together, watching the gruesome sight before them. Many of the citizens of Southbire had brought drinks with them, and were drinking them happily.

"And now," announced Roget, waving a torch. "We shall set aflame this devil-sent. May her soul be forgiven in Hell."

Hermione felt Draco tense next to her, and Pansy had shut her eyes tightly. She still hadn't seen William, and was afraid Draco was right. He wasn't to be trusted.

"Please don't do this," she heard Pansy plead. Obviously all Slytherin smoothness had faded. Not that Hermione could blame her.

Andrew just laughed, and set the first branches on fire. Pansy was now crying, and Hermione had never seen her so vulnerable. Neither had she ever heard Draco pray, because that was what he was doing in his own way.

"If Pansy's hair so much as singes, I'll go to Heaven and take over, you piece of shite," he muttered. "Let her be all right, please."

The fire had already risen and was licking at Pansy's skirt. She was howling in pain. Somehow, Hermione felt the pain didn't exactly reach her eyes, but dismissed it as the possibility that Pansy had given up already.

And then...

"What the -?" echoed Draco.

What had been flames and grey smoke and a howling Pansy had vanished into a puff of purple smoke.

Hermione froze. No one seemed to move. And then suddenly a bunch of ashes exploded in the air, and landed around the pole. The citizens of Southbire cheered, and Roget bowed gracefully.

"I don't... what happened?" Hermione whispered to Draco.

"I think they actually managed to kill her... using magic," Draco said angrily.

Hermione's eyes widened and she gaped. Percy wouldn't have failed them. Feeling something scurry past her leg, she looked at the ground, and managed to catch a small squirrel run past her.

... a squirrel?

Hermione watched it run, and saw William. He caught her eye, scooped up the squirrel, signalled five fingers, and made a "come on" motion with his hand. Hermione got the picture, five minutes then meet up. But what was that with the squirrel? Pansy wasn't an animagus.

"What did you think of your little show?" Roget asked, as he and Andrew approached them.

Draco pasted on a pretend smile. "Brilliant. I've never seen such power."

"You managed to make it look almost pretty," added Hermione, trying to smile.

Roget looked proud. "Since we've rid you of the witch, you must be anxious to go home. I believe we might be able to suit something for you."

"That would be lovely," Hermione said quickly when she felt Draco tense up again. "But if you don't mind, we'd like to go to bed for a nap. This always makes me jittery."

"Of course. If you need anything let us know."

*

Hidden in a closet in Percy's room of the Daily Token, there was a flash of purple light, and Pansy emerged, her hair a mess and her skirt askew.

She pirouetted, smiled at William, gave a startled Percy a quick kiss on the lips, and said, "Next time, don't make me a rodent."