A jet of red light caught Pansy by the shoulder, and then she dropped beside the hearth, screaming.

The Cruciatus Curse. Hermione's fingers curled into fists, trembling to do something to stop it.

"You little cunt!" He released it with a hiss. "I knew you were up to something."

Pansy panted on the bricks. "It's—it's supposed to be a joke!" She fought to catch her breath. "You're obsessed with that Mudblood. I was trying to mess with you—"

"You want an engagement present for your boyfriend?" Yaxley slashed his wand down again. Hermione stumbled backward, begging the scene to end as Pansy shrieked. "Did the Malfoys put you up to this?"

Pansy screamed again, and the walls shivered around Hermione. She floated, numb, as the world shook and reformed around her. And then she was standing in the first room again, like a nightmare that wouldn't end.

Her unconscious body was back in its position, the old wards shimmering over her. Pansy knelt at her feet, hands tied and blood dripping from her nose.

Hermione's face stung. Her cheeks were wet.

Footsteps from outside the doorway, and Pansy lifted her chin as Yaxley entered. Quincy Parkinson followed, and Hermione felt her vision darken around the edges.

"Just like I told you, Quince."

Pansy sat up tall, but Hermione could see her quivering in her binds. Quincy tilted his head and approached his daughter with slow steps.

"Daddy," she whispered, imploring him. "I was getting her for you. She's valuable—"

Quincy Parkinson backhanded her. Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth as Pansy flew backward.

Her shoulders shook as she watched Pansy sucked in air, laying on her side.

Her father took one step forward, his heavy boots landing loudly in front of her face.

"Looks like you have another whore to sell, Corban."

There was a long pause. Hermione couldn't take her eyes off Pansy, her tears leaking down her cheeks.

"Quince," said Yaxley lowly. "We can forget about this. I trust you to discipline your daughter as you see fit—"

"I don't have a daughter." Hermione glanced up to see Quincy Parkinson turning on his heel and sweeping from the room.

The world started to blur again, and the last thing Hermione saw before the room collapsed around her was the look in Pansy's eyes, turning flinty and dangerous.

And then she was standing at the Pensieve in Lucius's study, her ears ringing and her chest tight. The bile pressed against her throat, and she spun, retching into the waste bin.

She focused on a lake with still waters, letting her Occlumency shelves bury Pansy's memories until they no longer made her retch.

Pressing up to her feet, she collected the threads from the Pensieve back into their vial with shaking fingers. This was enough. This would exonerate her.

She capped the vial. She smoothed her robes. With a deep breath to center herself back to present, she headed out to Edinburgh again.

~*~

At lunch, she gave Hestia the vials and asked her to be quick about it. She informed her that Pansy would need a wand, and excused herself before she could ask further questions.