Hermione tried to not listen to their scornful and accusatory judgement. It was clear that the man's chest was ripped open by claws and his heart stolen. Was it fed on? She shuddered with such a dirty scene.
The little girl and her mother who were still pleading to her as if she was able to perform some magic. Their cries of sorrow began to make her emotions spill and she couldn't hold them back. It was getting too much that she retracted her hands slowly from the girls own knowing she could do nothing about it, and abruptly rushed into her small peaceful house that had served her as a shield from the prying eyes of the villagers for two years now.
From inside, she could hear the little girl's louder cry, she said to her mother. "Mommy, does the witch hate us?" But she didn't reply, only letting the tears cascade down her cheeks in sadness.
