He looked at his mothers lifeless body, crumpled on the manor floor amongst the death eater’s and snatchers" remains, the most ornate and expensive pyre in wizarding history.  He scooped her up in his claws and set fire to the room around them, blowing huge gusts of fiendfyre from his open mouth. Hermione didn't complain when the heat of the fiendfyre reached her, she sat above him, stoic as ever - relishing the fire as it licked at every surface, devouring every memory. 