But she did. A large bonfire had been erected at the top of the avenue. It was already lit and burning fiercely. The purple-robed wizard was pulling the terrified little girl towards a simple wooden seat with a high back. Hermione could understand why Angharad had called it a throne, but she had no mind for that. All she could focus on was the blonde-haired child being forced into it, all the while sobbing in unrelenting anguish. Hermione was oddly fixated by the girl's pigtails, and the cute little red bows tied in to the final braid at the very bottom of them.