Every time Pansy looked at Hermione, a little bit more of herself died. It wasn't enough that the good guys had won, or that Hermione had been the top of the class for seven years in a row and had a promising future, or that Draco and Professor Snape and so many others had died. Hermione had to look at Pansy as if she were lesser, as if the name Parkinson meant nothing, as if Pansy herself was nothing.
McGonagall gave her sympathetic looks and kind words and gentle encouragement. The Ministry was supportive of those who had gotten tangled in with the wrong side, because of family or loyalty or penalty of death. Even the Weasleys offered safe haven for those like Pansy who had been forced to make a choice and chose poorly.
But Hermione's eyes blazed in hatred, and Hermione's words cut, and with every action, Hermione made sure that Pansy would never be forgiven. Hermione made sure that Pansy would never forgive herself.
Pansy said, "Hello, Hermione."
Hermione ignored Pansy, and continued to state out the window.
"I brought you a gift." Pansy held out the plant: a singing ivy. When Hermione didn't turn or acknowledge her, Pansy placed the plant on the side table.
"Ron says hi," Pansy tried again.
Hermione whispered, "Mudblood."
Pansy flinched but didn't stop. "I went to Flourish and Blotts yesterday. Frederick asked after you; he still remembers you from Hogwarts, going to stock up on schoolbooks. He gave me this," Pansy said, and put a new, updated copy of Hogwarts, A History on the table next to the plant.
"Filthy Mudblood," Hermione said.
Pansy clenched her jaw and glanced around the room, with its clinical cleanliness. She stood behind Hermione at the window. "What are you looking at?" she asked.
Hermione didn't respond.
"I love you," Pansy whispered.
Hermione said nothing.
Pansy stepped closer, and kissed Hermione gently on the cheek. Hermione didn't react.
Pansy nodded once and crossed to the room to where Ginny Weasley was stading. Pansy held out her wrists and Ginny spelled them together with an Unbreakable Charm, and then Ginny led Pansy out of the Long-term Ward at St. Mungo's. Pansy told herself not to look back, but she did anyway.
Hermione was still staring out of the window.
Pansy closed her eyes, confident that Ginny wouldn't let her trip, and let her tears come.
Three weeks later, Pansy stood before the Wizengamot, and a Minstry official asked, "Do you accept the charges before you? That you did willfully use the Cruciatus Curse on Ron Weasley until he lost his mind? That you murdered Seamus Finnigan and Draco Malfoy with Avada Kedavra, and that you performed the Imperius Curse on Neville Longbottom and caused him to use Sectumsempra on Severus Snape?"
"I do," whispered Pansy.
"And do you accept whatever penance the Ministry lays before you?" he asked.
"I do."
"Pansy Parkinson, for the use of an Unforgivable Curse on four distinct occassions, and for the deliberate murder of two wizards, this body sentences you to care for Hermione Granger until she recovers, or, more likely, until she dies"
"No!" Pansy screamed. "You can't do that!"
"Ms. Parkinson," the wizard said, "that is your punishment, and you have already accepted your penance."
"No, send me to Azkaban, let the Dementors come; you can't do this!"
The wizard looked grave. "We have learned much in the last few years, Ms. Parkinson. We now know how to enforce the most effective punishment."