More than a flicker crossed his face as his lips morphed into a wide smile. He looked younger, almost like she remembered him from school. There was a time when he would move through the castle as if he owned the place with a grin she longed to curse off. Other girls thought he was attractive, but Hermione could never see past the cruel eleven year old she knew from first year. Even years later, as damaged and disillusioned adults, she felt the urge to remove that smile. What right did he have to be happy? Or amused?