And Draco had just walked out. He didn’t think Hermione would ever really give Krum a second look, even if they weren’t together – or whatever they were. It wasn’t that Draco felt threatened, because he didn’t, really. It was the fact that, superficially at least, Krum would be better for Hermione than Draco was. He gripped the railing tighter, every bloody muscle rigid, biting his tongue hard, until he tasted a faint trace of blood. The porch roof leaked, and heavy drops of rain sploshed down on his shoulder. Hermione wouldn’t feel like it was easier to keep a relationship with Krum secret from her friends. She wouldn’t have to deal with memories of Krum tormenting her, or being present at her bloody torture. Wouldn’t have to deal with the knowledge of the despicable acts Krum had committed, because he hadn’t committed any. And if they won the war, Hermione wouldn’t be tarred by the public for being in a relationship with an ex-Death Eater.