Draco twitched his shoulders into a sad shrug, "Just missing my wife," he admitted quietly, "I saw her in the common room this morning," his eyes flicked between Harry and the trinket he was playing with in his hand, "She just looks so young. Everyone just looks so young. And, for a moment, I tried to imagine doing things as we had before, when we’re older. Courting her and marrying her and having a family again. But it wouldn’t be the same," he lay the item that had been in his hand down on the desk, and Harry could see that it was a delicate, bejewelled watch - he realised with a jolt he’d seen it before, on Astoria’s wrist at the ministry, "I’d just be constantly comparing her to a version of herself that will never exist again... and I’m old enough to be her father now," he grimaced, "It feels vaguely predatory. I guess... I’m just feeling sad for the life we had that’s lost... and sad that I can’t even tell other people about it,"