He folded the corner of the page, put the book down, and gripped her delicate fingers between his. They were cold but not unfamiliar. At night, he would wrap himself around her whenever she complained how cold she was despite the several luxurious duvets he adorned their bed with. But, again, what if none of it had been real? What if she had pretended to care for him simply to get close to him and unveil Death Eater plots and motives?