She didn’t need to sell it, not really. The thought of the Kiss constricted her chest, prevented her from breathing. Now that she had reconnected with Draco, the thought of losing her soul was unbearable. She’d rather spend her life in Azkaban while they could at least still communicate. Even if it was only half-real. A half-baked existence on the threshold of imagination was still better than soul death as long as they could still be together in one way or another. 