"You must be confident. Women like a confident wizard," Krum rumbled and Draco scowled, swilling down half his beer and frowning at the stars. Draco wasn’t as naïve as Hermione. He knew that if they won the war, even if he didn’t go to Azkaban – unlikely in his opinion – wizarding society would make their relationship a burden on Hermione. And he was fucking weak; he had lived too long with uncertainty and fear and despair hanging over his head as Death Eater. He couldn’t have a relationship with the same shadows of uncertainty and despair cast over it. He couldn’t live like that any longer.