"I miss Quidditch," Draco said.  It was a much too honest confession, and he regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth.  Sharing anything with her was a bad idea.  Sharing with anyone was a bad idea.  People left, people died, people fled.  People looked at you with pity or contempt because you’d done what you had to, and they thought you’d made a choice.  They blamed you for making one they liked to tell themselves they’d have had the moral fiber to refuse.  Liars, all of them.