            As Hermione begrudgingly went to her own bedroom, the thought of their breakup pressed at her mind. She was sure, now, that it was a breakup. He had snogged a French girl. She had...well, she did lie about being at Lucius’s, but that was all. Ron didn’t need to know she’d been dreaming about yet another older man for weeks now. She wondered what he would object to more—a friendship with "The Enemy’ or a relationship with Harry’s dead-turned-not-dead godfather. The age gap worked against both, but Hermione supposed Ron might finally understand about Sirius. He was Sirius Black, after all. He couldn’t be tacked down by silly things like age gaps and convoluted social norms.