Lucius had never been the type of father who invited shows of emotion. He hadn’t liked Draco showing weakness. He had told Draco to never be vulnerable; never leave himself open to attack by people who might want to use Draco’s weaknesses against him. But how was loving Hermione a weakness? If anything, it made him stronger. It was a fucking cliché, but loving her gave him strength – to do the right thing, to be a better person. Draco snorted quietly. Maybe Dumbledore had been right about love, and hope, and strength in togetherness, and all the other bloody heart-warming sayings he had trotted out on every possible occasion. Hermione glanced over her shoulder at him, smiling slightly, her brown eyes lit up with a warm amber glow as the light caught them. She was gorgeous, and good, and she wanted him. Draco Malfoy.