All the rest they did together like an old married couple – they tried out new recipes, they read together in the evenings, they went to swim in the sea when the weather got nicer, they talked about themselves, about the things they never dared to tell anyone else, aptly avoiding the topics of war. It could’ve been perfect if only it didn’t feel so fake. It was a fantasy Hermione created that Draco was putting the highest effort to fulfill for her, but he was never truly in it, he was never fully present – and that hurt her the most – because he didn’t believe it to last, but he wanted to make her happy more than he wanted to be right.