She could do nothing more than nod, afraid she would start crying again. Settling into his warm embrace, she closed her eyes and tried to fool herself into believing they weren’t in Azkaban. That they were home, safe and warm and not under the threat of the Dementor’s Kiss. A beautiful fantasy. Pure. Full of hope and happiness and promise. And fake. A lie she told herself. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at Draco. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.