It wasn’t fake. Something about the reunion with Kingsley brought forth the unforgiving reality of her situation. The fact that the world saw her as a killer. That a man like Kingsley, a former friend and Order member, looked at her and saw a cold-blooded murderer, tinged with a few dying flickers of the person she used to be. He had come for those flickers, out of pity. And nothing more. Still, that pity wasn’t nothing, there was substance to it, humanity. And Hermione was expected to exploit it. No, she had to exploit it. 