Staring at her now though, Harry couldn’t help but see the family resemblance between her and Draco too. He’d never noticed it before, perhaps because he hadn’t spent quite as much time staring at Draco’s face as he had in the past six months. It made him wonder what Draco would have looked like, if he hadn’t spoken on his behalf at the Malfoy family's trial at the end of the war, and he’d ended up in Azkaban. By that point, the dementors had been firmly evicted, but years of solitary confinement could do awful things to a man. He’d never regretted his decision to help spare Draco from a life behind bars, but the last six months had made him infinitely grateful for the clemency he had secured for them. The idea of Draco’s eyes turning wild and mad, and his cheeks sinking in until he looked sick and haggard, made Harry feel vaguely ill. No - he was glad now more than ever that Draco had walked free.