"Look, Granger, if you’re happy. Really fucking happy, I’d — I’d back off. Tell me you are, and I’ll back off," he looks at her, and she thinks it might be true, by the fucking look in his eyes, all too inscrutable. He’s looking at her like he loves her, and Hermione knows what love is. Hermione knows that love means you'd do anything, and right now he’s looking like he’d do anything for her, even back off. It’s just the war, she tells herself. The war makes everyone like this, all intense, because you have to combine all your days, your whole life into just a few because you don’t have any time left, or you might not.