"I know, Harry," she said, feeling like she was soothing him even though it was her that was suddenly hurting, thinking about what she usually tried not to think about. The reality of the best-case scenario future, and how bleak that would still probably be for her. "But even if we win, and everything –" Thick grief and frustration crowded inside her as she let out what she had bottled up and stuffed deep down. "I don't think we'll... Well, he'll stand trial, and even if he doesn't get Azkaban –" That word was so horribly hard to say, and Hermione choked back her emotions and squeezed her eyes tighter shut, clenching her fists so that her nails dug painfully into her palms. "He'll still be essentially exiled from most of wizarding society. And he – he doesn't want me to be tainted by association, so..."