Lukas stepped behind the counter where Hermione had spent countless hours of her life. Where she had stood when Draco had visited her for the first time in the shop, handing her the shoes she hadn’t been able to find as she had fled from his place in the middle of the night. Memories of him putting himself on the line flooded her. When he had entered as Maril and her had been finishing up their day, with a bunch of roses in his hands, the rest of him drenched with rain. It still felt the same.