A part of her knew that if he had come to her like this four years before, she might have even forgiven him. She was stronger now. She knew that Harry Potter was a selfless idiot, and at one point she had even admired him for that, but she also knew that his idiocy often blinded him to reality. Life wasn’t fair. People didn’t just fall into little boxes. Good. Bad. Happy. Angry. Sad. What did it matter? At one point she had thought Draco to be evil. Now she couldn’t imagine a day without him in it. She could be happy one day, and sad the next, and it didn’t diminish the feelings she had the day before. Life didn’t box things up in cute little packages. It was messy and painful and wonderful and awful, all at the same time. And that was something that the boy with the hero complex would never truly understand. For once, Hermione’s blood didn’t boil when she looked at her former best friend.