Hermione remembered the way he had always been so proud of her marks at Hogwarts, even though he hadn’t understood the subjects in the slightest. The love in his arms the last time he had hugged her before Hermione had obliviated both her him and her mum. The worry and protective anger in his eyes when Hermione had told her parents about a young Draco Malfoy being awful to her and calling her a mudblood.