Hermione nodded. That was something she had actually come to terms with, over the past month. Lucius knew she loved him. He died for it, but he also died knowing it. "It doesn’t feel exactly real yet," she murmured, staring at the crinkled paper. A photo from the courtroom stared back at her, the Wizengamot surrounding her like sullen statues. "I had been planning on being carted off to Azkaban, and now I’m free. Jobless, and half of my peers don’t want to even speak with me, but free." She had received the news not long after her trial’s conclusion; the Ministry wanted nothing to do with a dark-magic wielding witch whose name was attached not only to a dead Death Eater, but a man back from the dead too. Despite all of Harry’s attempts to help, she had been effectively banned from ever setting foot on the premises again.