Draco imagined what it might be like to wake up next to her in her flat, escape the manor for good, perhaps. But as much as he imagined the positive, reality was a bitch. Draco couldn't walk into the Ministry without the whispers that followed him. He wasn't welcome in any Wizarding bar. Diagon alley was a nightmare, and the owner of Flourish and Blotts had banned him from entering the bookstore nearly seven years prior. Hermione would suffer, for him. She wouldn't say anything either, just let the weight of Draco Malfoy's reputation slowly crush her. Draco wasn’t sure if Hermione knew him, really knew him , if she would even like him. 