Because of Scorpius

Fifty Five

"Thank you, Blaise,"

~

Living in the Hog's Head, the tensions between Harry, Ron, and Draco grew everyday. It was rare if you ever spotted them in the same room for more than a couple minutes, and if they were, they were arguing. It was getting quite draining to be the middle-man for everything, and soon enough, I couldn't stand to be in the same room as the three.

Draco had also began to resent seeing me in the same room as Harry and Ron as well; everytime they walked into a room, Draco would take my hand and lead me elsewhere- if none of them started a fight before.

Because of this, most of mine and Harry's conversations tended to take place late at night, when Draco was asleep.

"Can't you guys just try to get along?" I asked one night, sitting at the kitchen table as Harry poured himself a glass of water. It was midnight, and we had been arguing for the last ten minutes.

"No," He snaps, leaning against the counter.

"Why do you guys even hate each other so much?" I ask, exasperated.

"You're joking," Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes. "We've only been enemies for the past 6 and a half years."

"It's childish. Why can't you both just drop it?"

"I will if he does."

"You know he won't unless you do," I begged.

"No."

I tilt my head back, groaning in frustration. "You both are impossible."

"Tell that to your boyfriend."

"Shut up, Harry," I snap.

Just as Harry was about to respond, Ron walks into the kitchen, slightly dragging his feet. His hair was messy and his eyes were droopy, as if he had just woken up and was in need of a snack.

"Hermione's asleep then?" He mumbles, reaching into the pantry and taking out a loaf of bread. Without even cutting it, he tears off a huge chunk, and begins helping himself. "I'm starving."

"As always," Harry remarks, stifling a laugh as Ron continuously stuffs chunks of bread into his mouth.

"What were you guys talking about?" Ron asked, his voice muffled from all the food in his mouth.

"Malfoy," Harry responds.

I roll my eyes, bracing myself for the offensive comments that would surely be coming from Ron in a minute.

"Gonna say it again," Ron mutters, gulping widely. "Don't know why you're still with him."

"Don't make me answer that again," I grumble.

"Oh, come on! You see how he acts when Hermione comes into the room!" Ron says.

"I've tried talking to him about it," I snap. "You guys know that."

"So he still chooses to stay an insufferable prick then?"

Harry laughs darkly, and I roll my eyes as they give each other a clap on the back. Ron stuffs the rest of the bread into his mouth, then clears his throat.

"I'm back off to bed then," He mutters, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Night," Harry and I call out in unison.

For a minute it was awkward, and Harry looked around the kitchen, as if he were searching for something to talk about.

"You know, Lupin told me about his son," I say, smiling a little as I think about the small photograph of his sleeping baby.