            Kreacher dished her out leftover roast, which she accepted without complaint. Harry treated the elf well, despite his role in the war. Hermione supposed it was only because she had insisted so vehemently, back when they moved in last summer. No one had wanted to fight, then. Not when the war and their wounds were still fresh. The fighting and bickering had come later, once they’d settled into their new lives. Hermione thought that maybe they all fought on purpose, just to give themselves a taste of normalcy. Only, when they fought as children, it had been trivial things. Now, when the only subjects to bicker over were Ron’s fondness for fire whiskey, Harry’s new habit for rolling cigarettes, or her desire for a bedroom separate from Ron’s, fighting wasn’t so gratifying.