Half an hour later, they found themselves sitting on Hermione’s sofa, tucking in to their fish, chips, and pierogies like it’s their last meal. The telly warbled at a low volume in the background, the late hour airing a Doctor Who rerun from the eighties. There was little that grated on her nerves more than chewing in silence. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised, after everything, to see Draco Malfoy eating straight from the styrofoam takeaway box, but it still made her giggle to herself. 