“Hey you, yeah you up there,” said Ron in a very annoyed voice. I broke out of my trance.
“Huh?” I said in return.
“Are you ever going to make them stop bickering?”
“Well, hurry up. They’ve been fighting for a while.”
I looked over at Harry and Hermione, whom Ron was talking about. They were having one of their usual quarrels. Yelling, slapping, kicking, some cursing along the way.
“What do you mean ‘I’m not interested’. It’s the biggest event that’s ever happened to me, Hermione! Well, if you don’t count the Triwizard Tournament.” Harry was yelling, obviously at Hermione, though standing about ten yards away from her in the meantime.
“I don’t feel like going to the Quidditch game, Harry! I’m just don’t feel like it.” Hermione stood with her arms crossed over her chest and breathing heavily as she yelled.
“Why won’t you go?” Harry was now looking at her with his best puppy dog eyes.
Hermione looked at him crossly, then turned around and swore under her breath, “Asshole.”
Harry practically mimicked her as he turned around, trotted off to the nearest corner, sat down and cursed, “Bitch.”
“See what I mean,” Ron said looking up at me.
Draco apparated into the room, “What’s all the fighting about?” Draco Malfoy had become one of the trio’s best friends during their seven years at Hogwarts. Though Ron resented him a bit, still never forgiving him for calling Hermione a mudblood so much.
“Harry and Hermione are being very stubborn today,” I told him.
“How can you tell?”
“More than usual she means,” Ron joined in.
“Ahhh, I see.” Draco glanced at Hermione, with her arms crossed, then at Harry, while he sat in the corner.
“So, what was the plan again?” Ron asked me.
“Well, let’s see. Harry and Hermione aren’t forgiving each other for something, I haven’t figured out what. And then they are going to fall in…”
I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Harry jumped off his feet and came over to me.
“What do you mean?” he asked very crossly.
“I can’t love him. It’s inhuman!” Hermione had stomped over, too.
“Uh. Excuse me. I’m not the one who won’t join one of her best friends for a Quidditch match!” Harry turned on Hermione again, beginning another fight.
“Who said you were one of my friends.”
Harry had had it. He whipped out his wand and pointed it threateningly at her. Hermione copied him.
I turned away as lights began to flash, “Well, that pretty much sums up what’s going on in this story. If you didn’t figure it…out…” suddenly a giant flash of light overcame me and I crashed on the floor with a bang, “…just…read,” I continued and then glared thousands of knives at Harry and Hermione. They looked at me sheepishly, “Sorry.”