This was the routine. Their anger erupted in the evenings, only to cool into bitter silence the following morning. They used to try to compromise when the children were young. Now however, with all out of the house save one, this unspoken truce had been disregarded. It had not always been like this, of course. All couples start out perfect and happy in the beginning, before poisonous thoughts seep into the mind and proceed to destroy the heart. Their poison was the past. His nightmares. Her doubts. His anger and regret. Her desire to forget.

Ginny rose from her chair a few minutes after the door slammed shut; either by wind or by force, Ginny did not know. There was no use dwelling on the argument. This was just how her life was. The blissful years of the early days of marriage were long gone, nothing more than memories captured in the few moving portraits around their house. She had known it was going to be difficult when she married him. She had always hoped, however, that in the end, love would win. That her life could be perfect because she was marrying the famous boy of her childhood dreams.

If only it could have been that simple.

Ginny continued tidying up the mess of their most recent fight: the broken glass that had been shattered against the wall, the papers that had been pushed off the kitchen table, the picture frame that had fallen behind the couch, too embarrassed by such displays of anger to remain so visible. It was not that their most recent fight had been any more than normal, Ginny considered while sweeping away the last of the glass shards, it was just that she was reaching her limit. She couldn’t take this any longer. There was something wrong between them that no amount of love or compromise could fix. Maybe after a year or so, they could try again. For now, however, happiness was impossible and they both knew it.

Sighing, Ginny made her way to the shower. She needed the steam if she ever wished to clear her thoughts enough to make a mature decision. Her reflection in the large bathroom mirror caught her eye. She mostly avoided mirrors these days and could barely recognize the tired stranger who looked at her. Dark circles surrounded eyes that once sparkled with life but now were dull with exhaustion. Fine lines were beginning to etch her face, creating delicate webbing from her eyes and around her mouth. Lines that told more stories of sadness and anger than of laughter. Her hair, a chaotic mess, was still the vibrant Weasley red, but the gold tinge of youth had faded. The woman in front of her was no longer the smiling, joking girl of her school days. The thought brought bright, unshed tears to Ginny’s eyes.

After taking a quick shower, Ginny threw a few things into a large canvas bag. She was just going to get out of the house for a few days. She needed that to clear her head. She was positive he would not find himself missing her. She considered writing a note, but couldn’t think of anything to say. She didn’t know how long she would need to be alone and she highly doubted he would attempt to look for her even if a note were not left.

Perhaps it was whatever made her fall for him in the first place, perhaps just marital commitment. Either way, she couldn’t bring herself to just leave. So, compromising, she scribbled that she would be in contact with him when she was ready to talk.

There, Ginny thought, placing the Post-it note on the fridge before heading for the door. She highly doubted Harry would care that she was gone. He was probably going to stay at her brother’s for a few days anyway. He always ran for Ron and Hermione whenever things got particularly bad with the relationship. It was one of the many things that bothered Ginny about marrying her brother’s best friend. He always had someone to run to. Where did that leave her?

The brisk wind slapped her face as she stepped out the front door. Though she loved the location of their small house, with the gorgeous, unobstructed views and the quiet peace of the country, living on a hill without trees definitely did have its drawbacks. The wind was certainly one of them. Pulling her coat closer, Ginny Apparated.

The small pub was loud when she stepped in from the back door. The Yodeling Dwarf was one of the few places in town that belonged solely to the Wizarding world. Due to the low concentration of wizards in the area, there was no need for much more than this, a small but friendly place to gossip, relax, and have a pint of delicious butterbeer. Ginny sat at the worn bar, relieved to be out of the house at last.

“What’ll it be fer you, miss?” the bartender asked politely, drying off a glass mug.

“Just some tea, please.”

He brought her a steaming cup a few moments later. Ginny breathed in its warm aroma before taking a careful sip of the boiling liquid. It felt nice as it crept down her throat, warming her as it went. The strong taste brought with it a bit of liveliness that Ginny thought had been lost in the fight of last night.

She was just beginning to think that perhaps she could have a good day when she looked to up to see the back of a head she certainly did not want to see. Though she had rarely caught but passing glimpses of him on the covers of various cheap magazines since her days at school, the appearance was undeniable. The pale blond hair had been perfectly placed, the expensive robes were not showing a speck of dust, and Ginny had no doubt the cologne that wafted towards her cost more than her entire wardrobe.

Malfoy.