Written for Sweeternity's Break-Up Competition. I've found that I like writing angst, if this can be considered part of the category.

All belongs to JKR; I'm naught but a little schoolgirl with big dreams.

XXX

Harry Potter walked into his flat located downtown in Muggle London, following his girlfriend. Penelope Clearwater hadn't said a word to him since before they left the dinner party held for the Auror Office. Not wanting her to leave to go home with her parents, he spoke up. "What's bothering you?" He asked, shutting the door behind him.

Penelope faced Harry, looking scandalized, but said nothing. She turned again and went towards the bathroom in their bedroom. Of course, it wasn't really their bedroom; Penelope didn't truly live with Harry, but she spent most of her time out of work with him, often in his flat and she stayed over most nights in a week, though the two had never done anything too intimate during these stays.

Harry kept up behind her, knowing that if she was mad or upset, the first thing she would do is undo all of the beauty preparations she did hours ago, before they left for the party. He sat on the lid of the toilet seat, watching Penelope remove the pins from her hair one-by-one. When her curly hair had fallen loose, she undid the straps on each of her high-heeled shoes in turn and, removing one, threw it at Harry and left the room, barely hearing the "oomph" that he uttered when it hit him, off guard, in the stomach.

"What the hell was that?" Harry asked, getting up to follow her once more. "Use your words, Penelope," he said, something that had been somewhat of a joke between the two, a phrase they heard Molly Weasley say a number of times to her older grandchildren, but neither found it funny at the moment. "Tell me what's wrong, don't take it out on me with shoes," Harry was trying to laugh it off, but he was irritated that she had done that for a reason he couldn't see.

"You know exactly what you were doing tonight, Harry. I didn't expect you to say anything like that, considering the company you were in especially," She said, thoroughly confusing Harry. He genuinely could not place what he had said wrong. Had he spoken ill about her mother? Or perhaps he had made a joke for her that she found insulting instead of funny.

"Please, dear, just tell me what I said. I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation to what you heard," He said, trying to stop the quarrel before it escalated into a full-fledged fight. He gave Penelope a sorry look from the mirror, and she busied herself with removing her makeup from the night, apparently having a hard time taking off the mascara, judging by all the time she spent on it.

"Blood status? You and your buddies," she spat the word, "were talking about blood status?" Harry gaped at his own reflection, realizing that he had in fact made jokes that she didn't find funny, because even though they weren't about her, they hit his girlfriend of a year and a half too close to home.

"Damn it; I'm sorry Penelope, I'm truly sorry; I wasn't being serious, I was just playing along with everyone," Harry tried to explain, but apparently she had taken it much too personally for this to cut it.

"Didn't you notice that Ron never said anything on the subject? He sat there, not saying a single word, holding Hermione's hand. You didn't notice the looks they were giving each other, how he was trying to apologize to her for everyone else' behavior, including yours? Didn't you notice the looks Hermione was giving me, trying to apologize for you, for you saying such rude things as if I wasn't there?" She raged, making Harry shy back a little, both in guilt and slight fear.

"I said I'm sorry, I can't change what I've done now. I know, I'm an arse for being so insensitive," He said, sounding ashamed at first, then his voice growing to sound annoyed. "I'm sorry I wasn't as perfect as Ron is," Harry spat; despite their adolescence in which Ron felt he had to live up to Harry, the black-haired man often felt he had trouble fitting in the freckled man's shoes, feeling inadequate at times.

Penelope gave Harry a disbelieving look. "This isn't about which of you can have the highest record in the Auror Office, or who has the prettiest girlfriend, or who can hold their breath longest!" She shouted. "This is about you, insulting me and one of your best friends. The fact that Ron was keeping himself out of it is irrelevant now; he did what you should have done, yes, but that doesn't mean he's perfect Harry, you just acted on a whim and decided to make jokes with your friends that weren't funny," She said, her voice starting to calm, then regaining the irritated quality.

"I told you I'm sorry Penelope, what else do you want me to do?" Harry shouted back at her, angered by the fact that he had apologized to her twice now and she spoke as if he had told her he refused to apologize at all. "I said I can't change it now; I would if I could but I can't." She stared at him, her face blank as it had been as they walked home to the flat. Harry let out a breath and put a hand through his messy hair.

Penelope, now barefoot-and-faced, her dark hair hanging around the waist of her modest cream-colored dress, opened her mouth to speak, and shut it again, looking like a fish gasping for water while she grasped at words. "I want some time by myself, Harry," She said venomously. He would have, on any other day, ask her to stay tonight and see how she felt in the morning. But Harry felt he was past the edge.

"Alright, go ahead and run home to your mum and dad!" Harry shouted at her. "Run crying to Mummy and Daddy and tell them the world didn't treat you right," he said, now nearly livid at her behavior because he had simply joined a conversation about blood status. He didn't think he'd said anything insulting, even, just about different treatment among people even today. She always took what he said the wrong way.

"Just because I have a mum and dad to run home to, Harry . . ." She started, then realized what had come out of her mouth. She stared at him, wide-eyed, terrified to hear what he'd say next. He gave a laugh in spite of how horrible he felt.

"I can't believe you said that," he said simply, without shouting. She tried to squeak out an apology, her eyes welling with tears at what she'd said to him; they were fighting, yes, but Penelope loved Harry regardless.

"Don't worry about needing time alone," He said softly. "You can have all the time in the world now."

Harry turned and left his flat, hearing Penelope try to choke out something now meaningless and begin to cry.

When Harry returned home, there was no proof that Penelope had ever been there.