A/N

So the drabble challenge I was writing this for ended. But the story must go on. (Stupid plot bunnies). From here on the chapters will be a little longer, but it's still a short story, and various chapters will still be a part of my next challenge.


Harry slammed his fist into the wall, angry at himself.

Ginny was bored and lonely. All they seemed to do lately was bicker. First it was about Quidditch. She wanted to play, he had no problem with that, but she wanted to move up North to do it. The problem with moving North was that he was Teddy's godfather, and he didn't want to make the same mistake Sirius had in abandoning the young Lupin when he needed a strong male figure in his life.

The next fight was about the olive branch he had been giving other Slytherins and non-marked supporters of Voldemort. She thought they should all rot, while Harry believed in justice and second chances.

They bickered constantly about how they went to Molly's every weekend for dinner. Harry worked all week and wanted the weekends to relax. He liked being left alone, while to Ginny Sundays were made for spending with her loud and boisterous family. Harry didn't mind the major holidays, but only having one day of peace and quiet a week was not nearly enough for him to recharge his batteries.

Despite all of that, he did like being social in controlled settings. Ginny called him hypocritical, but Harry felt he was being reasonable. He loved the Weasleys, but they were his family. He was an adult; he wanted to be able to be social without his wife. She felt like she was perfectly in her rights to do whatever she wanted, but anytime he wanted to go out and it didn't involve a couples date with Ron and Hermione or going to the Burrow she was suspicious of him.

The most recent argument was about exactly all of those things bunched together. They had gotten an invite to a Yule party being hosted by Draco and Astoria at Malfoy Manor. Harry knew that Narcissa would be there as well. None of the other Weasleys had been invited. Ginny had not wanted to go from the start. She didn't mind going to large Ministry galas, but the idea of the smaller confines of Malfoy Manor, surrounded by purebloods and ministry officials irked her gourd.

Worse in her mind was the fact that the party was set for the Sunday before Yule. He knew the Weasleys made a big deal of the week leading up to Yule as being 'Family Time', but lately all it did was call attention to the fact that he and Ginny had not started trying to have children yet.

That was another bitter pill. Part of Ginny's 'boredom' was he wasn't exciting enough in bed. He didn't know what she wanted of him, but it led to more and more nights with them sleeping on separate ends of the bed. He'd gotten to the point where he wasn't even sure she wanted him anymore. He still had the natural reaction any male would have at seeing her bare bum, but the connection he had felt from her was gone, like he'd used up all of her reserves and there was no more. It had been more than two months since they'd even tried to be intimate. He got more involved in work, and she was on the Harpies practice squad. They barely ate dinner at the same time, and she always seemed ready to find an excuse to be 'away' during weeknights, only to show up ready to put on a performance for her parents and brothers.

She was gone again, after this last fight. He knew that Ron and some of the others would blame him. 'Why was he trying to mess with tradition?' they'd ask. 'Why did it have to be Malfoy's party?'

Harry wanted desperately to make this marriage thing work. Was it really him? Hermione and Ron didn't seem to have these problems, neither did Hannah and Neville. So what was so wrong with him and Ginny that after such a short amount of time things had gone so wrong?

They had barely been married two years. Was this what being married was supposed to be like? Fighting like cats and dogs behind closed doors, but putting on the 'prettyhappycouple' face around others? He didn't think it was, but he dare not ask, because he didn't want to seem weak.

They'd come up with a solution, and maybe he'd have to miss another event, miss out on more allies in the Wizengamot. They already thought he was snubbing them because he had yet to attend an event because it was always on a weekend and always interfered with something Ginny had planned. Soon Neville would be the only one left.

Maybe he was being unreasonable.

If only they could talk about their disagreements without it turning into a shouting match for dominance.

Maybe. One day. If Ginny came back tonight. He could fix her favorite dinner, she used to like it when he cooked for her.


Harry sighed. It was almost midnight. The salad he made had gone limp, preservation charms only lasted so long. The chocolate and strawberry mousse he prepared was back in the cold box, and the roasted chicken breast had gone cold. He didn't like using charms on food he was going to eat, it changed the texture too often. The risotto had congealed hours ago. Overall it had been a depressing sight long before he gave up on the hopes she would return that night.

Harry didn't even have the heart to eat his own portions, and went for a roast beef sandwich using leftovers from Tuesday's meal. He cleared the table, throwing the wasted food away and salvaging what he could. Sighing again, he went upstairs to get into bed.

The roses he purchased, not conjured, still lay on her dresser, but the bath he had drawn using her favorite bubble bath and massage oils had gone cold. He drained the tub while changing into the sleep set he wore for the drafty nights.

He went to sleep hurt, but with the hope that he would wake up with Ginny in bed next to him.

He had no such luck.