Regret pinged through me as soon as my fist hit his soft face, but I couldn't stop myself. Some primal need had taken over and demanded blood. I had told him never to bring up those two years and he promised. Everything was fine and there was no reason to talk about it. But as soon as the words left those full lips, all I saw was red.

I don't know how many times I hit him. When I stopped the look on his face devastated me. It was strained with a deep anguish I had hoped I would never have to see across it. Before I knew it, my feet were carrying me out our door and down the street.

His voice cried out for me but I was too ashamed to turn back.

It wasn't until the sun had set that I stopped and apparited to the Hogs Head. Everyone knew who I was but never said anything, so it had become my favorite pub. I bought a bottle of Fire Whiskey and rented a room upstairs. It was small, dirty, and reeked of stale sex. I settled myself on the rickety bed and lost myself in my drink.

I spent the whole next day and night drinking, trying to escape Ron's face. Just when I thought I couldn't drink anymore of the burning liquid, he would appear before me; pain twisting his perfect features and ripping the tattered pieces of my heart all over again as I took another mouthful, praying for the numbing darkness. On the third night of drinking, she came in the door.

I had known her at Hogwarts, one of the Greengrass sisters. I couldn't remember which but I didn't really care as she pulled my arm up the stairs leading to the inn rooms and shoved a small pill into my palm. It was the most amazing feeling and finally blocked my mind of the red head. When she stood before me naked and tried to bring her face to mine, I pushed her down onto my bed on her stomach. She made such awful noises and I knew I was being a bit too rough on her, but I couldn't care less. As I neared my peak, something in me jolted. Quickly, I pulled out of her fully; I couldn't bring myself to come because of anyone else. I tried to back away, but she turned around and grabbed me. I was so close to the edge that her harsh touch shoved me over and she lapped it up like a dog as the sticky mess ran down her face. What a whore. Lightheadedness hit me and I toppled on the bed next to her.

I didn't wake up until the next afternoon to her pale back to me, littered with red teeth marks. I quietly slipped into my clothes and spotted the bag hanging out of her jacket pocket. I tried to fight the urge to snatch them, but the numbness that single pill had left me with a need for more. As I left the pub I grabbed a bottle of mead from the bar. It warmed my gut as my feet lead me to the Shrieking Shack. During our years at school, it was our safe haven. Almost every night from fourth year to sixth year, we met in the upper bedroom. Our first kiss, our first shag, the first time I told him I loved him, it had all happened in that shredded room. Everything was so simple then. We were happy. But the war changed all that.

The warm autumn afternoon gave way to a chilling evening before I went home. But standing in the yard, I couldn't bring myself to go in. Pulling the small bag from my pocket, I dug out a chalky tablet and forced it down my dry throat before I walked in the door. He was just getting off the phone as rage visibly flooded his body. As he yelled at me, I could feel the affects of my new friend kick in, giving me the courage to kiss Ron as he reached a pause in his rant. It gave me the strength to show him how much I loved him as we moved to our room and aided me in my apology. Falling asleep, I knew everything was going to be alright.

I awoke to an empty bed and couldn't believe he had gone off to work. Everything was back to the way it was before the war and he wouldn't take off one lousy day from work for us to bask in each others arms. The nerve of him.

I tore through the house, searching for all my hidden stashes. Apparently in the three days I was gone he found most of them, but not all. Under the cellar floorboards were two pristine unopened bottles. Leaving one for later, I crashed on the sofa with my bottle and my new friend. The last thing I remember is taking several pills in with one gulp of the burning liquid.

The chill of night pulled me from my drug induced coma to find a dark and empty house. Gathering up the blanket around me, I wondered into our room to find all his things gone. Panicking, I raced into the kitchen to find my little baggy sitting on a note. How could I have done something so stupid, leaving them out in the open? I quickly took them down into the cellar before grabbing the Fire Whiskey I'd opened earlier but barely drank and sat down next to our phone.

It took me two hours to call all his friends and even some of mine. Between each call I took a small drink, slowly feeling the burn in my belly extend throughout my body. There was only one more number to call. Oh, how I hated talking to her! She always creeped me out, even in school, but I knew that would have been why Ron ran to her. I didn't even have to say who I was when she answered.

"He doesn't want to speak to you."

"Wait, Luna! Please just tell me if he's there. I'm just so worried about him."

"Why ask if you already know?"

"Please, just say it."

"I don't need to." And with that she hung up.

At least I knew were he was. I decided to go see him, get him to come home. I still had a quarter of my bottle left, so I chugged it before pulling on some clothes. I left with I wide, drunken grin across my face.