Author's Note: You are lucky I finished this right before dinner, because while cooking I sliced my index finger open. I just spent three hours in the emergency room getting 4 stitches.

Harry wanted a divorce from Draco. They'd only been married for a year and some change, most of which had been spent fixating on Lucius and Eiona. Now that their daughter wasn't a baby anymore and his father-in-law was on the mend, he was quickly growing sick and tired of his husband.

It was little things at first, like their fight over house elves. Then there was the fact that Draco disliked Victoire Weasley. Ever since Vicky bit Eiona, Draco had been refusing Fleur's proposed playdates. Draco claimed it wasn't just the one biting incident, but that Vicky turned into a harpy whenever she didn't get her way. Draco didn't want the spoiled brat around his daughter. Harry hadn't been there, hadn't seen it, and didn't believe it was as bad as Draco made it out, because there was never any evidence left on their daughter and Draco was prone to overreaction.

Draco was still alright with Teddy, but had been leaving Dromeda with Eiona more and more often. He used to take the baby over to Dromeda's house or invite her and Teddy over to Grimmauld Place, staying for the duration of the playdates. Lately he'd been saying he didn't feel well and pawning his daughter off on his aunt. She was getting old and Teddy was enough for her to deal with; she didn't need Eiona over there too.

When Eiona wasn't left with Dromeda for the day, she was at Malfoy Manor with Cissy. Now that she didn't have Lucius' health to worry about, she was happy to do it, and Draco had begun taking advantage. Harry didn't like how often Draco was leaving Eiona with Cissy. Between Cissy and Dromeda on the weekdays and Harry taking their daughter to the Weasleys on the weekend, Draco was spending very little time with her.

They'd also argued about where they lived. Grimmauld Place was tight with three people, because Harry still wouldn't clean out the third floor with Sirius and Regulus' things and Draco was used to living in a large house. Draco wanted more room to live and there was plenty of room in Malfoy Manor. Of course Harry didn't want to live there and he didn't think it was that cramped here, because he was used to living in a cupboard. Harry had refused to consider Draco's point of view and insisted they maintained their current living arrangement.

Then there was the fact that Draco had been spacey and moody lately. It had started on their anniversary and only gotten worse. The events the night Victoire bit Eiona were repeated several more times. Sometimes Harry noticed Draco crying and tried to comfort him, but more often he didn't understand and ignored it. Other times Harry didn't even notice and Draco successfully hid himself away, in a different location each time. When that happened, Harry would have to search through the house for where Draco had gone to sleep and then put a completely spaced-out Draco to bed. Draco never explained why he was doing it and Harry never made the link, instead becoming increasingly pissed off each time it happened. It happened again tonight.

They'd just finished their desert after enjoying a nice family dinner at Grimmauld Place. Harry had eaten a delicious helping of treacle tart. Their daughter Eiona, at eighteen months old, was too little for treacle tarts, so she'd had some applesauce. Draco normally would've eaten some of the tart with his husband, but his stomach felt queasy, so he'd stuck to tea and a gingersnap. He'd been feeling ill a lot recently, but hadn't said anything. Ginger snaps, ginger candies, and tea helped, staving off the nausea so that Harry didn't notice.

Draco really should've made an appointment to see his healer, but he didn't. He was scared he had his father's Motor Neurone disease and wasn't ready to have it confirmed. He should've told Harry that he wasn't feeling well, but he couldn't bear the thought of opening up to his husband about it. Harry had been less than supportive and understanding with him of late. He worried that if he said something, Harry would ignore him, tell him he was overreacting, or that it was all in his head, like Harry did with everything else. Therefore he kept quiet.

Draco got up to put his teacup and saucer in the sink, doing his best to clean up after himself. They still were without a properly functioning elf and Harry got mad whenever he didn't pick up after himself. He couldn't help that he didn't know how, because he'd never had to do it before. When Harry took the time to give him specific instructions, like put your dishes in the sink when done, he tried to follow them. Sometimes he forgot, especially if there were a large number of things to do, but he was honestly trying.

Harry was wiping up Eiona, cleaning the applesauce off her hands and face and spelling her bib clean. He wasn't paying attention to Draco and didn't realize how long his husband had been standing over the sink, staring off into space, until the teacup and saucer dropped, shattering as they collided with the stone basin. China shards went flying, some ending up on the counter, some on the floor, and most stayed in the sink.

"Merlin Draco! I told you to put the dishes in the sink, not drop them in!" Harry yelled, jumping up to clean up the pottery shards before someone got hurt. "What is so hard about placing your dishes in the sink when you're done with them? Now I have to get all of the fragments up or I'll cut my hands washing them." Harry looked up at Draco, to see him staring off into space. "Are you listening to me?" Draco looked at Harry blankly, not really hearing him. "Why aren't you helping? At least let Eiona down and take her to her room."

The request didn't sink into Draco's head, unable to pass through the thick fog. He continued to stand there, staring blankly at Harry. When Draco didn't move, Harry grew angrier. "Draco!" Harry yelled, Eiona cried, and Draco jumped. "Take Eiona up to her room!" Harry nearly growled it out.

That sunk through and Draco slowly went to obey, unstrapping Eiona from her highchair and carrying her up the stairs to her room, her tears already drying now that no one was yelling. The tone Harry had used had sunk in, setting off Draco's tears. He sat down, Eiona in his arms, in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth to sooth his emotional distress, his tears falling down his face into Eiona's blond hair. How could Harry be so mean? Why couldn't Harry see that Draco was trying? Why did Harry have to yell at him over an accident?

Eiona started trying to break free from Draco's arms, fussing when her father didn't move. She then let out a wail that finally caused him to let her free. She took off immediately towards the mess of toys surrounding her toy box to play. He was hot, so got up to find a decent window to open. The window in Eiona's room had been spelled not to open, to keep her safe, which meant he had to leave the room. He didn't want Harry to see him crying, so he went up another floor, to the third floor landing, where there was a large window with a small balcony overlooking the street. He opened the window, stepped out onto the balcony and then decided to sit on the stone railing. It was a thick stone, so when he grew tired, he lay down and fell asleep in his precarious position.

Meanwhile Harry stayed downstairs to clean up the kitchen after super. The shards had been vanished, the dishes washed, the pots scrubbed, and the counters and table given a thorough wipe down. Then he moved to the hallway, picking up shoes and coats, hanging up the coats, and placing the shoes in a neat line by the door. While he was doing this, he heard a bang from upstairs, followed by a cry, so he abandoned the shoes and rushed upstairs to Eiona's room.

Eiona was sitting inside one of her drawers, the chest fallen on its side from the weight. Her little fingers were caught between the piece of furniture and the rug and she screamed as she tried to pull them free. Harry rushed over, freeing the fingers and examining his daughter. She had a few scratches from the fall and her fingers were bright red from being pinched, but she was otherwise alright. He took her downstairs to the cellar, where he obtained a bit of ice from the icebox, which he used to sooth her fingers.

Once the toddler stopped crying, Harry took her back to her room, where he righted the chest of drawers and told her not to climb on the furniture again. Eiona nodded in response, not actually understanding, before toddling over to her toys. She seemed to be playing safely, so he went in search of Draco.

Harry's anger was only increasing. First the cup and then Draco had left their daughter alone to climb on the furniture. What was so important that Draco couldn't just stay and keep an eye on the toddler? What had Draco been doing while Harry was slaving away to clean up after them? Certainly not cleaning up Eiona's room, that was for sure after seeing the mess all over the floor: toys and clothes strewn about. Sure Eiona had probably made the mess, but Draco could've cleaned it up or at least watched her.

Harry looked in every room on the second floor, before assuming that Draco must've gone off to hide again. He didn't know why Draco was hiding, other than to get away from him. Was Draco really that unhappy in their marriage? What right did Draco have to be unhappy? Draco wasn't working, only staying home alone all day, while Harry worked and someone else watched their daughter. Draco wasn't the one spending hours every night cleaning up his husband's messes; that was Harry cleaning up after the slob. And to top it all off, after having the entire day to himself to do nothing, Draco couldn't even watch Eiona while Harry cleaned.

Harry was pissed as he climbed the stairs to the third floor. He looked in Sirius' old room first, then Regulus' old room, before heading back into the hallway, assuming Draco was in the attic again. Once he was facing the window which looked out on the street, his eyes were immediately drawn to where Draco was. He assumed Draco was only lying on the railing, which was dangerous in and of itself and stepped out onto the balcony to give his husband a piece of his mind.

The air was bitingly cold as it blew over Harry's face and hands. It was an unseasonable night, much colder than usual and Harry began to wonder what Draco was doing lying out in this weather. Although, it really wasn't much different from the time Draco went to sleep in the rain, so he shrugged the wonder off, letting his anger seep back in.

"Draco, what are you doing out here?" Harry asked angrily. Draco didn't respond. "Do you have any idea what our daughter just did? She climbed up her chest of drawers and tipped it over. Her fingers were crushed, all because you couldn't watch her. Draco! Are you listening to me?"

Draco still hadn't moved or so much as flinched at Harry's angry words. It was then that Harry stepped closer, looking into Draco's even face with closed eyes, and realized that Draco was asleep. "What the fuck is wrong with you Draco!?" Harry asked, grabbing Draco around the chest and pulling him off of the ledge, back onto the balcony.

There was a loud thunk as Draco's head hit the stone of the floor, Harry not having been as careful as he should've been. Draco woke up then, clutching his head and crying out in pain. Draco curled up in a ball in his pain and didn't get up to move inside the house like Harry thought he should've.

"Come on, let's go inside," Harry said, tugging on Draco's arm, but said arm didn't move from where it clutched at Draco's head. "You would've been hurt a whole lot worse if you'd fallen the other way. What is wrong with you that you decided to do something so reckless? Don't you care about Eiona at all?"

There was no response that Harry could make out, so he levitated Draco's body, guiding his husband back through the window into the house. He thought about continuing on to their bedroom and tucking Draco into bed, but he was tired himself and didn't want to hear the continuing sobs; at least the wailing had stopped. He worried for a second that there was actually something wrong with Draco's head, so he leaned down to examine the injury with the wave of his wand, but his diagnostic spell reported only a mild bruise. Draco's skin was warm to the touch, despite the freezing cold outside, so he figured Draco hadn't been outside that long.

This was once again nothing more than Draco overreacting. Thus Harry left Draco lying on the rug and crying, while he went downstairs to put their daughter to bed by himself. He'd expected Draco to come down the stairs acting as if nothing had happened, but when he was ready for bed and Draco was still on the third floor, he went to sleep alone. Harry tossed and turned all night, fed up with Draco and their marriage. It wasn't working, so what was there to do about it?

Author's Note: Draco is getting worse…how do you think he'll react when he wakes up on the floor with a head injury?

I would like to give a special thank you to sghazalifard, for being the only one to review the last chapter!

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