That night she woke up and found him no longer in bed. She heard water running in the bathroom. She was about to knock on the door and ask if he was alright but through the crack of the door, she saw him. He was standing by the sink, hands braced against the marble, head hanging low as the water was running. He had his eyes closed, breathing heavily. She knew that stance. She had seen it in the lab when he had apparated them and nothing seemed to take the pain away. Not alcohol, not narcotics.